Saturday, October 1, 2016

The Quiet is Coming

It isn't really going to hit home until I start living through next week, but this is "it". This is the beginning of my time of great quiet. I sat still for a moment just now and heard all the ideas that have been popping into my head lately and I think I just may sound like a raving lunatic. Maybe I am. Maybe this is why my life has headed in this quiet direction. I just need to be calm, quiet, settle into this and see where things go from here.

The wind up of yesterday, my last day with three of my four daycare family was pretty anticlimactic. Thankfully we were all on our pretty good behaviour and we spent the day in a light and easy manner, doing some of our favorite things. When we got home from our morning adventure, everyone slept. Everyone. Even my little 3 year old girl who has been fighting nap time since she was a year old slept (she napped three times this week). We barely finished our snacks and parents arrived to pick up their children. We said our good-byes amid our plans to keep in touch, gave our mutual thank you's, wished each other the best and the door closed on that era of our lives together.

All I was left with was the remnants of a daycare to deal with and my work day was done. It took what remained of the evening, but I have dismantled all that I have erected and revised since my newest 1 year old joined our midst and I was spent. I was done. I was so done...

Jet thought he found himself a new cat bed when I set up this playpen in the middle of the living room so I could clean it up before selling it.

I woke up this morning to a clean slate. I don't have to work today and the hard work is behind me. All that is left to be done is to deal with (aka: sell) the excess and continue to wade through all I have collected within this house of ours over the course of the past few decades. I think I'll stick to the accumulation of daycare wares for the moment. It is enough for now.

I wandered through the kitchen this morning and mused over the idea that I will have the ability to wash the kitchen floor after a meal once again. Back in Daycare 1.0, I quite often not only swept but washed the floor after lunch. What a difference a generation makes! I have barely had time to sweep the floor more than once a week. I cannot even remember the last time the entire floor was washed down at once.

I sat down in the living room and marvelled at our new reality. Our house looks like I'm on holidays - NOT running a full on daycare. Yes, I still have a huge "ball house" set up in the living room. That house gets more play time than any other toy I own. It will remain a fixture in the living room until my daycare days are done. It is too big to get out the door, so it will have to be dismantled. Unless I decide to leave it set up for Jet.

Jet loves "all things daycare" - kids and toys included. He is going to be sooooo bored when our house becomes too quiet. I'm considering getting him a kitten.

The kids and I went for a walk to the pet store yesterday as part of our outing. We found a cat. I want him so badly. I know it is insane to think this way but I am having a hard time talking myself out of it. So far, so good. But I would just like to borrow him for a few days, to see how he would fit in our world. Exit "Daycare Lady" and in comes "Crazy Cat Lady". 

This is "Jax". He is up for adoption (for the cost of a donation!) at our friendly neighborhood pet store. He LOVES kids, is so playful, cuddly and he purrs. At least when he is meeting someone who has the potential to spring him from his cage.

It has not yet sunk in that I do not have to hoard the quiet and my energy quite yet. I have been given the gift of a two day weekend at the onset of my life as a daycare provider for "one" child. That is barely even a job. Yet I have this overwhelming feeling of needing to hold onto this moment tightly and not let it go. 

I'm ready for the quiet. I really am. I just have to trust that the serenity of the moment is going to last for as long as I need it.

This is the moment I'm in right now. I hope it's here to stay (or SHOULD we adopt another cat??)

Friday, September 30, 2016

Life is Amazing!

Do you happen to remember that post I wrote, where someone contacted me about writing a post with financial tips? I didn't think it was for real at first but the post "Financial Tips From the Financially Inept" rolled off my fingertips with ease, so when this actual real, live person followed up and contacted me AGAIN I did a little checking and confessed I written that post shortly after I received her original email. Do you know what? She liked it. She really liked it!!

[Queue "Twilight Zone" music here]

Okay. Now. This is my reality:

TODAY is my last official day of providing full-time daycare to a house full of kids. After today, I will have ONE child to tend. One. I have about two months of "guaranteed income" from that child and the third month is anyone's guess because her mom is having a baby and I will be taking care of this last daycare child left standing until that time.

