#Goals: What Riding and Writing have Taught Me (Part 2)

Two years ago my husband crushed his elbow in a biking accident. He was disappointed to miss out on what had become an annual tradition for us…the Michiana Ride for Hospice. While Tom, arm in sling, sat at the registration table, our son Seth took his place so I wouldn’t have to ride alone. (Truth be told, he was riding for the free beer at the after-party!)

Seth and I had a great time bonding through biking.

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#Goals: What Riding and Writing have Taught Me (Part 1)

Maybe it’s my Enneagram 7-ish-ness. Or the dreamer in me. But finding new things to start has never been the issue. It’s sticking it out to the finish that’s the real kicker.

I often start with gusto, but slowly lose steam as time goes on. It’s the way I do meal-planning, and gardening, and knitting, and several other pastimes. Self-discipline is hard. Stick-to-itiveness is not in my blood.

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Left to my own devices: the benefit/burden of technology

My cell phone and I are attached at the hip. 

In a previous life, you would have found my babies there. Whether I was eating lunch, making dinner, or visiting with friends–I often carried a small child with me. 

Now, when I leave the kitchen or my office at work, my hand instinctively taps my hip pocket to make sure my baby is still there. I seldom go anywhere without her. 

Why am I so attached to this device? Is it wrong? Am I addicted?

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Getting back to Front-Porch vulnerability

Our culture has become one of isolation and fear. We build fences to block out the noise of the world, to protect our children, and to keep strangers out. We avoid eye-contact with people. We prefer to close our windows and doors. We keep ourselves hidden. 

I wonder what would happen if more of us would open the windows and stick our necks out. What would happen if we sat on the front porch for all the world to see? 

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All the Right Moves: 5 steps to a smooth college move-in

My husband and I have taken ballroom dancing lessons. We’re not very good. (We’re pretty bad, really.)

That’s likely because we’ve never gotten past the beginner stage. The instructor gives us the steps but when we try to put them to music, we always miss some and throw in extras. We’re expending so much energy in the process that we’re anything but graceful and exhausted when we’re finished.

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When milestones become millstones

“Wa- tootie!!” my two-year-old yelled. I cringed as I imagined the sideways glances and raised eyebrows of my friends.

Our “Mom’s group” met for coffee and Bible study every other Friday. When the kids came up from the basement playroom to join us for snacks, I listened closely and took mental notes.

Another two-year-old politely asked: “May I have a cookie, please?”

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