Lucky thirteen.
It has been thirteen years since we first arrived in Chicago... kids from Denver looking to make it in the big city. And thirteen years later, I still sort of feel like an alien.
Thirteen has always had some significance to me ... likely to all the moody kids who grew up thinking that Thirteen was magical, so I am sure, in a sense that it is, in fact magical.
Which leads me to the utterly un-magical way I feel about where I live right now. I wanted this blog to be a way that I identified with my life as an urban, working mom. The number of posts show how awesome I have been at that. So, today, I am making the choice that this blog will be what I do better... what has always resonated with my audiences no matter what format it comes to them in... it will reflect my honesty.
So honestly, I kind of hate the city.
I kind of hate most things about city life.
I kind of feel like I am stuck here forever in concrete hell.
But I honestly feel like I am not dedicating energy to much more than hating it. And this has got to stop. So, I am just going to write out the stuff I need to write about.
And I am going to try to start to change my ways. I am going to try and adapt to survive. The only way to adapt is to make the choice to do so, and so today. I am pledging to you, my invisible audience and my husband and my kids. I am pledging that I will seek to weave magic into our lives. That I will embrace it fully and unconditionally. This is what I need to do to survive. Otherwise, that mom and wife and friend you glimpse from time to time will disappear. I like that person. I think you do to.
But I guess she lives in Chicago.
Okay. Home. Sweet. Home. Find it.
And I promise.... someday there will be pictures.
