Robin | Farewell Stranger

No Rest for the Wicked

December 27, 2012 by Farewell Stranger ·

When I put “get some form of exercise for 30 days straight” on my life list I didn’t expect anyone to call me on it. I guess that’s what happens when you post something like that on the Internet.

I originally put this on my list because I thought it would be a fun challenge, not necessarily because I needed the push. I was pretty active – I ran regularly for several years and, even after thinking I’d die doing my first 10K, actually completed three half-marathons.

I was active during my first pregnancy and after I had my first baby too. And then less so when I went back to work after my year of maternity leave. Then last January I got pregnant with my second, did two workouts after which I was unbelievably sick, and barely got my heart going again for nine months.

That second baby is now almost three months old, and it’s almost January. What that really means is that it’s the season of baking and chocolate and indulgence, and my mid-section is feeling it. So I signed myself up for a couple of classes in January and figured I’d do my best to get active again.

And then I got a text from a friend. “Number 52! You and me and January!!”

I had no idea what she was talking about, and she wouldn’t tell. “You’re smart – you’ll figure it out,” was her response to my “huh?” reply.

I did figure it out. Number 52: get some form of exercise for 30 days straight. So we’re on. And she’s already sending me ideas and questions like, “What do you think is most likely to derail you?” and “Do you want to create an exercise plan or do you want to wing it?” Apparently I’m going to have to be accountable for this…

Just a few more days to get psyched up for this. Wish me luck.

Filed Under: Hello, Inspiration · Tagged With: #30DaysStraight, Life list

Join Me in a Photo Farewell to 2012

December 26, 2012 by Farewell Stranger ·

Christmas is over (whew!) and now it’s time for one of the parts of the year I like best – saying goodbye to the old and preparing to welcome the new. The combination of reminiscing and getting a clean slate is the best.

Last year at the end of the year I said farewell to 2011 in photos. I invited other bloggers to join me and many did, and I enjoyed the look back at the year in the pictures we shared.

It seems counterintuitive that a post with one photo per month could sum up a whole year, but it it forces us to focus on the big moments and the things we want to remember. The way our children looked in January. The holiday in July. Where we are now, in the final month of the year.

What was important about 2012 for you? What images would you choose to represent your moments?

I’d love it if you’d look back with me.

Pick one picture for each month of the year (you can focus on the memories or the photography – it’s up to you.) Then grab the button (code is in the right sidebar), post, and link up with me to say farewell to 2012 in photos.

The link-up will be live from December 28 through January 4. On January 5, one linker will be chosen to receive a package from Little Love Media that includes a blog evaluation report and a blog strategy. (Huge thanks to Alison for supporting this!)

Filed Under: Hello, Inspiration, Photos · Tagged With: blogging, community, perspective, photos

Merry Christmas, Darlings

December 22, 2012 by Farewell Stranger ·

“Christmas waves a magic wand over this world, and behold, everything is softer and more beautiful.”

~ Norman Vincent Peale

Wherever you are and whatever you celebrate, I hope you find the beauty in the season.

Happy Holidays!

Filed Under: Happy things ·

Surviving Doomsday

December 21, 2012 by Farewell Stranger ·

If you can read this post then a celebration is in order.

Yes, apparently the world hasn’t ended after all. Of course, as an increasing number of people are pointing out, the Mayans didn’t actually predict the end of the world on December 21, 2012. That just happened to be the day this particular cycle of their calendar ends. But that’s not why we should be celebrating.

You see, it’s my birthday.

December 21, 2012 also happens to be the day this particular cycle — this particular year — on my calendar ends. Coincidence? I think not.

I do sort of feel like I’m on the cusp of something. A new chapter in life. We’ve now lived here for a year. It’s been a year of getting to know a new city and settling into a new job, a year of adjusting to (and loving) a proper Canadian winter. I’ve met new friends and kept in touch with old ones. We’ve started again with a whole new life that has only just begun.

We went “home” again recently. I’m not sure that’s the right word, but it’s the only word I can think of to use. We went back to the city I grew up in, the city where Connor was born and the city where my husband and I lived together for 11 years. And it felt distinctly unlike home.

I drove past our old house for the first time since we moved just over a year ago, and I got a little verklempt. Last year we sold the house to another family; their chairs are on the porch and their Christmas lights decorate the railings and flower bushes, but it still feels like my house. The city doesn’t feel like my city, though. I moved there when I was almost five years old, so in many ways it was the only “home” I had ever known. I’m not sure why it doesn’t feel that way now.

It was grey and rainy while we were there. I don’t miss either. I don’t miss the slow drivers or the traffic lights or the way the city feels dark even when it’s not. Those are all things I didn’t notice when I lived there (except for the grey raininess, which I did notice and was thrilled to move away from). But when I thought about the city beyond all those less-than-ideal, sort of frustrating things, I just didn’t miss it.

Rich thinks it’s because I left a lot behind when we moved away. The year prior to our move, and all the challenges that time brought with it, is firmly planted in the ground that is that city. The seeds were scattered there and the rain soaked them, bringing them to life. All that stuff sprang up and I had to hack it down, which was a long and painful process. And when I was finally better I found myself unable to tolerate all the other stuff that had previously just lurked in the background.

So I fled.

Or at least that’s what it feels like to me. But as much as there are things I do miss — people, mostly, and a certain kind of chicken burger at a restaurant we don’t have here — all my visits home have confirmed that it’s not home anymore.

My home is here now, and (happily) so are some of my people. It took the better part of this year to scatter these new seeds and let them settle, but they have. And now it’s time for a new cycle to begin.

I survived doomsday, but it wasn’t today. Today, I’m pretty sure, is more a beginning than an end.

Filed Under: Happy things, Hard things · Tagged With: gratitude, living life, perspective

To Hold You While You Sleep

December 19, 2012 by Farewell Stranger ·

Babies don’t ask for much. Oh sure, when we’re tired or can’t figure out what’s wrong or just plain don’t have enough hands it feels as though they want the world. As though their needs are the only thing that matters. As though we’re never again going to be able to do what we want (or need) to do without worrying whether a small person needs something first.

That’s the reality of being a parent. We have these small people and they have needs, and those needs that feel at times like so much to ask are really pretty basic.

They need to be fed. They need to be clothed and kept warm. They need some stimulation and for someone to promise to teach them the ways of the world.

I look at the smallest person in my life and I know that he doesn’t even really know what he needs. He just looks to me to give it to him. I can fix what’s uncomfortable and most of the time whatever that is is all he really needs fixed.

He was fussy the other day and I knew he needed to sleep. But sleep is so hard when you’re a mere 10 weeks old. Sleep, which we cherish as parents, is not something that comes easily when we’re this new. So we look to our mamas to fix it.

I picked him up and nestled him in close to my body and held him tight. All the tension in his small frame released, suddenly, like a drain had been pulled so that all the angst could just swirl away. Within seconds he was snoring.

He was like that again today; for him, mornings are hard. And today it was dad who was there to pick him up and give him the place and the space to sleep. Because sometimes it’s really that simple.

Sometimes all we need is for someone to hold us while we sleep.

I wrote this last week (and then didn’t publish it) before the tragic events in Newtown, Connecticut. I wasn’t going to post it this week but then I decided I would and, in doing so, count my blessings.