In The End...

November 25, 2000 was the day that my whole life changed.

I spend a lot of time (likely much more time than is necessary) thinking about what would have happened if I had turned that date down? Or if Nick would never have asked in the first place?

In the end, of course, it doesn’t matter. Despite the fact that Einstein did indeed believe that time travel was possible, we have yet to see any evidence of it, and so it’s just a redundant thought-it doesn’t matter, it doesn’t matter, it doesn’t matter.

But.

I’ve had three November 25ths now that technically mean nothing anymore. It’s just a date on the calendar, a memory of a time long, long ago with people who, good Lord, were 21 and 20 years old and were just pretending at being adults.

But November 25th does mean something to me. If I hadn’t gone on that date 18 years ago, then my life would be this whole other life-Sliding Doors and all that.

Divorce is such a strange beast. But I do know that it is very, very possible to grieve something that you know with all of your heart you are better off without. I look back on who I was inside of my marriage and I am so changed-I don’t recognize that girl anymore. And I am trying to make peace with the idea that the idea of that makes me both extremely happy and a tiny bit sad. I am thrilled that I have grown up, that I am not that girl anymore, that I know my worth and I’m not going to settle for less.

But, very importantly, sometimes I miss how she trusted without hesitation, she loved with her whole heart and just flat out owned her emotions without questioning every motivation.

18 years later, I know to my bones that I would do it all over again, even though we break up in the end.








"What if this darkness is not the darkness of the tomb, but the darkness of the womb?"
-Valarie Kaur

Practically Unperfect in Every Way...

Sometimes…I am this girl who fixes her hair and wakes up at 4:30 to workout and keeps spreadsheets on every last little thing and seems like she is totally put together.

Sometimes…I am a girl wearing a white sweatshirt that I’ve only worn three times since I bought it and I manage to get black ink right in the middle of it in front of a customer paying his water bill.

Lest anyone ever think I’m perfect, today I am the second one.

(No one thinks I’m perfect. It’s just a sort of metaphor.)

Anyway, things making me happy of late:

SSR Podcast

Oh my goodness, I am loving this so much! SSR stands for Sh*t She Read and Ali Hoff Kosik basically deep dives into a young adult book-or, in episode 19, an entire series- yes, Sweet Valley High gets the attention it so greatly deserves. I can’t even properly find words for how excited I was to find people conversing about Elizabeth and Jessica Wakefield in a loving manner.

So far SSR has 21 episodes, so I intend to listen to most this upcoming 3 day weekend and get my 80s/90s girl book geek on. (Episode 7 on The Baby-sitters Club and episode 18 on Beezus and Ramona are at the top of my list.)


The Hazel Wood by Melissa Albert

YA is not usually my chosen genre, but this novel did not read like YA to me. Going in, all I knew was that the main character was the granddaughter of a famous novelist who lived in and created the Hinterland, a land of basically creepy fairytales. It reminded me of Night Film by Marshia Pessi only much better (Night Film was not my favorite by a long shot-I think that it’s difficult to write with a premise that something is so amazing that people will buy into an art form as a living creation and that was my big issue with it-in The Hazel Wood, maybe because it’s written for a purportedly younger audience, this was less of a stretch).

It was a nice addition to my fall reading list.

The Hallmark Chanel Countdown to Christmas App

Who knew this was a thing? It’s an app for your phone that syncs to your calendar to let you know when the new Hallmark Christmas movies are airing, and then you can check them off once you watch them. It’s just what this Type A, list loving, Christmas geek needed in her life.

April and I will be seeing Les Misérables on Sunday and I am most excited (I have seen the movie but never the musical itself). I’ve learned to leave time open to just do what I feel like doing-more difficult than it sounds for me because when I don’t have my schedule sometimes I feel overwhelmed and I basically crash hard. I know that sounds sort of crazy-I am sort of crazy, you know-but when the hours stretch around me with nothing exactly that needs doing, I just get a little too lost inside of this notion that this is what life will be like for years on end once the girls leave.

In reality, that isn’t true. (I think.) But there is a line between blessed solitude and sheer loneliness that I can bump up against if I’m not careful. And I’m lucky, I’m an introvert who enjoys being alone, but as always, I put voice to my crazy because it allows me to own it and accept it as my cross to bear.

