We Got a Dog

The last thing I would have ever thought to possibly bust up my hiatus from blogging would be the words “we got a dog”. 


Alas, we got a dog.  I, long time proponent of feeling nothingness around every dog I’ve ever met… caved and said yes. What the heck? Something new! Life was getting a little… comfortable. 

Her name is Ellie. She is a mini golden doodle and is adorable. She is also magical in that she doesn’t shed whatsoever.

I have cried much. 

I have cried all the cries. 


I have called my husband while he was at work and (rage) sobbed for fifteen minutes (I’ve never called him while he is at work for more than a 60 second question in the entirety of our ten year marriage). 

Were these tears of joy, Ashley? You were so moved to love an entity so much? You were caught off by your new found affections for your puppy? You realized that dog really is man’s best friends and you were grieving the 33 years you wasted not seeing this truth???

No! No, no no.

These were tears of unrelenting, deep, deep, turtles all the way down regret. For the poop clean-up. And the deodorizing. And the child defending. And the bite training. And the standing in the cold and rain in the middle of the night for the dog to do her thing. And the nonstop checking on her that was making my brain short circuit into a billion fragments and rendering me a useless, unproductive husk of a woman. And depression!! Depression! Puppy PTSD! Something I was delighted (only in the sense of being validated online for something I had sensed due to, among other noted experiences, a feeling of dark despair to the core of my soul) to find confirmed by others who also shouted into the void (Reddit) things like “I just want my life back” and “What the hell was I thinking? I mean, really!! What was I thinking??!!”


Oh and also for that one day she bled in her poop. Then she diarrhea-ed all over my car. And then waiting politely until I had cleaned all of that up to also vomit all over the inside of my car. 

Tears. Lots of them. I like a tidy life. This was ——ha!!! Hahahaha…

One day I cried in such a way that I didn’t even know that I was capable of crying like that.  Like finding out you can roll your tongue to make a W and you were just walking around all those years not knowing. Not knowing! 

One day I scrolled through Instagram because I just knew this one family got a dog some time ago… I knew it. And like the crazy person I had become, I scrolled down down down down to see yes! They did have a dog!! But where did that dog go?? The dog disappears from the Instagram feed with not a mention. Did they send it away silently?  Saying nothing of this online? Did that mom also cry, gripping her living room rug one day while saying “Go away kids. Mommy isn’t okay right now” and decided the very next day it was time for puppy to be kindly sent off. Something like that? Just a hypothetical. 

I can say that things are better now. I look at her and think okay. 

I walk with her around the neighborhood and sometimes smile and then think she’s poisoning my brain and then she looks up at me so cute and I know that she is. 


Here are a few signs that life with puppy is not going well:

  1. You listen to a friend recount the string of dogs she has owned. Between accident and sickness, (you are listening while also doing math) the average life span of her dogs so far equals one third of how long you were told your puppy will live and you think: what luck!

*Actually, I think I’ll spare you from the rest of the signs. If you have never had a puppy before and are considering getting one—-Also, you ARE NOT A DOG PERSON but are happy to do so for your family—-message me and we’ll chat. 

A neighbor talked to me about how it was going with Ellie at a Christmas party. She said she’s never wanted one. Her family does. But still she just doesn’t want to do it. I urged, “Good. Go with that.” 

I took Ellie to get groomed last week. The groomer is just a couple blocks from my house. It’s quaint and convenient in a way that could only be one-upped by a bookstore cafe, should it be within walking distance of my front door. The groomer explained to me how to start brushing Ellie’s fur, and after some basic paperwork said they would call me in a couple hours. I walked home high as a freaking kite. 

I strolled in through the doorway and greeted the kids. “TWO HOURS! TWO HOURS! We can do whatever we want for two hours, guys!!!” They weren’t as enthusiastic as me, but I was enthusiastic enough for all of us. I got more done in those two hours than I had since we brought her home. My decision making and task completing engines were firing at an alarmingly magical rate much like a machine gun only if that machine gun threw out bullets of undiluted happiness and joy of every imaginable color God had ever created. 

So, I have learned something. I like getting things done.  This explains why the transition to motherhood was hard. Both times. And why I felt like getting a dog was death. There’s me. There’s getting things done. And when someone/something/whatever gets in the way of me and getting things done an ugly monster of embarrassing proportions rears its head. I’m working on it. 

