Friday, August 22, 2014


I was having a rough morning.

The Mean Girl resident in the penthouse was beating up on me. All. Morning. Long.

I’m talking mean - "You're a bad mama. You can't handle any bumps in the road. Anyone else would be just fine transitioning with this move. You’re overwhelmed because you aren’t strong enough. You’re not a positive person & never will be. Just get over it." and on and on and on.


I finally pulled myself and the kiddos and the dog out of the house. Mr. C was strapped on my front. Miss S was walking alongside me. Mars was leading the show.

Our destination was White Bear Lake. 

We got there & Miss S went straight to the play equipment. I hooked Mars up to the picnic table and took Mr. C out of the carrier.

Miss S then took off her shoes and went straight to the water.

So the day before, Miss S and her aunt had gone to the lake. Miss S was decked out in her swimming suit. They were gone for awhile (plenty of time to swim & frolic in the water). When they got back, Miss S’s hair was dry - she hadn't gotten into the water. She chased ducks again and again.

On our trip to White Bear Lake, Miss S was wearing shorts and a shirt. (Note to self - anytime a kiddo goes to the lake not wearing a bathing suit? That's the day that the kiddo will get in.) She was running back and forth parallel to the shore. The legs of her shorts were getting wet. Then her shorts were completely wet. Her shirt was starting to get wet. She was having fun.

I decided to set Mr. C down in the sand and let him explore. He ate some sand but didn't really care for the texture.

Mars was restless. He'd lie down for a while. Then he'd pop back up. I was nervous about leaving him unattended. I even told Miss S that we needed to head home to take Mars and then we could come back. 

Then I told myself to breathe - Mars was fine. Miss S & Mr. C were having a good time. Relax. Attempt to enjoy. I was outside. In the summer. It was in the 70s or 80s. It was overcast. It was wonderful.

One mama caught my eye from the beginning. She smiled. She seemed nice. I briefly contemplated striking up a conversation with her. 

Miss S was getting in deeper and deeper, splashing & watching the bigger kiddos. Her clothes were soaked. Her hair was getting wet.

She went over to the other side of the beach where the mama was with her kiddos. She came running back with a toy. I asked her if she had asked to borrow the toy. The mama answered that Miss S had asked, and it was fine.

So I introduced myself.

From there, the coincidences were awesome.

She has a 20-month-old daughter. I commented that Mr. C was almost 16 months but still not walking. Her response was that her daughter walked at 18 months. No one else whom she had met had a kiddo that walked that late; they all walked by 12 months. I told her I was thankful to now know her since I hadn't met anyone whose kiddo had walked late.

We talked more. It turned out that she was at the lake because one of her kiddos went to orientation that day at a nearby preschool where I was hoping my kiddos could attend. We joked about the ridiculous waiting list for the infants/toddlers and how people must have gotten onto the list before they were pregnant.

Then it turned out that she attends the church that our pastor in Phoenix (the one who married us) thought we would like and recommended that we attend.

She moved her a year ago and is an advance practice nurse.

She went on to describe the exact worries that were running through my head that morning - how she knows what I'm going through - finding a doctor, dentist, childcare.

She gave me a recommendation for a pediatrician (named Elsa…if our insurance covers that doctor, Miss S will be beyond herself) & that she often fills out forms for her oldest daughter who has Celiac disease. As does she. (I tested negative for celiac disease but get major digestional issues when I eat wheat…I’m definitely not comparing the two, because Celiac disease is just that, a disease. Eating wheat causes much much more than just digestional upset for someone with Celiac disease. But, I eat gluten free because I know for sure I’m avoiding wheat & any potential issues.)

I asked her name.

Since neither of us had our phones, I attempted to memorize her name and said I’d look her up on Facebook. Thank God for social media!

I told her she was a Godsend.

On our walk home, I saw her drive by. She waved. I smiled.


I’ve met a friend.


  1. Candice ChristensenAugust 23, 2014 at 8:23 AM

    How wonderful! Meeting new friends as adults can be so tricky; so many people don't have the time or desire to open their social circle or lives. I hope we meet some similarly friendly new people in our new neighborhood.

    And moving sucks @$$, much less with two small kids underfoot and moving cross-country. I don't know anyone/too many people who handle it gracefully. Only way I've survived doing moves on my own for 4 (gah!) times now is low standards, taking however long it takes, and being endlessly nonjudgmental about myself and how long it takes. Or trying, anyway. "Be gentle with yourself" is one of the best mantras I've heard from my earliest days of widowhood, and it helps with so many things -- all of life, actually. Nobody is as harsh as the Itty Bitty Shitty Committee in your head is.

    Good luck, and hang in there!!

  2. Candi -
    Thank you so much for reading and your feedback. Moving is never fun (at least in my memory!!). It always makes me really appreciative of people who move frequently (and especially those who don't have packers/movers) and my friends/family who help me to move. Yes - nonjudgmental. Why is it that I find it so much easier to judge myself than not? I love that mantra & definitely need to adopt it for myself.

    Thank you again for reading & for your insight. I really appreciate it!