I Need a Refill

My glass is empty.  You know, that glass from which all our love and energy pours into everything we do and feel?  Yes, mine is drying up.  


For a while now I have been watching it happen.  I come home from work, feeling like a shell of a woman.  My eyes are strained.  My throat is scratchy from talking all day.  My brain is tired from making decisions all day long.  (Decisions which, by the way, I care little about.)  My soul feels numb.  I come home to a husband and a baby boy and a dog, all of whom want and deserve my love and attention.  I try my best.  I go through the motions, but it often feels so hollow.  You know that feeling when you are trying to squeeze the very last bit of toothpaste from the tube?  You press and contort until just that last little bit oozes pathetically from the opening?  That's exactly how I feel.  I am the remnants of toothpaste from a beat-up old tube.


Enough!


I simply must find a way to refill my glass.  I owe my family more than I am giving them.  I owe myself more than I am giving me.  It's time to make some changes because if I don't, then I will just be zombie-walking through life.  (And even though it's quite seasonally appropriate to zombie-walk, let us remember that zombies are just dead people who are mute and will-less, and who are controlled by evil forces...but I digress.)


And so I'm on a scavenger hunt for happiness and self-fulfillment.  Time to fill up the ol' glass once more, drop by drop.  I am on a mission:  Project Refill.


More to come...

There's Something About Fall

There's something about Fall...


It makes me want to bake apple desserts and light pumpkin scented candles.  I want to watch football games on television and have crockpot dinners.  I want to shop from the L.L. Bean catalogue, put whipped cream on my coffee and take a walk around the village until my cheeks get just the right shade of rosy.  Fall makes me swoon.  Fall is Mother Nature's goodnight story to us as we prepare for the long, dreary doldrums of Winter.  She lulls us with her crisp amber leaves, her soft breezes and mellow sunshine.  She wraps her loving arms around us and rocks us gently, and I am like a greedy baby trying to take it all in.  I love how the hot summers fade effortlessly into a russet-hued landscape.  


The other day, Dave and I took Ben for a long walk through the park and then we stopped at the Mayer Brother's Cider Mill for fresh cider and homemade donuts.  Yes, it was heavenly.  We lingered at the donut counter, eyeing which ones we wanted.  I took my time scanning the soup mixes and the canned jellies and jams.  I pretended I was a stay-at-home mom who had time to bake and cook on a weekday.  I let myself fantasize that I could freeze this moment in time, where Ben would be (almost) 5 months old and it could be Fall forever.  I know Winter will be here before I know it, and I will try my hardest to find the magic in snowflakes and lake-effect storms.  But right now it's Fall, baby, and I'm loving it.


As I write this, I am looking out of my front window watching two squirrels chase each other up a tree.  Leaves are starting to dapple the grass.  The golden sun is peeking through the trees.  Little birds are hopping from branch to branch, tweeting a perfect little tune as they do.  Neighbors are coming and going.  The air is fresh and the sidewalks are practically begging to be walked on.  It's a glorious day, and I've already lost count of my blessings.  


Ahh, there's something about Fall.