So it’s all gonna be fine. I’m just going to sleep a little less. Cut back on gym time since I can’t figure out, try as I might, how to duplicate myself. Walk Ellie a lot since we both appear to onlookers stupid happy about that. And take her to the groomer more than socially acceptable or fiscally responsible. 

I realized having a dog is just another way to die to self, so in that context, my Catholic sensibilities are pretty pleased.  I don’t think that’s the clincher for why other people get dogs though. There’s got to be more to it.  I see some of you with your dogs and you seem pretty darn pleased with yourselves. It’s a mystery unto my soul. 


I let Ellie lick on my knee this morning where my jeans are faux torn. There’s an animal in my house. Why is there an animal in my house? And why am I letting her lick me? 

But she looked so happy and content and loving. We are getting really great at tolerating each other.  

She’s definitely poisoning my brain. 

When you are interested in homeschooling and would love some direction! 

We are wrapping up our 3rd year of homeschooling. What a happy thing to celebrate! It calls for some doughnuts and maybe an Anderson family collective cannonball into the pool. 

I really can’t believe we are still living life this way. It’s equal parts crazy and amazing. I really genuinely love it despite it taking some grit here and there. I treasure my time with my kids, and I am so grateful I have the freedoms to teach them at home. 


I’ve had quite a few people reach out to me recently about homeschooling, so today I’m sharing a few things that will be helpful if you (or someone you know) is curious about homeschooling and would love to know more. 

Pull up your sleeves and pour some coffee or tea. Let’s dig in.

  1. Start with why.  I promise there is more than enough information you could ever want about how to homeschool and what to teach. What I urge you to do first though is to simply do a brain dump on why you are interested. Do it on paper or type it up. You might surprise yourself with your reasons. I keep my list on my computer and review it each year. It has been immensely valuable.


       Here are just some ways that your list of reasons can help:

          + guide you in picking out curriculum 

          + help structure your days to reflect values

          + unite you and your spouse in your mission

          + provide peace & resolve when things get tough (and they will)

          + kickstart your confidence 

2.  Check your legal requirements.  A simple Google search will help you navigate these requirements. Some examples of requirements include: compulsory school age, school hours and days needed, documentation specifics, testing or evaluation methods, etc. 

Once you review them, call and ask the appropriate representatives for clarification and assurance you’ve got all your bases covered. You should feel very clear about these legal requirements, so if you don’t, definitely ask. People love to help, so chat around until you’ve got them down.

3. Get acquainted with different types of homeschooling. Now that you are aware of the absolute basic requirements from your state, branch out your understanding of how it all works. Classical. Traditional. Unschooling. Charlotte Mason. Jefferson. Montessori. Eclectic. Waldorf. Heck, maybe you’ll find some I’ve never even heard of. The homeschooling movement is huge and growing all the time. 

You may not (we definitely don’t) fall exactly into one category. You don’t need to. But you should know a little bit about different methods or styles so you know what’s out there. We consider ourselves classical/eclectic homeschoolers. Even then, I’m influenced greatly by Charlotte Mason and teach more that way each year. 



4. Assess your situation.  

You’ve got a basic idea of how different groups design their homeschool whether it be a boxed curriculum or a Charlotte Mason approach that strictly follows the schedule provided on Ambleside Online. But before you pull the trigger on buying stuff, you’ll want to take one more look at yourself, your kids, and your home. 

    + What is your temperament? 

    + What sort of environment do you thrive in? How about your kids? 

    + What motivates you most? And them? 

    + What sort of set-up would ensure things actually get done? (That one is very important). 

    + What do you anticipate will be some of your greatest challenges? (Creative solutions?)

    + What are your strengths & how could you make those work for you for the best possible outcome? 

    + What are you already doing well, and what is the next thing you need to keep building on that? 

    + Alternatively, what is not going well (either at home or current education setting), and what is the next thing you need in order to amend that? 

    + What kind of space would you like your school area to look like and how would you like it to function? What will it realistically look like? 

    + What kind of money are you working with? Budget time! 

Address each of these thoroughly. With a little research, some creativity and some grit, you can create a vision and execute on it. It’s very important to remember that each home is unique. Someone might just glow and glow about a certain book or program or resource, but if it isn’t a good fit for you and your kids, it probably won’t lift off the ground for you. 

