I live about 9 miles from where I work, and it takes me anywhere from 10 to 15 minutes to get from A to B, depending on the weight of my foot that day. Life has been hard since my return from Vegas, but not (just) because I miss the pool and margaritas.

The word “tribe” was used at the farewell brunch, and I couldn’t agree more. When I got home from BiSC 2011, I told P that BiSCuits were “my people.”

BiSC 2013 only solidified that.

I think that what makes the transition back to real life so difficult is that I have so few of my people geographically near me. Pre-Vegas, I was okay with it – I didn’t love it, but I accepted it. It is what it is.

But post-Vegas?

Guys.

The four days I spent with my fellow BiSCuits reminded me what it’s like to be surrounded by people I LOVE and admire and look up to, to be surrounded by people who inspire me, who push me to be a better version of me. These people are the ones who have made me truly understand that it’s okay to have fun AND be a mom, which is a Big Fucking Deal because I judged myself so hard pre-Vegas.

So now I have a lot of thinking to do, deciding where I belong and if this is it.

Because my town and my view might be pretty, but is it really mine?

I can’t even with the words right now.

I am back and recovering from the physical and emotional shit-storm that was Bloggers in Sin City.

Something in me has changed. Something subtle, but very real. I feel myself walking a little bit taller (which is great when you’re 5’1″) and holding my head a little higher (which is unexpected after a weekend in mother-effing VEGAS). I am more Kaci today than I was before Thursday.

This unconference has changed my life in ways I’m sure I haven’t even discovered yet. And while I have a series of posts about the trip planned, there are some things I need to say before I get to all of that.

First, I have to thank Nicole, Doni and Jamie for their amazingness in doing all the things for BiSC. You girls. I can’t.

But mostly, I need to talk a little more in general about my trip, my justification for it (not that I need to justify myself to y’all – but to justify it to myself) and basically just why the fuck I had to go.

I think it’s easy for new moms to completely devote themselves to their new life as a mom. Not “easy” as in “not a lot of work” or “not difficult to do,” but easy as in… that feels like what we should be. We feel like we must completely BE our new title, 100% of the time.

That’s bullshit.

Yes, I’m a mom. And I love you E, but…

I’m still Kaci. I still like to have fun and get dressed up and wear pretty things and laugh at ridiculous things. I still like to talk to other females about things that aren’t poopy diapers and crazy toddler antics.

I still have all of these feelings and likes and dislikes and thoughts and feelings about things that have nothing to do with being a mom. And that’s okay.

I’ve known that this is all okay, but it wasn’t until Katherine and I were talking about it in Vegas that I fully understood why I know it’s okay to still be me, to retain all the parts of myself that make me who I am.

If I lose myself, forget myself, and am nothing but about E all the time, all day, every day, forever and ever amen… the chances that E will learn that the world is NOT about E all the time, all day, every day forever and ever amen, are slim to none. How can I hope for him to grow into a kind, selfless, thoughtful man if I teach him now that my life is the E Show?

My family will always be The Most Important, but I have to remember Kaci. Which, is why I can say…

I love you E, but I went to Vegas.

As you get older, I feel more and more intensely how little control I have over your life, and how quickly I am losing what little control I have left. Son, I hope you realize it’s not about control but your safety. I worry about you, and I love you, and I would give anything to keep you safe, always.

As you learn more about your surroundings, I realize more and more how ugly and scary this world can be. Son, I hope you never lose sight of the beauty this world has to offer as well.

As you grow into your own person, I understand more and more that while so much of you will depend on what your father and I teach you, there is still a big part of you that is just you. Son, I hope you never let go, sacrifice or compromise the real you. 

As you develop skills, opinions, likes, and dislikes, I see more and more the heavy burden society has placed on gender roles and what it means to be a man. Son, I hope you never let society dictate what you think you can and cannot be, or can and cannot do.

As you grow up, I understand how quickly time can pass despite every attempt to savor each and every moment. Son, I hope you never take life – and all it has to offer – for granted.

My sweet baby boy… you are not a baby anymore. You are a toddler, and you grow and learn so much each day. Every day is something new for you, and it is so exciting to watch you develop. But, time is slipping by so fast these days, and I know my time with you is limited. Before I know it, you’ll be grown and entering The World on your own. And I won’t be there with you, to guide you, to tell you what will hurt you, what is safe.

It’s terrifying. And thrilling. (But mostly terrifying.)

I can only hope that we are teaching and showing you how to live the right way. Good. To be kind. That is my number one hope for you. We are doing the best we know how, and son, I hope it is enough.

Raising E is both a privilege and a responsibility… something I am proud to do, but also something I know I must do the right way. I don’t mean “right” as in “correct,” but “right” as in “good.”

I have to raise a good man. I have to raise a kind man. I have to raise an intelligent, understanding, gentle, smart, funny man.

