Clear out the old
I had this dream a few nights ago that I was riding a bike, the kind with baskets on either side of the back wheel. In the baskets were some books and other things, and I was biking my way to a new life.
I was traveling light; all my stuff was in storage somewhere. Yet, as I cut across the my old college campus in Minnesota (clearly the most direct route from Nevada to Colorado), there were all my worldly belongings laid out across folding tables, right in front of the dorms.
The guys running my end-of-an-era clearance sale were very friendly, although they had no idea who I was. As I browsed through my own belongings I asked a few questions about prices, which they answered with a smile in between assisting other customers. There were a few things I was tempted to purchase and bring along; I had plenty of room in the bike baskets still.
But then I set down everything I was holding, got back on my bike and left. The bike wheels whizzed across the grass; the wind smelled like fresh green; my cheeks hurt from smiling so wide.
I woke up still smiling.
Oh hey there, struggling stepparent!
Listen, I put together a new website just for high-conflict blended families: Blended Family Frappé. Come on over and join the hundreds of other stepparents who are reclaiming their sanity one Sunday newsletter at a time.