ONE child = $600 per month. This is not an income which will sustain me. Nor do I have the ability to look for a job which takes me out of the house because I am still committed to being home nine hours a day, five days a week. And bookkeeping on Saturdays. My work-week is still fully committed.

I am simply not raking in the income I have been accustomed to. Things are going to be tight but I've made adjustments. I have the "short term" under control. Everything is covered. I've got this.

Ever since before I knew my daycare income was going to be slashed, I was telling myself to trust the moment I'm in. Don't panic. Don't let fear rule the moment. Coast with whatever you are given.

It has been challenging to have faith that I am exactly where I need to be but two short months ago, I was falling to pieces and all I could think of was taking a year's leave of absence. A year to be quiet and figure things out. I got three months instead! Bonanza!!

Ever since I realized this gift of time was being presented to me in the most unexpected of ways, my first thought was maybe I could focus on my writing. Maybe I could approach more papers and bring in a little more income from the articles I already write. Maybe I could start compiling my writing, sorting things into "life lessons" called chapters and maybe I could really do this. Maybe I could produce a thing called a book.

It was like a meteor shower. All these seemingly unrelated events were whirling around in my brain and not quite connecting with each other. They were free falling. That is probably what my "ocular migrane" was!! A bombardment of ideas that had not yet found each other!

Yesterday, I had a very interesting email exchange with this person who found my writing through the amazing forces of the Internet. She liked what she read enough to contact me to write something for her. The combination of my love of "letters" and "numbers" made it very easy for me to come up with writing (letters) of the financial (numbers) kind. Maybe I can combine the two forces which have driven me since I was about 9 or 10 years old. I started my letter writing "career" at age 9. I started financial planning the year I saved up for a tape recorder (maybe 10?). Writing and "figgering" ("figuring" for those of you reading this who can't hear my dad's voice in my head when I write this) are an integral part of my being. I can "write" about "numbers"!

If nothing else, this has given me a launching pad. The beginning of starting to organize my thoughts of the past into chapters for a "book". Within said book, you can be sure to find a section on "Financial Tips from the Financially Inept" because that is where this meteor shower actually started pulling itself together by some magnetic force. This "shower" may become a planet of its own.

Life is really amazing! I love looking at it backwards and seeing how all the pieces of the puzzle (or meteorites) eventually start coming together to create a bigger picture (or a brand new planet altogether).

The coincidences of what I write here and find sitting for me in my inbox moments after I finish my thoughts never cease to amaze me. Here is today's inspiration from Project Happiness (https://projecthappiness.com/):

Followed by this food for thought:

"#FreedomFriday: What would it take for you to let go of control today and trust that everything is unfolding for your greater good?"

Thursday, September 29, 2016

Change is in the Air

I woke up at 4:30 this morning. I was wide eyed, ready to hop out of bed and start my day. I smiled to myself when I realized the cats hadn't had time to rush back onto their spots on my bed to give me the illusion that they had been sleeping soundly with me all night. Yes, they were still prowling and doing heaven only knows what. It sounded like they were working on pulling up some carpeting upstairs. They were doing their cat things and I was alone and awake. It was a glorious 4.79434 seconds.

Cats have an innate sense of knowing when there is a fly or a spider or a human stirring within a 10 ft radius. Yesterday they tracked down a spider and a maple bug (?) and saved the day. This morning, they both raced down the stairs to ensure they didn't miss our making-the-bed-with-a-cat-on-it morning tradition we have.

It is light, fun and easy to wake up when you wake with a smile. It is the littlest things that bring light into my days. I must remember that. There for a very long while, I was looking for the big stuff, but the truest of joy comes from the smallest of things.

I wandered through my morning revelling in the fact that I had three full hours before my day walked in the door. My day. My second last day of an almost full daycare load. This time last week, I was pulling my hair out. Heavens, this time yesterday morning I was feeling great angst about the three days left in my daycare reign. Then we had "yesterday". And I find myself wishing I could find a way to keep doing what I am doing.

