Amy Writes

My eyes squint open, and I get my bearings. My bed. Light coming in the window. What morning is it? Tuesday. What's on the schedule today? I don't hear kids. Where are the kids? Oh, right - at mom's. I need to go get them so they can get home and do school and piano. Remember to thank mom for keeping them so we could go meet Adriana. Adriana, who has been a friend forever. Hooray for forever friends. How am I feeling today? Stretch everything - it all seems to be working. Open hands and stretch, close hands. Open hands and stretch, close hands. Joints all lubed up and ready to go. Check phone for missed calls or texts overnight, not because I'm so popular but because I have so much family nearby and anything can happen at anytime. Hooray for so much family nearby. So much to be thankful for. So wait, then, why am I crying? Why, when I wake up in good health, surrounded by people who love me and who require a relative precious little of me, in a well-built, air condi

I like to write in the quiet moments. My last post was April 28, 2011. Two years ago. There have not been a lot of quiet moments since then. From time to time, I will start a new exercise regimen. I will dive headlong into it, declaring THIS to be the time that I will reach my potential as an athlete, rid my body of those pesky toxins and finally fit back into those skinny jeans that barely fit before my third baby was delivered by C-section. I will find new motivations and time will magically appear in my day where I can squeeze in a workout. I will dress in exercise clothes because I am a person who exercises, and I want you to know it. In those times, it seems so easy, like something that I could have been doing all along. But then I'll get a sinus infection, or go on a vacation, or it'll rain for a week so I can't run and life gets in the way and the skinny jeans get tucked further back in the closet and the sneakers get dusty, and the thought of picking up where