5. Connect with others, read books, and listen to podcasts. 

It’s time to cast your net for great ideas and fantastic stuff. 

Facebook groups abound for homeschoolers and for just about every type of niche you can imagine. You can always visit local homeschool groups in person as well. And chatting with a homeschool mom there or over the phone can be incredibly helpful. I’ve done it & highly recommend it. They will help you connect with local resources and programs, give helpful tips you didn’t even know you needed, and happily answer any questions you’ve got. I promise. 

Some helpful podcasts: Wild + Free, Schole Sisters, The Homeschool Solutions Show, Brave Writer, The Homeschool Snapshots Podcast, The Morning Basket, A Delectable Education, and The Mason Jar. 

Some helpful books: The Well-Trained Mind (I’ve used this for years), Home Learning Year by Year (I peak at this a few times every year), Teaching in your Tiara (great for getting started), For the Children’s Sake (pure gold) Teaching from Rest: A Homeschooler’s Guide to Unshakable Peace (Sarah also leads the Read Aloud Revival podcast—great stuff), How Children Learn (this shifted by educational philosophy and outlook dramatically), and then there’s the whole Charlotte Mason series as well. 

6. Purchase curriculum. 



A few basic tips about curriculum or purchasing resources that I feel strongly about:

  • Nothing is perfect but a lot of good, great, or almost perfect resources can shine with the creativity and positivity of an enthusiastic and faithful teacher.  Have peace that you will be able to teach your child well. Your enjoyment of learning, your charisma, leadership, etc. will be the most powerful tool you’ve got. Be wary of switching resources at the slightest hiccup or frustration. It can be so tempting to associate a purchase or signing up for something as the necessary means to succeed. But really, homeschooling is primarily a lot of steady dedication. And a lot of times that can mean being resourceful with what you’ve got even when it’s not shiny, new, or noteworthy. 


  • However, if you have the money and are intentional about it, supplementing your schooling in smart ways can be quite life-giving! I have seen this in small ways (buying a couple workbooks for the twins so that they would sit and have structured time in order for me to teach Thomas) and in big ones (this year, purchasing lots of supplemental history reads so they would be here and I wouldn’t have to hunt them down at the library every couple weeks—-such a blessing!). Were these things absolute must have, can’t-do-school-without-them needs? No. But they also weren’t feverish, frantic, or from a place of fear. Simply put, they made my job easier & I’m so glad I’ve splurged here or there for some things to make what we do more enjoyable, peaceful, efficient, etc. 


  • You can buy things used, so remember this if things are adding up quickly and your budget needs some breathing room.


  • Check out reviews on YouTube. You’ll want to be careful of ads, sponsorships, etc., but if you can weed through that, you can often find some helpful demonstrations, explanations of how homeschools actually put the resources to use which will make you more confident in your purchases. 


7. Dive in.  

Execute. Evaluate. Adjust. Repeat. (x about a billion.)

You’ve got this! 


If you have any questions about anything I’ve mentioned in this post or anything I’ve failed to include, or about anything else related to homeschooling or how we do it, let me know! I hope this was helpful. Homeschooling can be an intimidating undertaking, but it doesn’t have to be. It can be an experience that leads to lots of joy and success. I hope I can be of some assistance, so do not hesitate to message me or comment below. 



South Carolina


We moved to South Carolina September 1st, 2017.  Same job for Paul — just in a new locale. 


In these past five months I’ve grown quite accustomed to pine needles and friendly neighbors.  We’ve enjoyed blue skies, warm days, nights on our screened-in back porch, and even the occasional sweet tea—-because “if in Rome”.  We miss family & friends and yet have been blessed with their generosity of time in visiting us. Christmas with Paul’s sister, Moira. A too-good-to-be-true Charleston trip with my sisters. A weekend with my brother, Matt, my sister-in-law, Jessica, and their charming brood of kids. And one of my all time favorite memories of last year—painting with my parents and Paul. 


We are all the time grateful for new experiences, whether difficult or wonderful or a mix of both. Adventures with the kids tramping across new parks. Dinners, brunches, and clinked whiskey glasses with friends. And the bad? Well, mostly just that the ceiling quite literally fell down in our rental. That and I can’t find a salon I like to save my life.

Things most missed back in Springfield: walking my neighborhood, seeing my sisters (gah),  seeing my sisters’ kids hang out with my kids (can’t let myself think about that one), Andy’s (frozen custard), being close to everything, our backyard, our YMCA branch, and our homeschool co-op.