I purged my frustrations right here on this very blog platform. As it so very often  happens, when I allow my fingers to tell my story there is a release that is life affirming. When I see my words written out before me, I find affirmation, patterns and possible solutions. There is so much power gained by setting the words that are haunting me free. Words are dangerous things when confined to my brain, within my small, isolated universe. The truth shall set you free ...

I woke up with thoughts of relationships of the courting kind. Those of us who have them. Those of us who don't. I'm sitting on the side of "I don't have that in my life but I think I want to explore it", so my awareness is being drawn to those who seem to be of a similar circumstance or age and drawing new love into their lives. I look at those people like an outsider and wonder "What do they have that I don't? What are they doing that I am not? What do they have that attracts love, romance and partnership into their world?"

In the quietness of my morning, as I made my bed around our cats, the answer came to me. They have a willingness to do the work which is required to make a relationship not only come to life, but to keep resuscitating it time and time again. Relationships are a full on commitment. I know without a doubt that I am kind of lazy that way. Or at least I have been for the last very long while.

I have been on my own for over nine years now. Nine. Nine has been a number which shows up a lot in the cycles within my life. It has been nine years. It is no wonder I am feeling restless and starting to wonder again.

I spent the initial part of my mourning period regrouping. I did it in a rather productive fashion that I wouldn't mind recreating one day. I fixed up the house, the yard and myself in the process. There is much to be gained by painting a fence that doesn't end. I still remember what part of the process I was living as I glance at different sections of our fence. It was a lot of work. Finding "me" after I had started identifying myself as part of a couple was life affirming. I survived. Again.

Then I found my friends again. I reached out and became available as a friend. It started with me feeling the need to be surrounded by friendship. Then as I told my story, others started telling me theirs. It was groundbreaking work. There was a strong foundation being rebuilt. Strength in numbers. We are not alone.

I found myself searching for my roots. I collected family memories, organized them and put together a few family history/memory books. I started reconnecting to family and discovering myself in January of 2008. I amassed and bound my last set of family memories into a book by October of 2014. I spent over six years immersed in the process of feeling like I belong to this thing I call family. My root system is strong, stable and I believe I can now weather any storm.

I feel like I've been wandering aimlessly over the course of the past few years. The honeymoon period of finishing my last book project lasted well into the following year. That was followed by a crash of a subtle and not so subtle kind. I was exhausted. Physically, mentally and emotionally.

Then came the identity crisis. If I was not part of a couple or a survivor of a broken heart or the collector of family members or the mother of dependent children or good at the job I was doing ... who WAS I??

Life happened and placed me right back into the heart of my family and family home over my summer holidays. I wasn't standing on firm ground before I found myself there but once I was in the thick of family, I became strong again. I knew what I could do and I did it. I found a vital piece of myself within a crisis of minor proportions. I was finding strength within my weakness. I was still a little broken and fractured but I had my root system. I was still standing and I had weathered a long lasting winter.

I didn't know where I was going (I still don't) but my strength is within my roots and my future will come from allowing spring to come into my life.

This must be where this feeling of adding "new life" into my world is coming from. After my last long term relationship ended, I felt so broken I wanted to leap right back into love and heal my heart that way. The longing was real. I was so lonely. I'm glad I took the long road back into finding my way back "home". I am longing for a deepness within my world these days. It very well may not be within the confines of a relationship. I believe it will come from the deepness in my soul, when I become still and quiet and content in the life I am living.

I feel it coming. I don't know what it is. But change is in the air.

Wednesday, September 28, 2016

The New Generation of Child Tending

There is a feeling of discontentment in the air within our last week of our full daycare compliment. Arguing has hit an all time high. My little (almost) 2 year old, who is staying on for a few more months after her daycare friends move on at the end of the week, is adopting the worst of everyone's habits. And I'm afraid I'm the worst of the bunch. My attitude is very much one of "I give up". If everything I have tried in the previous two years hasn't worked yet, why would it change when we have five, four, three days left to go?

