Author: Erika Petrelli

Just Love

I’m sitting here at my computer, with my four-year old son Dylan sitting at the table across from me. He’s on the other computer, playing Peppa Pig games. I’m supposed to be staring at my computer thinking about blog topics for the day, but instead I’m staring at him and thinking about how unbelievable he is. How smart (as he navigates the laptop like a professional, even w...

Preparation

A combination of layovers and a tight schedule recently led me to be on four planes in 24 hours. It is spring, and it is the Midwest, so weather is frequently a factor, and I was fascinated to experience two of the pilots handle a similar situation in completely different ways. Pilot One, en route to Detroit from Indianapolis, checked in when we were about 25 minutes from landing, as pilots often ...

Stress Be Gone

I had a few bonus nighttime moments recently, with the kids tucked in nice and early after a hearty weekend of family celebrations. I was excited because I was nearing the end of The Girl On The Train and wanted to finish it before leaving on yet another work trip. So I stayed up reading even though I, too, was absolutely pooped after our fun fun weekend. When I finished the book, I wearily made m...

Identity Crisis

I was a “drama kid” growing up. Happily participating in every school play offered (except for the musicals—no singing for me!) from the time I was in about third grade until the time I graduated high school. I loved it, and even declared my future career choice was to become an actress. And while we had to audition for every play, I never worried because I always got a part—not always...

When We Awaken

For some reason lately I’ve been thinking about those moments that awaken us in some way—moments that either subtly or profoundly affect the way we interact with the world. Some of those moments are earth-shattering, like the first time Loss comes up and punches you squarely in the face. (For me, that came in the form of a 7 am phone call when I was 17 years old alerting me to the death of o...

On Celebrating

Many of us are great at celebrating birthdays and special occasions—retirements and babies and promotions and graduations. We offer cards and cakes and candles and sentiments of love and appreciation. We bring flowers and balloons. We sing. We laugh. But how often do we offer a genuine celebration for the not-so-momentous occasions? The quiet moments that mark the passing of time? Celebrations don...

Overstuffed

We recently had our annual administrative retreat, wherein we disappear into the woods for a few days and hopefully come out refreshed, reinvigorated, and clearly focused on the goals and plans for the year ahead. Packing for the trip beforehand, I was chagrined out how ill-equipped my biggest bag was for the task at hand. For a week in the woods needs to include things like sleeping bags and mult...

A Piece of Peace

My son often wakes up very early this morning, wanting the last part of his sleep to be snuggled up in our bed. I love watching him sleep—the sounds he makes; the way he settles his body; his face as it relaxes back into slumber. In those moments, he is completely at peace. I see that kind of peace radiate from my children often. For example, one evening recently after dinner, they went outside to...

Persistence: Why It’s Hard Before It’s Easy

I’ve written about this very thing before, but I’m struck once again at how HARD things are before they become EASY. My son and daughter took a few rounds of swimming lessons this summer. For my son, who only recently turned three, this was his first experience with swimming lessons, and they came at a time when he was only just beginning to enjoy just simply playing in the water. Here...

In Pursuit of the Perfect Bag

I was in NYC recently and scored my first “street bag” in the nearly three years since I’ve lived there. For those of you unfamiliar with New York City ways, vendors align every corner of the popular tourist neighborhoods, selling cell phone covers, hats, scarves, and, among other thing, purses. While I lived in New York I was a frequent buyer of said purses, in constant pursuit ...