Drowning My Sorrows in a Green Smoothie

I checked email moments before I pushed the ignition button on my car. An email* I had been waiting for arrived in my inbox. I clicked on it. The message was not one I had hoped for; the words stung my eyes. It took me a couple of minutes to regain my composure before I could drive away. (Thankfully, the eight-year-old in the backseat extended me some grace when I told her I needed to make a phone call rather than turning on Kidz Bop.)

How do you take away the sting of bad news?

When I walked through the door around 5 p.m., I was greeted by a little boy who yelled “Hi, Mommy!” when I walked through the door.

“May I have a hug?” I said doing my best to hold back tears.

Ari wrapped his chubby arms around me and pulled me in. That should’ve been enough, but it wasn’t. Once Ari released me from his embrace, I removed my shoes, grabbed the bottom of the blender, and headed for the fridge. I poured ten ounces of water into the blender cup. Then, I opened the refrigerator door and grabbed the baby spinach. (Click here for the Blueberry Apple Cider Smoothie recipe I made.)

“I wanna smoothie!” Ari said.

“You’ll share it with me,” I told him. (He loves green smoothies as much as I do.)

After Ari helped make the smoothie, he helped me drink it. However, he soon became interested in what Isabelle was doing so he toddled off to play with her. That’s when I realized I was left with a green smoothie and a healthy dose of disappointment.

*= My apologies for being vague. While I share quite a bit about my life, not everything feels comfortable to put out in the world. Before your mind runs wild, the email in question doesn’t have anything to do with work or my kids’ health.

23 thoughts on “Drowning My Sorrows in a Green Smoothie

  1. I love it that your “go to drink” in times of trouble, is a green smoothie. Mine is Sparkling Water. I hope a smoothie, some tender little hugs, and sleep give you a bit of peace.

  2. This is one real slice. I know I’ve been there and the disappointment just sits like a rock inside and the presence of little ones can make it a wee bit better, just enough so we can move on to that smoothie! Thanks for sharing!

  3. Stacey, I have no doubt that you received this news with strength and grace. Drowning your sorrows in a green smoothie that you shared with your son is an act that builds resilience (caring for yourself and connecting with your child). Take care. – Krista

    1. Thanks for saying that, Krista. I wanted to turn to chocolate, but I swore it off this week. Making a healthy choice was a good way not to let the unfortunate news rule me.

  4. While I’m sorry to hear about your disappointment, what a great model you are for your kids. You made a healthy choice, you talked about it with your daughter, and even blogged a little bit about it. All such great coping skills that you will surely pass on to them. I hope tomorrow’s a better day! 🙂

  5. First, a comment about being vague: We should not share everything. Being vague allows the disappointment to take center stage, and aren’t we all able to relate to that emotion. I’m a cryer, so your words evoke my own sense of disappointment manifested in tears.

    1. I’ve never been a fan of “vaguebooking” on Facebook. However, yesterday was the kind of day that I would’ve preferred not to write about publicly. I was so upset that I couldn’t muster writing about anything else. Yet, I choose to be vague. It was a way to find a happy medium: meeting the challenge while not oversharing.

  6. I love the way you gave yourself permission to be vague. It is important to let ourselves live in that as needed. I hope tomorrow’s filled with a healthy dose of happiness and satisfaction.

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