The past few days, I was searching back in the archives of our daycare blogs in search of pictures I knew I had taken and information I had written down. When I looked back on one year ago, I saw the wide eyed innocence of two, 2-year-olds. Oh yes, the writing was on the wall and there was a foreboding of what was to follow. I saw the signs. I respected the signs and tried everything I knew how to do, to prevent it from happening. But the inevitable happened anyway.

Take one impressionable child and talk about the behaviours you want to stop in the presence of said child and what you set yourself up for is failure. The child soon learns, "Hmmm, when I do all "these" things [the behaviour one does NOT want to perpetrate], everyone talks about me." Why wouldn't this child keep doing the things that is getting them all this attention?

A 2-year-old hitting and being disrespectful to a parent is not acceptable in my books. If I was the parent, I would hope I would not talk about all the mean things my toddler is doing to me while my child is listening.

This same 2-year-old is now almost 4. He decided to whack his mom just as she was walking out the door yesterday morning. She looked up at me in an expression that said, "See? This is what I'm talking about." Then she told her child this was not acceptable behaviour. "It is okay to have emotions," then clarified "It is okay to be angry and frustrated. But you never hit someone. It is never okay to hit." Of course he cried, because this is what he does. Now Mom felt guilty and had to go to work. So she gave her child a big hug and told him she knew he was sorry. And she left for work leaving me with a child who believes it is okay to do whatever he wants to do and "sorry" is just one big "erase button".

I tell this same child sorry doesn't undo what he does. Sorry does NOT make it okay. Sorry doesn't cut it with me in our world here at daycare. I say this day in and day out. But one reward from a parent who gives him a big hug and tells him she knows he is sorry and reminds him and the world around him that he is a very sensitive child is teaching him to continue to do what he has been doing.

This same child does NOT know how to entertain himself. So he spends his day knocking over his 1-year-old brother, wanting "everyone to play with him", hates being excluded from anything (even if it is one of his friends simply wanting to play without him bugging them). He is a LOT of work. And worse than that, he is teaching his little brother everything he knows.

I was ten minutes into my day yesterday morning and I sighed out loud, "I know why your mom has to work".

Then it got worse.

Add one more 3-1/2 year old into the mix. She has her very own version of the same, but different story going on. The common denominator here, is that I do everything in my power to correct these behaviours within our daycare day. If it isn't hurting anyone and if the behaviour changes, what happens at daycare can stay at daycare. No parent who works full time needs to come home to a list of small indiscretions that happened throughout the day. I handle the little stuff. That is my job. But when behaviours start affecting others and everything I've done and said doesn't work, that is when I talk with my parents.

I talk with them while their children are playing and are not listening in. I send emails or texts or whatever a parent's chosen means of communication is to clarify and work with the issues at hand. But do you know what I've heard each time I've taken a list of issues I can't resolve to my parents? The words, "Oh no, this is happening at home. I see everything you are telling me about at home. I was just hoping it wasn't happening at daycare too."

Do you know what? What doesn't get resolved at home, what gets rewarded by talking about negative behaviours in front of your children (who do have a firm grasp on the English language far before they learn to talk, by the way) are the behaviours that infiltrate every part of their lives.

Enter the an impressionable 1-year-old into the mix and you have the youngest one absorbing their world like a sponge. They watch, they copy, they don't care if they get in trouble for doing EXACTLY what their friend just finished doing. Because that is part of the game. It's all a game. And if I have little control over the behaviours within our world at daycare, it is anarchy. A world where 2 and 3 year olds rule is mayhem.

The other characters within my tale included a child who interpreted social cues differently than what is considered the norm. He didn't understand his friend's emotions of frustration, anger or pain. He didn't take social cues and alter his behaviour. Life was a game to him. He loved life and he had a great time with his friends. But his lack of communication skills, added to the mix of personalities who were not following the "rules of daycare and the give and take of social interactions with friends" that his friends were NOT adhering to, turned a tough situation almost unmanageable.

