Thursday Tally and the Triumph of Two Point Five

Hello, friends. I’m writing to you from my favorite spot at the kitchen table, the sun just starting to dip behind the neighbor’s maples. It’s been one of those Thursdays that felt like a puzzle where every piece eventually found its place, even if I had to nudge a few of them into position. The house is quiet for the moment—Noah is sprawled on the living room rug, his velociraptor pajamas already on because he insists they make him run faster, and Emma is focused intently on a drawing of a stable she’s making for her teacher.

My day started early at Miller’s Hardware. There is something so grounding about that shop. The scent of fresh sawdust always clings to my clothes, a reminder of honest work and sturdy things. Mr. Miller was in a particularly chatty mood today, showing me the new shipment of weather stripping while I balanced the ledgers. It’s a small job, just a few hours twice a week, but seeing those numbers line up gives me a sense of control that I didn’t realize I needed back when I was just staying home full-time. It’s my own little contribution to our foundation, and every deposit I make into our savings for the kids’ futures feels like a victory for 'Lucy the Professional' as much as 'Lucy the Mom.'

I wrapped up at the shop at three and headed home, stopping briefly to wave at Joanne. She was in her usual pink bathrobe, looking somewhat suspicious of a stray dandelion in her petunia bed. We didn’t talk long, but her nod of approval as I pulled into my driveway always makes me feel like I’m doing okay at this whole 'adulting' thing. I didn't have much time before the kids got off the bus, but I knew if I didn't lace up my shoes right then, I wouldn't do it at all.

After my four-mile milestone yesterday, my legs were feeling a bit heavy. I decided to keep it light today with a steady 2.5-mile loop around the neighborhood. The Cedar Falls Harvest 5K is creeping closer on the calendar, and while I’m not trying to break any world records, I am trying to prove something to myself. Every time my sneakers hit the pavement, I’m reminding my body that it is capable, strong, and deserving of care. I’m not just running away from the stress of the day; I’m running toward a version of myself that doesn’t apologize for taking up space.

There was a moment during the second mile where the wind picked up, and I felt that familiar burn in my lungs. Usually, that’s when the old voice in my head starts whispering that I should just walk the rest of the way. But then I thought about the candle orders waiting for me on the counter—three 'Autumn Embers' and two 'Sycamore Sunset' jars that need pouring tonight. My little side hustle, Lucy’s Little Light, has grown so much from just a hobby. Realizing people want something I created with my own hands gives me a boost of self-worth that no scale or mirror could ever provide.

I finished the run just as the school bus turned the corner. I was sweaty and red-faced, but when Emma jumped off the steps and saw me, her face lit up. She told me I looked like a 'real athlete.' It’s funny how kids see us, isn't it? They don't see the insecurities or the messy hair; they just see the person who shows up. That realization helped me carry that sense of pride through the rest of the afternoon as I helped with homework and started a batch of spaghetti for dinner.

Mark just walked through the door a few minutes ago, right on time at 5:20. He looks exhausted—the construction site has been demanding lately—but he still took a second to pull me into a hug that smelled like cedar and outdoor air. He noticed I’d been out running and gave me that little wink that tells me he still sees the girl he married nine years ago, even when I’m covered in a mix of sawdust from the hardware store and sweat from the road. Feeling desirable in the middle of the mundane chaos of mid-thirties life is a gift I don't take for granted.

Tonight, once the kids are tucked in and the kitchen is wiped down, I’m going to spend some time with my robin-egg-blue journal. Megan gave it to me for a reason—to remind me that my thoughts matter. I might even call Mom for a quick check-in before Sunday, just to tell her about the 5K progress. It’s these small connections, the tiny threads of work, family, and personal growth, that weave together to make this life feel so full.

It isn't always glamorous, and most days involve more laundry than breakthroughs, but I am learning to love the process. I’m learning that my value isn’t tied to how much I get done, but to the heart I put into it. Whether I’m balancing Mr. Miller’s books or pouring wax into glass jars, I am building something real. I hope you all found a moment of peace today, even if it was just in the five minutes it took to drink a cup of coffee.

The sun is almost down now, and Biscuit is nudging my hand for his evening treat. It’s time to close the laptop, feed the dog, and enjoy the evening with my family. We are all works in progress, ladies, and that is a beautiful thing to be. Thank you for walking this path with me, one mile and one day at a time.

I love you. — Lucy