From the bottom of my heart, I truly do thank you if you take the time to read my blogs. Sometimes writing a blog post is just my most favorite part of my day, and I am always most amazed whenever anyone reads them. Facebook has changed its algorithm of late, and so my posts about my blog don’t get the same traction that they used to, but I love posting my words too much to let it go. Thank you for letting me feel that they mean something beyond my own headspace.

Grace in the Happy Ever After...

I dearly wish life were a Hallmark movie, with snow that magically falls without making slush and endings that you can see coming a mile away.

This past weekend I had a most glorious couple of days celebrating this impending 40th birthday with some of my dearest and closest friends. We laughed and ate and (some of us) drank and just completely enjoyed getting to spend time with each other sans children.

(I am beyond grateful to them and their families/babysitters for making that happen, because in my world, I have older girls who were at their father’s house for the whole weekend, and they have younger kids, so this required a lot of time and effort on their part.)

The centerpiece of this weekend was that we had readings done with my friend, Matt Muschott. I have had a reading done by Matt prior to this, back when my divorce was fresh and new and all I really wanted to know was if I was going to live to see the end of that tailspin of grief. His words to me at that time brought such comfort to that panicked girl-they were not a promise that all would be well, but they were a promise of a much greater picture than I could see at the time.

Matt has been blessed with a gift that he graciously shares and I am all the more fortunate for his appearance in my life.

So, this past weekend, we had readings done, and we all agree that they were profound and life affirming.

My personal reading was again in the vein of, what the heck comes next? Because, as I said to him before he began, I am scared. I am scared every single day that I don’t know what I’m doing, that I’m not doing this right.

And again, his words were a comfort, if also a bit of a challenge, a bit of an idea that I can allow myself to dream bigger and bolder than I ever seem to think possible.

But mostly, he told me that my saving grace is my girls. That we are our unit, that I couldn’t ask for better help along this journey. How lucky am I, he said, that they chose me to be their mom?

And so today, I was looking back over some old writing that I had done for the blog but never seemed to find its way to the actual print, and I found this:

“Things are so much better now.”

These are actual words from my Betsy. The question to her was, “Do you miss the way that our family used to be?”

I can’t quite explain how this child always knows just the right way to say something to her somewhat wayward mother.

I wrote that in March. I remember the conversation. Betsy said, “Things are so much better now,” and then she proceeded to talk about how much I have changed. And it’s true.

I worry to an absurd degree that the girls will end up like kids on an after school special. I definitely know people who have struggled when a parent left. But, at least for us, so far, we are changed in ways that has strengthened us as a family, that has turned on its head the idea that somehow living in separate homes was not the ideal for our kids.

I certainly understand that the absolute ideal in this world would be for my kids to have parents who live together and love each other. But our reality, which has been hard fought for, is something that, honestly, I am proud of.

Things are so much better now.

Indeed, Miss Betsy Anne, they are.

I still don't know the ending, I still don't live in the magical snow globe of a Hallmark movie, but I'm trying (so hard) to make peace with the idea that our happy ever after still exists, in a completely different form than we imagined 18 years ago.

Reflections (Visions of Johanna)...

October is a month of reflection for me.

I’d like to think that’s because of the change in seasons, because my birthday is two months away and I’m pausing to truly embrace what my thirties have taught me (which, by the way, is so, so much), that just like the earth, I am entering into a new season of life.

(It’s truthfully about a lot more than that. But we’ll put a pin in that.)

I’m sure, always and forever, the defining moment of my thirties will be right there in the middle of it, the day that my divorce was final. There is a sharp before and after. But my thirties were a time of such growth, such becoming who it is that I want to be.

I became a mom at 25. Which seems like a baby to me now, but it seemed like I had waited forever at the time. My twenties were filled with Goodnight Moon and Sesame Street and tummy time and honestly believing that I had to do everything just right or someone would figure out that I was wholly undeserving of these girls who had been entrusted to my care.

My thirties allowed me to grow into the mom that I am now. I mess up, and I own it, and we go on. Sometimes dinner is tuna fish sandwiches. Sometimes dinner is tater tots. Sometimes I realize too late that I’ve let them watch something as inappropriate as The Rocky Horror Picture Show.

When I think back on who I was in my twenties, I really can’t remember. Because my entire being was caught up in being a mom and a wife. I honestly didn’t know who I was outside of those roles.