My blessing in amongst the trials of working through my days at daycare have been my parents. The parent of the child who wasn't developing typically went quiet when I told her what I was seeing. But the very next day, she opened up like a book and told me she was scared and relieved at the same time. Because she was seeing everything I was seeing. She knew we were on the same team. I cautioned her that I was not equipped to give her son what he needed because he needed someone to shadow him throughout his day and guide his behaviours. He was teachable and had a willingness to please like no one else. But I couldn't be everywhere. She (and her husband) were eventually able to organize their work shifts so they worked opposite of each other and they would be able to keep him at home to give him the one-on-one attention he needs. I was relieved when she told me this. This news came just before I formally handed in my daycare resignation. But "one" behaviour was not the reason I was in over my head. The die had been cast. There was a whole cast of supporting roles who were reacting among each other and I had lost control.

We are living in a world of children who are learning they don't have to listen the first time, because they have been taught life is all about "three chances" or the count of "three misdemeanors" before they become accountable.

We are living in a world of parents ridden with guilt about leaving their children to go to work and in an effort to start their day without leaving an upset child at daycare, their child has learned they have total control at the point of drop off. The manipulations I see within those moments is something pretty amazing. Those little people hold the power and they know it.

By intercepting arguments and trying to teach the art of taking turns, playing together, sharing and waiting until someone is done with a toy, I have created a world where my little people look towards me to solve all of the issues they are having with one of their playmates.

We read a book about "Super Grover" trying to step in and solve two friends' problem of deciding what color to paint a fence. Super Grover tries to fix the problem by telling the kids the taller person should decide, or a parent should decide, or they should just tear the fence down or just wear sunglasses the color they want to see the fence. The children tell Super Grover that as long as no one is getting hurt, it is best that they try to work out their problem on their own. We read this book at least once a week. Sometimes twice. The kids know the story well and I think at least one of them understands the message "As long as no one is getting hurt, it is best they try to work things out on their own". I remind the kids "I am NOT Super Grover. I am NOT here to solve your problems. If no one is getting hurt, it is best you try to work things out on your own." The idea is good in theory. But when one child doesn't get the concept, it is impossible for a young 3 year old to work out all the compromises.

I have tried everything I know how to try. The only thing that seems to work is if I sit in the room and watch over every move. If no one ever needed to be fed or have a diaper changed or assistance in the bathroom or nose wiping or any other minor thing that crops up within a half hour of our day, maybe I could keep doing this.

The sad thing is, I wish I could. I wish I held the key to understanding what it takes to break through the communication barriers I'm having with my small people. I wish I had more patience. I wish I had four sets of eyes, arms and legs. I wish I was someone I am not. I can't do this job and I'm disappointed. Because I wanted to succeed here. I did.

I have to admit it. I'm not equipped to deal with this new generation of up and coming children. The children who will one day be running companies, teaching children, working together and running the country. Every generation learns something from the generation which preceded it. I'm uncertain what this particular generation is picking up. I just know I wouldn't want to be a teacher right now. I don't know what I want to be. And that is starting to feel just a little bit scary.

I will find my way when my world becomes quiet. I will. I have to. I just wonder if I should keep some of the basic child tending supplies around here. Just in case. Who knows? By some miracle, I could one day become a grandmother.

Tuesday, September 27, 2016

Gorilla Tape and Tabasco Sauce

It is interesting to think of this house of ours not having to be a daycare zone in the near future. I can't afford to dream big things and my biggest challenge is to simply clean and reorganize what I have. But oh, what a treat it is to dream again.

[Queue light and dreamy music here ... then interrupt that music with the sound of a record needle scratching across a record].

Stop the music! I may not have kids but I still have two rather frisky and somewhat destructive cats.

Presenting evidence for the court:

One would think the five broken slats would allow a cat to peek out the window, but oh no. Said culprit who broke the aforementioned slats is caught in the act:


New kitchen blinds in our future? The question would be "Why?"

The evidence in the picture below has been covered with half a roll of Gorilla duct tape. So far the cats have not been able to infiltrate the strength of this super strength tape. There is no "before" picture but suffice to say, you could see the frame of the back of this chair and the threads of the fabric were hanging on for dear life. 

New kitchen chairs in our future? Perhaps if they were of a "Gorilla" brand.