But there are so many wonderful things here (just as there are everywhere).

Here’s one. When I looked up Catholic churches in Columbia, there was only one even remotely close and upon further peeking online seemed to be… not even a traditional building… just kinda…temporary? I had my doubts. But from sliding into that padded pew for our very 1st mass, I was in love.  Father Jim’s style is so wonderful. He speaks plainly, directly, practically— without watering a single thing down. He seems to be circling around one core message: come as you are.  I look forward to mass every week in a way I haven’t felt in such a long, long time. It will break my heart if/when we move away.  

Homeschooling has been difficult since the move. Rather, homeschooling was difficult. For the 1st time since embarking on homeschooling, I completely doubted what we were doing. I felt so anxious, angsty & confused why we were doing something so confoundingly difficult. It feels light again. And steady. And good in just the way it did, or maybe better, than before the move. I will hopefully write more about this when I can. 


Moving has an incredible way of sifting things out ‘till you’re left looking down at a few glints of gold. It helps us see us as we are—at our core. Going through all those possessions. Pulling even less possessions out of boxes. We can’t un-know what we finally grasp during the climax of a move. Who we love. What weights we were happy to toss. It’s been (at times) a difficult process I’m endlessly glad to have gone through. I pity the alternate version of myself who said no to the move. 


I’m painting steadily again. And working out. And reading. All things I would love to share with you here once again. This is all to say, all is well. Now that I feel on firm ground, my heart is swelling up with new ideas, goals, and plans! 


Plans. I’m so excited for so many things this year. I want to pack in as many adventures with the kids in as we possibly can! Playing at the beach. Camping. Hiking. Discovering!! And we have family visiting & we’ll visit family, and I could not be more excited. I’m such a planner and seeing things on the horizon to look forward, to benchmark time with, to anticipate—-ah, it’s the greatest joy for me! Mostly, I feel very open to that vulnerable, quiet, exciting space of being new to a place and learning so much as we meet new faces & spaces. 

I’ll stop there and save some more for another day.  Say hello if you’re here. I’ve missed you guys. 




P.S. If you are reading this and you are one of the many, many friends and family members who have helped us transition (either on the MO end or here in SC), thank you, thank you, thank you!! The advice, messages, tips, hugs, calls, and just everything will always mean so much to us. 


10 years since that first little “yes” 

February 13th, 2007. He asked me to be his girlfriend that day. He was 20 and I was 22. 

I’ve spent 10 years of my life intimately and intricately linked with someone now not by the fate of family but by one sweeping hope-sprung choice. All of our feverish, tumultuous twenties in step with each other. Life could have been a path forged any which way but we turned to each other instead.

I can’t imagine what my college roommates thought at the onset of our relationship: two fools rushing in (and rush we did—engaged after two months). I was no more equipped to be a girlfriend —or a wife all the more— than properly skin a deer.  But here I sit in a home we’ve made, three kids’ beds in a room painted blue. It’s all so real, so good, so normal, and yet still a surprise when I remember I was young and tumbled into something that required moment after moment, year after year of—- building, trying, listening, working, serving, forging, forgiving, folding towels, stacking plates, and putting on love once again. 

He was a safe harbor first. Fireworks later. 


Marriage is a goodness dressed up in ordinary clothes. Hidden in coffee cups and tucked in sheets. The work of two opposites drawing nearer is of endless fascination to me. A wave crashing rapturously on the solid shore, each unapologetically forces their own. 

In these ten years, I’ve gained so much. Little things not too little when I think how they could have been things that never were. Not to gossip. How to welcome people in. Saying plainly what I mean. How to fight in a way where nothing and no one walks away broken. 

The greatest lesson I’ve learned in our 1st 10 years together is that very little (if anything) is impossible where kindness comes first. I am not in competition with him. I am in communion with him.  He does not take from me unless I surrender something by measures of falsehoods.

Kindness means shaking off fear and rebuking manipulation. Kindness means grace. Kindness means generosity, abundance. Kindness means pausing, listening, being comfortable with moments of discomfort. Saying, showing, that is is all okay.

Oh, I’ve gotten this wrong so many times. Thousands of times. But I always come back to this one answer for how to live and lead. Kindness.