My life now is simple and small. It’s full of a joy that exists inside of writing things that no one else ever reads. It’s full of a joy that exists inside of a warm blanket, a cup of tea, and a good book. It’s full of a joy that exists inside of two girls who put together dances to music that we listen to loudly. It’s full of a joy that exists inside of waking up at 4:30 in the morning and inhaling a cup of coffee and pushing myself to do all the push ups and all the squats for nothing other than that it makes me feel good to start the day that way.

That old Joy, she loved her life so much. But she couldn’t have told you any of those things.

Two months from today, I will be 40. I know all of the things that I’m hoping that a new decade will bring into my life. But for today, on a somewhat dreary October day, looking into the future too far just doesn’t interest me. I’m blessed to be here. We’ll figure it out as we go.

This Is Us...

“Does Garfield talk?”

“What?”

“Does Garfield talk? Like, his mouth doesn’t move, but does Jon know what he’s thinking?”

This conversation, which led us down a rabbit hole of Google information, particularly this thread about whether or not Garfield is actually speaking, or if Jon is simply following his body language, or my very favorite theory, that the entire comic strip is just Jon projecting his own thoughts onto his pets-anyway, this conversation is why I love the ages that my girls are just now.

My Betsy is on the edge of 14, and my Felicity is 10 (and a half, she would add). I don’t mean to suggest that these are easy ages, by any means. Nearly 14 can be tricky-there are just days where she is prickly for no good reason, and there is a lot more time that she needs to spend listening to music very, very loudly. As for Felicity, she is just so polar opposite of Betsy and me-she is extroverted, and she loves to be surrounded by people, and living with two introverts who need downtime is difficult for her. (When we all have time alone to read, Felicity often comes to check with me about “how many more minutes?”)

But these ages lead to such interesting conversations. I have had intense conversations with Betsy on the way home from volleyball games about theology and climate change and what it’s like to feel rather like a square peg in this world. I love that she is developing her own ideas, independent of mine or anyone else.

Felicity and I bond over movies, as we have since she was little. But her selection choice is getting wider, and I marvel at how she can remember the tiniest details of books and movies.

My favorite part of being a single mom is that I get to spend time with the girls and have them all to myself. It’s a gift of this divorce that I didn’t fully appreciate at first. We all three need each other in a way that I can’t quite put a name to-we rely on each other, we laugh at the same things, I have somehow convinced them that old 80s television shows are the bomb. We talk about silly things, and serious things, and things in between.

It does catch my breath when I wrap my arms around my baby and she is towering over me. But, I assure you, no matter how much taller than me she gets, my baby she will always be. And just now, they still need their mom, and like to pile on my bed, one on each side of me, and watch movies and read books and pick at each other. I know that won’t last forever. But I’m treasuring it for now.

4 AM...

"We're all looking for redemption/Just afraid to say the name
So caught up now in pretending/What we're seeking is the truth
I'm just looking for a happy ending/All I'm looking for is you"


Sometimes other people say the words that I'm searching for.


Sometimes I am talking to myself and I say, "“I am trying to learn to love someone without losing myself in the process.” And there are so many hard truths in that statement, about how exactly I have loved in the past, and how I'm thinking about love going forward, and what on earth these past three years have been about.



"I wandered out into the water/I thought that I might drown
I don't know what I was after/Just know that I was going down"


Everyone in my family talks about the "old Joy" and the "new Joy." Some of the change in me has been ridiculously superficial, and some of it has been profound, and probably most of it has just been growing up and being an adult.



I never quite seem to say the right thing about this- and so I fall into songs and poems and books that say it better than I ever could.


"The clouds broke and the angels cried/You ain't gotta walk alone
That's why he put me in your way/You came upon me wave on wave"


Sometimes I want this space to just hold this truth- I loved my old life hard, with all that was in me. And at the same time, I want to figure out how the heck I'm going to fall into a space of trust and openness and faith in happy endings. And somehow those two truths coexist in me.


It's not profound or deep or life changing. It's just hope. The redemption that I'm searching for is hope.


"It came upon me wave on wave/You're the reason I'm still here, yeah
Am I the one you were sent to save/It came upon me wave on wave"


(That's all Wave on Wave by Pat Green, and it might be my favorite song ever)

Hello October...

”I am so glad to live in a world where there are Octobers.”
-Anne Shirley

Oh, my Anne, I am too.

October is my most favorite month of the year. October is beautiful and full of all of my favorite things-baseball and football and cider and pumpkins. (Not to belabor it, but I chose October for my wedding because I love it so much, and I think that if I ever married again, I just might choose it all over again.)