The holes in this rug in the front door closet  appeared out of no where. The closet door is always open so it isn't from wear and tear. The kids are not allowed to play in that area ("It's too dirty" I tell them). I have seen NO ONE causing these holes. We either have mice or carpet termites (I just invented them) or else one or two bored black cats roam the house in search of something to destroy while we sleep. 

Is this worth replacing? The jury is still out on that one.

This is the rug by the back door:

Same rug, but by the sliding door into the kitchen:

I bought a back door mat to replace this two years ago but have been waiting for our cats to outgrow this "kitten habit" before I replace it. The back door mat continues to worsen while its replacement has served us well as a small carpeted play area while it holds its title of "Heir to the 
Throne Back Door Mat". The question is "Who will gain the title to that their throne first? Prince Charles? Or our Door Mat in waiting?

Speaking of the back door, when you open said door this is what awaits you. Let the records show this is BRAND NEW weather stripping. I think it has lost its "R" value due to one black cat's dietary need to chew on black weatherstripping:

Will this be replaced? I must make that call soon. Yes. The answer is yes. Immediately upon replacing it, I plan on brushing Tabasco sauce onto it. My cousin tells me this worked for his cat. I must contact my cousin to find more tips and tricks to outwit our cats.

Follow the steps by the back door and you will find this: 
 
Yes, the culprit has confessed to the crime. I submit his paws as evidence. This is Ray's special thing. He likes the feeling of wood under his claws. Anyone have a spare 4 X 4 we can give him? Oh yes, and they both enjoy honing their claws on the carpeting on the stairs. I don't even try any more. It's theirs.

Milliseconds before I took this picture, Jet was enjoying his new favorite hobby. He picks at the weatherstripping at the bottom of the front door (door sweep? I don't know what it is called). It makes a delightful "snapping" sound as he claws at the end which is not completely attached and it snaps back against the door. Jet likes his doors "OPEN". Once the doors are opened, he walks away and is happy. He doesn't want to look out the doors. He simply wants them OPEN. 

Another secure strip of packing tape may do the trick. Then again, maybe this is a job for the Gorilla tape.

Who are the suspects? One clue. They don't walk on two legs. I have witnesses who claim these are the culprits:

WANTED: 
*CLAWED OR DECLAWED*

Wanted for: 
Weather stripping rustling, carpet destroying and furniture destruction

CLAWED AND DANGEROUS - approach with catnip

Yes, times are changing around here. Our home will soon be stripped of its daycare identity. But the hard truth remains. Two cats with claws of mass destruction continue to hide in the shadows. No new furniture is in our future. That is, unless there is a brand of Gorilla Furniture that can withstand the damage these two fur balls can dish out. 

Gorilla tape and Tabasco sauce are an integral part of our future.

Monday, September 26, 2016

Less Clutter = More Energy

I think I'm finally starting to see the light at the end of the excess. These pictures ONLY show one toy zone within our house. There are several more. But this area has been the bane of my existence and one of my reasons for not wanting to clean for far too long. In fact, how can one clean when a room is filled with clutter?

This is my progress:

Sept 6

Sept 11

Sept 26

This is what is up for sale this week:

 

This is what will go up for sale soon:


And this is a combination of items soon to be sold and toys I'm holding onto for as long as my last daycare child remains:

 


Then there are the daycare cots (3), playpens (2), booster seats (2), baby gates and whatever remains outside. It feels like there is no end to the daycare excess within this house of ours.

I have sold 49 items to date. The average selling price of my wares has been $9.25 per item. Almost everything I list for sale has a start bid of $1 to $5. "Demand" kicks up the selling price substantially in many cases. In three weeks, I have made $453.50 and the bids on the items I put up for auction yesterday are up to $76.75 with 36 hours left before my auction closes.

I'm not getting rich but I'm gaining an appreciation for the high cost of living excessively. By paring down the contents within the playroom downstairs, I found myself moving the piano so I could vacuum, dusting and giving the whole house a quick once over with the vacuum cleaner before I called it a day. I walked around with a dust rag and cleaned as I walked along. I still use the term "cleaning" very loosely because at this point it is little more than rolling up the excessive dust dirt (quite literally, when I started swiping at the dust from the cat litter in the laundry room this morning). 

