My daughter heard an ad on Pandora for 250 free business cards. She ordered them on a mother’s helper quest. She is ten, and thrilled that: 1) they are free, 2) they are blue, 3) they have three little owls on them along with her name and contact info. What thrills me is that as cuspy-pre-teeny as she is, she still wants to call to tell me such details, to text me a picture from her dad’s phone of the flyer she made, complete with little pull-off tabs for parents in the co-housing community where she now lives half the time.
She’s not sitting around thinking about things like self-confidence or entrepreneurial spirit or how to engage in the community or even what she’s good at per se; she just is, and what she gets excited does embodies being. This is the kind of thing I find myself feeling grateful for lately.
Seven months ago, I was laid off from a position I’d held for 18 months, a job that showed up as a godsend weeks after we stood under a tree in the woods out behind our house and surrendered our fight to stay married. A year later, thanks to being gainfully employed, I was able to buy him out and keep the house that had nestled us with our babies, their best friends just three houses away, the backyards bleeding together, the trampoline serving as a communal stomping ground for the dozen or so kids on and around our dead-end street.
But wait, there’s more! Continue reading over at Black House Studio, where I’m honored to be Amelia’s guest today.