Two months ago, 56 tornadoes hit the Omaha area.
On that day two months ago, I was also on a plane to go to another country—one a couple of continents away. Within that hour, I found out just how far away home can really feel when your children are stuck in school sheltering for impending danger.
Home never felt as far as it did when I was separated from my babies. For a moment, it felt selfish to say yes to something I had long waited for. Yeses come with other noes, but this was the first time it was truly tested.
From the second I met her, I knew my friend who founded the nonprofit in Rwanda could get me in trouble. She’s the type who lets your toddler wipe his runny nose on her leg and let him play with the hole in her ripped jeans. She’s a troublemaker and a storyteller—my favorite type of person.
So I paced. Anxiety washed over my entire body. That’s when a flight attendant came on the speaker and announced something was wrong with our plane.
Delayed.
A month ago, Zach, my kids, and I watched Interstellar. Doesn’t sound monumental, but Zach, who makes a special occasion out of everything, hasn’t watched this movie since seeing it in IMAX 10 years ago.
It’s his favorite. After watching it the first time, he knew he wanted to watch it with our kids next.
Ten years later, we’re curled up with blankets, popcorn, and a late bedtime to watch the 3-hour marvel. And it hit something different.
Parenthood is a lot like a wormhole—time bends in weird ways.. Also, naming a child after Murphy’s Law seems about right.
What can happen, will happen—and that’s what happens when you decide you made the best laid-out plans. How do I trust and belong to my circumstances?
Our trip was delayed enough to hear that my children made it safe from school, our house was okay, and no one we knew was hurt.
Remarkable.
We’re two months out from those May tornadoes, and now there’s flooding on the river nearby, diverting traffic and changing plans. While my family is wrapping up the summer with spontaneous concert plans and even a small trip, ending this season sure seems like a lot of route changes due to impending storms.
I recently took a full-time position with the Omaha Conservatory of Music as a grant writer and impact stories coordinator. It wasn’t in my plans to work full-time yet because, like I said before, parenting seems like a wormhole. Our oldest is now entering 7th grade, our middle is gearing up for 5th grade, and our youngest will begin 2nd grade. We’re solidly into the big kid years, and I don’t know what to do with it.
For so long, I marked my identity as a mom of little kids, but there’s a route change—the impending storms of puberty, older childhood, and inflation come roaring my way. And now I’m working full-time? I have a 401(k). I have to schedule moments with my children because their schedules are just as busy as mine. And can someone seriously please answer how in the world you schedule time to have sex with your spouse when your kids now stay up late (but really, this might be the most pressing question)?
One of the things I learned on my travels with my friend who convinced me to say yes to a trip to Rwanda is that good trouble can make excellent stories. I’m committed to making the most of this season with its dramatic storms, detours, and spontaneous options. Sure, it’s uncomfortable to shift because your budget needs it (hello, new job) or if your kids need something a little different than just your presence.
New trouble means the opportunity for new stories.
And I’m here for it.
xoxo,
Neidy, a Downtown Girl looking for Trouble and Stories
Here's to the t r o u b l e And s t o r i e s we find Because Truth is Rumbles and struggle Often remind Us of where can find Beautiful tales to ground Labored feet and Exhaustion so heavy— So we open our eyes To the wonder Our souls need to be Reminded of how Incredible our very Existance truly ought to be Solemnly celebrated.
A brief note of gratitude:
Hello to you wonderful new readers! I’m so glad you’re here. Thank you for being so patient as I write a new newsletter after what seemed to be a great deal of detours. Here, you’ll find a story, poetry, music, other writing, and maybe a recommendation or two. I try to keep my newsletter free, but I would love your engagement and attention. Leave a little note at the end 💕
A playlist for the Dog Days of Summer!
Lately, I’ve been exploring new ways to write especially hard topics (like racism). My essay for Mothering Spirit was inspired by my friend
’s creative exercise that she wrote for Exhale!I started reading “Scary Stories for Young Foxes” out loud to my daughter because she’s into the macabre. It’s creepy, wonderful, and delightful to tell around a campfire.
One more book recommendation: If you can get your hands on “The Many Lives of Mama Love” at the library via audiobook, DO IT. You won’t regret it!
Until next time, friends!
P.S. Okay. Maybe one last recommendation—this is for you lactose-intolerance folks. Y’all need to find yourself this Lactose-free Fage Greek yogurt, and you won’t regret it. Pair it with this granola recipe my friend created.
P.P.S. I lied. Those were two recommendations, but maybe we all need granola and lactose-free yogurt.
All we can do is hope right?!
And bless you, dear mama, that’s walked through this journey and answered how ridiculous this season can be 🤣🤣🤣
TURN THE VOLUME ALL THE WAY UP ON THOSE THINGS PLEASE.
I'm over here simultaneously shouting the goodness of big kids while also trying to figure out the sex question. So far what I've come up with is that apparently we need to move so our bedrooms are on different floors. 😂 Please report back if you find a less drastic answer!