I am feeling lighter and more energetic. I've been at this for four weeks and I easily have four more weeks to go before I start digging into the excessive accumulation of our household goods. Nothing is safe right now. I'm on a mission. The mere fact that I find myself cleaning without intent is nothing short of astounding. There is much energy to be gained by living a less materialistic life.

Saturday, September 24, 2016

Show Up Before You are Ready

"Show up before you are ready" was the summary statement of Elizabeth Gilbert's interview (conversation) with Glennon Doyle Melton (Here are some ways to listen:
direct download: http://tinyurl.com/h3bnvxm; max fun ep page: http://tinyurl.com/gl29q4t
itunes: http://tinyurl.com/zg5abpm). "Show up before you are ready" are the words which seem to be resonating within my life, my family and all the unknowns within my little world lately. Show up before you are ready.

I did the brave thing and gave notice I was closing my daycare, giving my parents four months notice before my closure. Three months before I had financially prepared for my decision, all but one of my families have "abandoned" me and moved on. I guess this was an invitation to show up before I was ready. I was shocked at first but now I feel up to the task.

I listened to Glennon talk about her "on the bathroom floor" moment when she was served an eviction from her previous life of addictions and invited to be a wife and mother. I thought of my "evictions" of the past. When I was younger, my eviction out of my old life and invitations into a new way of living were a little more dramatic and easier for the bare eye to see. Pregnancy, divorce, change of jobs and the like are out there for the world to see. What I wasn't prepared for, was this age called "55".

Eviction notices at this stage of the game show up differently. Impending loss of health, loss of loved ones, loss of those dependent upon you and in many cases retirement is around the corner so there is the loss of identity that comes in the form of shedding many of your "labels" and finding new ones.

I looked back on my blog post history yesterday to see if I could find a trend as to when I gained my momentum to write and lost it. I was 47 years old when I started up this blog. My first year, I wrote 298 posts. Percentage wise, this equates to writing 82% of the days available within the year. I reached a 100% average the year I was 50 years old, then my average hovered around 85 - 88% for the next few years and has continued on a downward spiral ever since. When I went to calculate my stats for this year-to-date, I found the reason I have had very little to submit to the papers I write for. I have written 149 out of a possible 266 days, an average of 56%. Barely more than half.

I wrote through year after my break up, I wrote through my challenging attempt at a career change, I wrote through my fears of Mom's health, I wrote through the changes and transitions of my family. I wrote through it all. This year, the year of being 55, I have almost stopped writing. Writing hurts. Writing is hard. I wrote anyway but it wasn't the same. This transition of my life has been the least dramatic and hardest to manage. This "eviction" from life as I knew it came upon me like a storm you see off in the horizon. I hunkered down and gathered what I thought I would need to survive, but the storm was not what I expected. It was a weather system that simply settled in and stayed. It's harder to deal with day after day of "bad weather" than it is to pick yourself up after a hurricane. Hurricanes are visible and newsworthy. The community bands together and unites. There is support and "new" replaces that which has been destroyed. There is a before and after. The clouds that come in and stay don't attract attention but it doesn't make it much easier to endure.

I look at my children and I think I see them wandering through some of the same stuff I'm feeling. A little bit of "this isn't what I thought my life was going to look like when I was 38/29/18". Varying thoughts from that point of view, but the underlying sameness of "this isn't what I was expecting" and the emotional backlash of thinking that thought but not talking about it. The conversations between me and each of my children varies with who they are and who I am when I'm with them.

I think that is a small part of what I am longing for. The echo of "me too" in a conversation with each of my children. I'm not going through what they are going through but I'm going through something somewhat similar. Maybe hard conversations will open up doors, ideas and communication. I'm ready to show up before I'm ready and talk about this out loud.

And now I must go to work, whether I'm ready for that or not. It's okay. I'm ready. Bring it on, day. I'm showing up for you whether I'm ready or not.