A Seed

What am I doing here? Despite being a "promising young writer" in high school and college, I haven't written a darn thing in decades...unless you count the family Christmas letter, which has been ostensibly missing for at least 3 years. 

What is this? I'm starting a blog? This must be an utter and complete joke. I can barely answer emails, and I have no skills in technology. Anyone who knows me even a little bit recognizes these deficits. Months into COVID when my tribe of girlfriends known as the "Circle of Trust" attempted to have a husband/wife zoom cocktail party, Brett and I never did get our video working even though we pulled out 3 distinct devices. It's actually a shock I even got the call time correct.

The blog. 

Is it an early midlife crisis?

For at least the same number of years that my exiled creative adversary known as The Family Christmas Letter has languished in my atrophied frontal cortex, I have had a really depressing 4-word soundtrack stuck in my head. More than occasionally and most often on neighborhood dog walks, I assault my (dear, supportive, extremely patient) Brett's ear with these same four words. "I haven't done anything". 

Living in an area filled with impressive degrees, superlatives, travels, or at a minimum, the ubiquitous UVA bumper sticker, there is no shortage of things to talk about when making an introduction to a new friend. Except that unto the seemingly benign "how do you do" query, "so...what do you do?".....I just...I fall flat. I'm a Mom. 

Yes, Just. A. Mom. 

I don't work. I raise 3 kids. 3 kids in 3 different schools, with spanning ages, learning styles, and medical needs, with medical needs of my own...but I get ahead of myself. We will get there, and we will talk about these darling kids of mine...just not yet.

The midlife crisis. The title of this blog. The Hungry Swimmer. What does it all mean?

My 11 year old M1 knows what it all means...and on a recent drive home from mountain biking (him, not me. It's not my type of adrenaline), I asked him what I should title the blog. 

HUNGRRRRRY

What? 

No, Mom, I'm HUNGRY. (Of course you are, kid. You're almost 12, you are projected to be 6'4'' and you just rode your bike up a hill for an hour.) 

But wait. Hungry. He might be on to something. "I haven't done anything". Don't we always teach the kids to say "yet" when they attempt to tear themselves down?

Hungry. I'm hungry for something. A new goal, for sure. Achievement? Meaning? To inspire my kids to do something bigger than themselves...to take risks? I already know what it is. I could do something.

Hungry. Some of you know I used to run a cooking school for kids...I miss it. Maybe I can share recipes. Recipes for kids...for families. Gluten free recipes. You see, 2 of my kids were diagnosed with Celiac Disease two years ago. It rocked our world...I could help other families. I could do something.

Hungry. A hunger to do something for myself again? It's been so long. Little things for myself, yes. But something big, no. Not so much. Could I help other "just moms" practice self care? Little ways, big ways? I could do something.

Hungry. Anyone who knows me a little knows we have an English Labrador named Dulles. He is hungry, always. He is also, according to my friend Rebecca, "The Fabio of Dogs" so for the purpose of levity and stunning pictures, he must be included in this blog. Dulles is a certified Therapy Dog, and we visit nursing homes, hospitals, and schools. We already do something.

Hungry. A hunger for health. To return to my baseline. Years of Lyme Disease, accompanying inflammatory arthritis, pain. What can I learn? Can I teach my body to heal itself? Can I help others do the same? I could do something.

Hungry. Hungry to help others suffering from chronic pain. Hungry to help myself with my chronic pain. Could movement and the right kind exercise be the key to stopping this demon? Can I preserve my function by continuing to move? Could I inspire others who are in pain to keep fighting, keep trying, keep moving? I could do something.


I haven't done anything...yet. But I will. I'm a hungry swimmer. Follow me on my journey. 

Just a Mom (and her family)

Just a Mom (with 2/3 of the kids)

Just a Mom (and her hungry son)