Limbo

Transitional periods do this to me. And by transition, I mean 1) Harleigh back to school — and in her junior year of college no less — after a wonderful summer at home, 2) my birthday, now 52 years old, half my life completed 3) a three-week sabbatical right around the corner, a reminder that I've been at this job for 15 years, and 4) financial considerations on the horizon, everything from two cars in the family with mileage in the 6 digits to wishing I could downsize and move to a house with less yard.

It's a feeling of limbo. Taking one day at a time, even though I know I need to be looking ahead. Not knowing what things will look like a year from now, 5 years out, 10 years down the road. Wanting to find adventure in life, but at the same time craving constancy and safety. It's not a sad place to be, this land of Limbo, but it makes for lots of car rides with no radio on so that I can think about things. It's a concerted effort, once in bed, to stop the playlist of to dos in my head. And it's a bit of self flagellation over what I've not accomplished, the passions I've let fall to the wayside, and the chapters in my life story that I regret having penned.

Don't get me wrong, like my Blogger Profile says, "I'm probably one of the most content people you'd ever want to meet." And there's never been a more true statement. Here are some things I revel in being the quirky, average-looking, far-from-hot but gotta great personality, confident in who I am, middle-aged, single mom —

I can tell a cute bag boy at the grocery store that I could eat him with a spoon, 

and I don't come across as a cougar.

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My gray hair can't come in fast enough. I love it. And I've earned it. It's a badge of honor, I suppose. 

I have no hair style to speak of; maybe someday I'll splurge and get a contemporary styled 'do.

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When I leave myself voicemail reminders on my work and home phone, I always tell myself that I'm gorgeous and to have a good day.

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I have raised my daughter to NOT be a card-carrying member of the entitlement generation.

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If for dinner, I feel like eating corn out of the can standing at the kitchen sink, I can.

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God willing, I'll have grandchildren to adore and love. 

For now, though, with Harleigh off at school, all of my nurturing tendencies get 

showered upon my handsome Old English Sheepdog, Gideon.

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I literally wear my clothes (the same handful of pants, shirts, bras, socks, 

underwear and three pair of shoes) until they're threadbare, have holes in them or both. 

A fashion plate, I am not.

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Being creative and laughing are two of my favorite pastimes. 

Luckily, I'm creatively blessed and 

have a dry (and most of the time, appreciated) sense of humor.

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My faith is so important to me, as is my church.

 Being a follower of Christ lessens my everyday burdens. 

Life without faith would be a crippling existence.

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Being alone is the least lonely thing I could imagine. It is by far one of my greatest pleasures. 

I have very few friends, and those I do have outside of the office are ones I don't keep in close contact with, but boy can we pick up right where we left off when we do connect. 

I love being with family, no doubt. But traveling alone, eating at restaurants alone, 

shopping alone, being at home alone, they're all doable and enjoyable at the same time.

The below collage captures some images from my Instagram postings. The owl cupcake birthday cake is one Harleigh made for one of her roommates, a cake inspired by Pinterest.