Hello! I'm Angie.

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Climbed a mountain and I turned around


Can I sail through the changing ocean tides? Can I handle the seasons of my life?

"Landslide", Fleetwood Mac

I went to a school fair this weekend and found myself in a conversation with a woman who works for the school district. She has three children, two boys and a girl. They are all teenagers, and the oldest boy will soon head off to college.  

Enter: scenes from my parenting life, flashing before my eyes.  


I listened to her describe her children and their distinct personalities and ponder what's next for her, primarily professionally. She told me she wants to do something new, different, but she's not sure what. Something. She's in transition, and she discussed it with an ease that I found refreshing. Her perspective seemed so uncomplicated.

She admitted that she has a go-with-the-flow type personality. (Unlike her daughter, she explained, who likes to plan and is often frustrated by her mother's approach to life). There was a peace about her that drew me in. 

I'll be 39 in two weeks. Here, I've blogged about turning 34, 35, 36, 37 and 38. I just had to pause and take a breath. It blows my mind that I've been here that long. "That long" feels like two or three—not six—birthdays. And most of the time, I've been in a state of mental, emotional or physical transition. Maybe that's truly the way it is. Perhaps the "landing spots" are merely resting places.

I sense a change in the weather. The other day Dillon told me the air smelled different. He said it smelled good. I agreed. I welcome the the season, and in the ongoing story of my life. 


Please, don't be our guest

When the roles are reversed