For me, I’ve picked up how to be direct and gentle because this is how he is with me. To go to him simply and to say what I need without faltering. Then to go about my day focused on the task in front of me (wiping sticky hands, explaining pronouns, and sweeping up crumbs), trusting he will do his best to meet my needs the best he can and we will keep moving forward. Mostly, remembering that marriage is a radical act of showing up more for the other person than caring how they are showing up for you. In the end, it is our own body we answer for. It is our words, our service, our respect—not our ability to maintain control or strike fear into someone as a means of self-preservation.  

Loving someone for 10 years—yet they be simply steady, solid, good—means nothing less than brave vulnerability however much family portraits and daily rituals make us comfortable or, worse, sleepy.  It takes one match to start a forest fire, one malformed branch to bring down a tree. Which one of us can reach out our hands without touching someone who has hurt or is hurting from divorce, the affair, abandonment, the insincerity of someone else’s yes? 

I speak of these things because I want to stay awake—-fully, happily, brightly awake. To keep in perspective that I am unfairly blessed in that I am still here reaping the fruit of a marriage to a man who is good. I reject the luke warm waters of familiarity, of busy-bodying through our thirties. Instead, I want to keep risking myself to the man who risked it all. I fix my gaze steady, to look at him lingeringly, with a smile tucked up in my eyes.  This love, this work, is still the most important thing I will ever do with my life, but it is by my nature and empowerment as a woman that it is not without excitement, warmth, color, complexity, and life. 

I look at Paul and I remember him 20. I remember times when I was too harsh, when I didn’t listen, when he took care of me, when he held our babies on their first day, all the times he used self-control as if a faucet pouring out love. I try sometimes to remember to look at him with his mother’s eyes—a boy who played with the stereo system and did what he was told when his parents needed him, a boy who once learned how to kick out his feet to swing. 

And when looking at him I know painfully that 20 or even 40 years may not be enough for me to uncover all there is in that man. I may never have enough to time to get the words right or the timing perfect, to let him know adequately what he has meant to me or that, even simpler, that I can see him just as he is. 

I still believe, 10 years after that quick yes, in the abandonment of what I know for the knows-no-bounds call of my vocation. That falling into something so much larger than the small of me ( no matter how big I feel I am ) is a work worthy of the whole of my life. 



My Anxiety & Depression Toolbox

I’m no stranger to anxiety or depression. Two years ago I was having intense albeit brief panic attacks every few weeks. In college, I would shift in and out of mild depression. And between these small burdens, normalcy. Lots of ordinary, happy days with strokes or dips of anxieties and depression scattered here and there. And so, I’ve built my own toolbox of sorts over the years to fix and bounce back. 

Last year was a wonderful year for me for a number of reasons but the main one being the workout program I was on (still am--yay!) with my sisters. 1 sole tiny panic attack the entire year and other than the downer that was the fall back time change, I would say depression was very, very far from my mind. 

Winter is a tough one for some of us.  Depression & anxiety can catch us off guard when we least expect it. And so it makes sense to share these things with you now. 

Sharing with you about these personal tricks I use feels like slippery vulnerability—one of those posts I’m praying finds itself in front of the right person (please) because I wouldn’t be writing this out unless I thought it had a fighting chance at helping. 

And of course I have to put that very necessary disclaimer here that I am no one’s doctor. I can’t speak to clinical anxiety and depression or how to treat it except to say that my words won’t suffice. However, if like me, you know what you need is just a little tweak or boost — I genuinely hope there is something new or old here for you!

  1. Baby steps in the moment. 

As soon as I recognize that I’m anxious (overreacting to things) or depressed (numb to things), I tell myself that. It may sound silly, but it’s super important. If I notice I’m indecisive or foggy, yep. Noted. If I start getting restless, I almost tap myself on the shoulder to say so.  Additionally, if I know why I’m feeling that way I make it clear to myself, “I feel anxious because I’ve never been here before” or “I feel depressed because it’s the 4th dreary day in a row and I need some sunshine.” 

Next, I figure out the action step for the moment. Not for tomorrow. Not for next week. For the next five minutes.  These widely vary, so more on them in a bit.  But here’s what the point of this is. Both anxiety and depression sever us from fully engaging in the moment. So, essentially, I tie myself back into the reality things. Draw a line from point A (here—literally A for Ashley) to point B.  Clean 1 room. Just breathe. Sit in quiet for a minute.  Listen to the person in front of me. Fill out the forms at the doctor’s office. 

