The Storylines of Our Life

flowerMaybe it’s the writer in me, but I get a lot of joy out of observing life all around me. I wonder about other people’s stories, why they might act a certain way or choose a particular path in life. I people watch and ponder what their hopes and dreams may be. Happy, sad, indifferent, remarkable. How would they describe their life? How close are they to being who they really want to be? What’s stopping them from doing that thing they want to do?

In the past several months, I have been keenly aware of the people who have come in and out of my life. Strangers, close friends, virtual friends, neighbors, family, former co-workers, people from the past, my sons’ friends’ parents, colleagues, even cab drivers. I think about the role they’ve had. Why they came into my life when they did. Why they returned (or left) when they did.

The relationships and connections we have are remarkable. Have you ever stopped to think about the purpose of those people that are around you at the most difficult times of your life? They are there for a reason. But you have to be open-minded and vulnerable enough to notice and understand.

The people that have been in my life over the past seven months and experiences with them have been eye-opening, though I’m only now realizing how each has helped me through. I’m still working through it all.

I think of the couple that stopped to talk to me as I gardened in front of my old house. I was there for some dirt therapy after a terrible incident that left me reeling. They told me that they admired what I did with my gardens over the years and asked why I was leaving the neighborhood. When I told them the reason, I had one of the most heartfelt conversations I have had in my life. I don’t even know their names.

At times, I’ve felt like I’m observing my own storyline. Oh, how it has shifted and swayed since February. A sudden plot twist, followed by a flood of emotions from anger and sadness to relief and happiness, shuffling to regroup, sell a house, divorce, move, and start over. At the same time, I accomplished a major step towards a life-long goal and went on a life-changing trip.

I wonder if people look at me and ponder my story.

If you have been by my side in these past few months, virtually or in person, you are major part of the storyline of my life. The connections and experiences, whether fleeting or lasting, have been weaved together to reveal a story to me that may have been there all along, but I’m only now getting to see. I guess a series of life-changing events in a short amount of time will do that to you. It’s pretty amazing.

Have you ever stopped to observe your own storyline? 

Wordless Wednesday: Night Soccer Sky

Wordless Wednesday (9.24.14): Night Soccer Sky

Wordless Wednesday (9.24.14): Night Soccer Sky by Jennifer Iacovelli

Linking up with

5 Minutes for Mom
Wordless Wednesday
Wordless Wednesday @ The Jenny Evolution
Curious as a Cathy

Killing Kindergarten

“I hate kindergarten!”

I heard this bold (and completely unqualified) statement several times leading up to the first day of school for Biz.

“But how do you know you hate kindergarten if you haven’t experienced it yet?”

I knew the answer to this question, of course, because I’m his mom. And he’s just like me. Skeptical of the unknown. Fighting what others want or expect him to do. Yet knowing, in the back of his mind, that everything will be fine.

He was nervous, not knowing what to expect. He just moved into a new place with his mom, brother and dog. Without his dad and his other dog.

We’re just about settled in, but his room still needs organizing.

He’s got a big playground behind his new house with lots of new kids to play with, but it can be overwhelming.

He looks around and sees his friends with both parents together.

We said good-bye to a daycare he’s been at since he was 8 weeks old, where the owner slept over our house on Thanksgiving night to take care of his big brother while I gave birth to him.

It’s easy to get wrapped up in what’s going on with yourself and forget what the kids are going through.

Everything I’ve done in the past six months has been for my boys, yet the start of school reminds me of how fragile they really are.

It was pure torture for Biz to watch his big brother G start fourth grade while he had to wait to start kindergarten.

It was pure torture for me to get him to walk with us down the road to the school and get used to our new commute in the morning. We’d drop G off and then walk over to Biz’s school. A practice run to make sure I could get both to school on time.

I don’t know what Chinese water torture feels like, but I think it’s similar to walking with Biz to school. He dragged his feet behind us and complained the whole way, playing with sticks and acorns he found on the side of the road, as I yelled back to him that we had to keep moving. School had an actual schedule we had to adhere to.

When “family day” finally came, we waited for the bus together.


And we rode the bus together. His dad was there too. It was awkward, but it worked. We spent an hour at the school and then went back home. The next day, he went for a half day. We celebrated with lunch at Johnny Rockets, just me and my strong-willed boy.


Yesterday, he started his first full week of kindergarten. He was excited.

Just like his strong-willed mom. He may not like the process or the expectations, but he knew what he had to do. He walked into kindergarten and killed it. He enjoyed the bus, made a friend, and used the “colonel” at school (where you pee standing up in the boys room).


It wasn’t so bad after all.



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