I have to. But I also get to.

I get to teach him to be strong, but gentle. To be empathetic and understanding. To be kind. To treat women with respect. To treat men with respect.

I get to teach him that love is love, regardless of color or gender.

I get to teach him that we all make mistakes, and that it’s okay to make mistakes as long as you own up to them instead of trying to cover them up.

I get to teach him that words can and do hurt – sometimes more than pain any weapon can cause – and that words should be used carefully.

I get to show him how to dream big and reach for the stars. That nothing is impossible, but that to get what he wants out of life he’s going to have to work really hard to get it. But that it will be worth it.

I get to teach him that nothing in life is permanent. I get to show him how to appreciate the little things as well as the big things.

I get to raise a man.

—

Awhile ago, I read a beautiful piece that Tia wrote about her daughter. This was inspired by that.

Outside is the coolest.

Climbing stairs is the cool

Finding rocks is the coolest.

Eating rocks is the coolest.

Teasing the dogs with sticks is the coolest.

Driving is the coolest.

… but driving a real car is cooler.

Messing up Dad’s collection of nuts/bolts/whatever is the coolest.

My son is the coolest.

Easter was pretty great. E wore a “tie” and got his own cow! Also, I wore a skirt.

You know how sometimes, you’ll be doing some normal part of your daily routine and something hits you, something you hadn’t really come to terms with, from way out in left field?

Yeah, that.

This morning, I was driving to work. No big deal. Just driving along the same windy road, blowing through the same stop sign, when BAM! It hit me. Right in the fucking face.

I’m getting married in a couple weeks. And by Christmas, I’ll be a mother. We will be our own family.

And my dad isn’t here to experience any of that with me.

My dad will never meet his grandchild(ren). He won’t give me away at my wedding and there will be no father-daughter dance at the reception. There was never any intimidation from my dad when P asked for my family’s blessing to marry me. (My mom did that instead. With constant reminders that she will “kick his ass” if needed. Gotta love that woman.) My father won’t be in the waiting room at the hospital when this child is born. This child, due the day after my father’s birthday, will never know that man I called “Dad.” My kids will never hear the scary stories about the “maul cat” while we’re camping on the Tucannon. I’ll never be able to talk him in to dressing up as Santa at Christmas for my kids. He won’t get to teach them how to build forts in the living room, or how to properly shoot a rubberband during their rubberband wars. He’ll never get to show them

Of course, I’ve known all of this. Since that day I lost my dad almost nine years ago, I’ve known this. But now it’s just so much more real because these things are actually HAPPENING now, whereas before, these things were just things that would probably happen at some point in my life.

But now they’re happening, and now it’s all sinking in. It’s almost like I’m dealing with his death all over again.

I’ve opted to walk down the aisle by myself in the wedding. The way I see it, having any other man give me away is a slap in the face to my dad. I won’t do it. There will be an empty seat at the ceremony for him, and I will be decorating a table, with a photo of him, and his belt buckle and hat, at the reception. So he’ll be there, with me, as much as possible.

Even more than he already is.

Related, I’ve learned that cliques don’t cease to exist once you leave high school… or college.

I’ve learned that the little moments are the ones that matter.

I’ve learned that a little dirt never hurt anybody.

I’ve learned that family should always, always, always come first.

I’ve learned that people’s attitudes and behavior can drastically change once you stop giving them what they want.

I’ve learned that there is nothing more important that the health, safety and well-being of my child. NOTHING.

I’ve learned that while I am so thankful for family to watch him while my husband and I are at work, I should be the one with E every day, sharing experiences like this with him…

And this…

I’ve learned that two and three may only be one apart… but when you’re talking about dogs, there is a world of difference.

I’ve learned that following your gut is not always the best advice.

I’ve learned that life is too short to be unhappy.

What have you learned?

Every picture included in this post was taken by my mother-in-law.

So, every once in awhile it’s nice to get away and, I don’t know, see civilization. And so that’s what we did a couple weekends ago – packed our bags and headed for the city.

We stopped for lunch at P’s hometown drive-in…

“Where’s my burger?!”

… before heading to Spokane…

Full belly = nap time in the car.

… where we stayed right by Riverfront Park and shopped and ate (and, in E’s case, ran and played) until we dropped.

Our room had direct access to the lawn outside. Play time!

We had breakfast in our PJs… (Well, one of us did. The rest of us put actual pants on.)

Food is fun.

We were in awe of the animals at Cabela’s…

Fish!

The fish might have been his favorite.

And we definitely enjoyed Olive Garden with Sara and her husband…

Breadsticks! Not pictured: lasagna.

It was a good weekend, but it wasn’t long enough. I miss having quick access to shopping and food and THINGS.

Also, yes, I only took pictures of E. Nothing else really holds my interest like he does!