2. Step back & recognize patterns. 

I can’t drink anything with aspartame in it because aspartame makes me cray. If people stay at my house for more than a day, I have to get up and get moving, maybe go for a long walk or a little exclusion or do a small project while they are with me or I’ll get very anxious.  I know that I don’t do well having visitors over (except for just a very, very small number of people really close to me) while Paul is gone for a travel week—the stress is simply just not worth it. More than a few days without exercise and I’m a hot mess internally. 

“Why did I do that?” is a great question to think about 1 day or 1 week after something happens where I know I was not bringing my best self forward. It’s not easy in the moment to see what set us off or sent us under.  For example, I mentioned how I was having panic attacks 2 years ago. I didn’t realize why at the time, but it makes 1000% sense to me now. That was when the twins were toddlers and kept hurting themselves while their hemophilia diagnosis was still fresh. The procedures for care and payment and everything was still getting sorted out amidst visit after visit to the ER and doctor. The boys are very physical and every time they would fall or run my blood pressure would soar like my heart would burst out of my chest. Whew. I don’t know how I managed all that.  Of course my body went haywire. I don’t know how it wouldn’t have. (Things are much, much calmer now. By leaps and bounds. Ha! Unintended pun.)

The problem is that we can’t always recognize prolonged stress on our bodies. But we can take note once things go haywire, that our body is sending up white flags and it is time to listen. And that’s fine too.

3. Nuts & bolts. 

Here are the specific action steps I turn to when I’m feeling out of sorts. And remember, anxiety and depression are on a very wide spectrum.  Even small anxieties rob us, so it’s ok to ward off those too. 

  1. drop everything and play (or laugh or smile) 
  2. clean 1 room
  3. decide on the 1 action step I can take even if the thing making me anxious is otherwise largely out of my control
  4. get my heart rate up
  5. “ground” myself—go weed, rake leaves, work in the yard, etc. (it’s a real thing. yes, it works)
  6. do an act of kindness for someone else
  7. write a prayer list for all the people I know of in just the last week or two that or hurting, healing, hoping
  8. write a gratitude list
  9. offer it up specifically by moving your feet when you don’t feel like it and offering it up in someone’s name while you do
  10. spread the love on social media by giving very specific and/or genuine comments
  11. or, if you can, do it in real life
  12. drink water, eat a salad, and otherwise go find some seriously needed fuel

These are just some examples. Getting my heart rate up and having quiet time are my rock solid go to options, but everyone will have their own individual things.  

And one more thing, I believe we were all made to be creative.  I say let those funky feelings of being tightly wound, about to scream, or sucked undertow create some beautiful art. It’s energy or the need for it in the end that sends us forth to paint, write, mince peppers, and press seeds into dirt. So, if all else falls, go play artist and let your fog, fears, or otherwise play in the driver’s seat with an outlet that’s totally safe… and maybe even life-giving. 

4. Shake off the shame. 

One of my favorite truisms is that the devil delights in our hiding.  When we hide in our sin or our pain. Stepping out in faith may mean just saying to your spouse “I don’t know that I feel quite right. Can you help me think through this?”. Or it can be as simple as matter-of-factly saying “I’m feeling a little anxious right now but I’m listening”.  The reason we feel shame is that depression & anxiety can bring out the worst in us, but working through that with the people close to us, who love us deeply, can be the most liberating, humbling, beautiful experience ever.  

If you right now feel a little lump in your throat because little pieces of what I’m sharing resonates I just want to say this to you:  

The people close to you want one thing more than anything else, or above all else, for you—for you to walk in freedom. For you to be completely whole.  For you to feel peace.  

If you feel broken up, busted, swept under, or out of control—know that it is okay.  You are good. You will feel better soon. Reach out and take just 1 step today.  Keep your head up. Fake it until you make it. Put on joy. And be totally okay with a little bit of a hot mess while you work out some kinks in your otherwise glorious, wonderful you. 

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I wouldn't be writing to you today about this unless I myself was on solid ground.  I hope this feels like an arm pulling you up.  Or if you are also on solid ground but have also tripped up in the messiness of anxieties or depression, you now know you and I have a little more in common.  

Life is good, but it can definitely slam us down in the ring from time to time too.  Here's to dusting ourselves off and getting back in there.


Love you all,