October is my time for very seasonal reading and for movies that the girls and I (mostly) love. Our schedule is just about to wind down, volleyball is ending, the nights are getting longer-it’s the perfect time of year for our movie nights and long book chapters because we are (blessedly) home.

Here are a few of our favorite fall things:

Hocus Pocus

My favorite Halloween movie of all time. Everyone loves this movie, so I won’t go on and on, other than to say that I saw this movie with April in the theater, and I loved it so much that I named my most beloved pink Aspire Dani Jo, with the Dani being in honor of Dani in this movie (the Jo was so that I could shorten it to DJ, in honor of DJ Tanner on Full House-these two facts alone tell you a lot about me at 16 years old).

Betsy finds Hocus Pocus terrifying. Betsy is an HSP (which just stands for Highly Sensitive Person). Figuring that out has helped us a great deal-Betsy gets overwhelmed by certain things, especially by books or movies that have a theme of people being in trouble or being punished, particularly for something they didn’t do. When she was about 7, I read Matilda to her, and it was almost painful for her to hear, and I just couldn’t figure out why. Being able to recognize this in her has helped us so much and it has allowed me to understand her reluctance to not only certain movies and books, but to things that I find super fun, like amusement parks. Knowing this has also made Betsy aware of those limitations and she has gotten so that she will try things more easily, sort of pushing it aside, if that makes sense. As her mom, I must say that the most amazing thing to me is that Betsy knows her limits and if something really bothers her, she simply does not participate, no matter what other people might say to her. I admire her understanding of what she is able to handle-there are many times that I wish I had her resolve.

Anyway, all of that is just to say, Betsy genuinely thinks that Hocus Pocus is scary. But she has been watching it since she was about 5, so she grins and bears it because she knows how very much I love it, and how it is our way to usher in fall.

Ghostbusters

So, I watched Ghostbusters with my parents and April in a theater when I was 5 and she was 4. (This is one of 2 times that she and I can remember of seeing a movie in a theater with my parents.) We were *scared to death.* We did not understand that it was a comedy at all. So, that HSP thing, Betsy comes by it honestly.

The girls and I watched the new female-driven Ghostbusters as a part of this lineup this year. It was okay-not great by any means, but not as horrible as I had anticipated based on reviews. As for the original and its sequel, they are a normal part of our Halloween lineup, and parts of it make me laugh out loud and parts of it I just think are plain weird.

Casper

I love this one. And “Remember Me This Way” was the John Glenn High School Class of 1997 class song. So, it checks all the boxes-romance, bathroom humor that the girls love, and convincing myself that I graduated, oh, surely just about 5 years ago.

We watch several others in the rotation-Hotel Transylvania (not my favorite, but the girls love it), The Addams Family (the movies with Angelica Houston and Raul Julia, and also a tv movie that I bought in 7th grade from a book order that we religiously watch on Halloween Eve), The Adventures of Ichabod and Mr. Toad, Beetlejuice, Clue, and a couple of Munsters movies that star the original cast.

As for books, we are currently reading Harry Potter, which feels deliciously correct at this time of year.

I myself am having a seasonal theme to my reading stack at the moment and I have read a couple of books that have been excellent.

Sea Witch by Sarah Henning

I just finished this last night and, oh, was it a delight. It’s the backstory of Ursula from the Little Mermaid-I am a complete sucker for a good fairy tale retelling and this one was so, so good. (On that note, I watched a PBS special several years ago now that was a ballet of the Little Mermaid told from the actual Hans Christian Anderson story, which is of course much sadder and maddening than the Disney version and it had a profound impact on me.) This story is in the vein of that original story and it, too, is heartbreaking.

Toil and Trouble: 15 Tales of Women and Witchcraft edited by Jessica Spotswood and Tess Sharpe

Jessica Spotswood has edited 3 of these short story anthologies for young adults about empowered women, and this one seemed fitting to my fall reading list. I love short stories (my sister does not at all) and most of these were right up my alley. “If you don't feel safe enough to yell back, you're not safe enough.” That resonated.

My stack of autumn books is pretty big, and I still have a few weeks left until all I want to do is watch all the Hallmark Christmas movies, so hopefully there are a few more gems to be mined.

“I believe the nicest and sweetest days are not those on which anything very splendid or wonderful or exciting happens but just those that bring simple little pleasures, following one another softly, like pearls slipping off a string.”

Oh, Anne girl. Me too.