Monday, December 7, 2015

Ann Arbor = Accessibility

Two words can describe how my visually-impaired self feels about our upcoming move to Ann Arbor.

Pubic transportation.

No wait. This call for all CAPS.


It is no secret that living in suburban Metro Detroit is incredibly difficult as a non-driver. Detroit's moniker as the Motor City never rang truer or felt more alienating as when I realized my vision loss would prevent me from driving.

I've written about this struggle time and time again and in several ways. While the hassle and challenge of my daily transportation needs are a giant pain in the ass, I am forever thankful for opportunities these have provided. I met my dearest friend because I needed a ride. I've gotten really good at forging friendships, building networks, and asking for help. When Uber expanded to Northern Oakland county, I got a taste of the independence I was missing.

But public transportation. Dude. I am not even sure I can wrap my head around this. Ann Arbor Area Transportation Authority or "AAATA" or "TheRide" is going to change everything. There 3 bus stops within a quarter mile from our new house. The entire city is accessible to me for less than $60 a month.

Total. Game. Changer.

I don't expect this to be an easy transition. It's been almost 5 years since I've been on a bus and I'm still going to need to plan routes, timing, and transfers ahead of time. But within time, I fully expect, both Emy and I, to be as comfortable riding buses as we are calling Uber or my dear "chauffeurs."

Public Transportation. Can you imagine the stories I'll have to share?!

Wednesday, November 18, 2015

Big Changes are a Coming

It seems as if our house is always in a state of fluctuation and change. Perhaps this is the way that most couples feel, but I honestly believe there has never been a time where Josh and I looked at one another, sighed in boredom, and expressed a need to shake things up.  Big, earth-shattering, life-altering changes that come out of nowhere and tilt our world upside-down are kind of our norm.

We've become so accustomed to this periodic upheaval that we barely make an effort to fight the inevitable outcome beyond our control. At least we try not to. And, I dare say that while we may have even reached a place where we can generally roll with just about anything.

What we are not used to is slow, gradual, thought-out deliberate change. Change that is thought out, decided on, pursued, but involves a lot of patience. At least I am not good at this. I shouldn't speak for my husband on this matter, because he is a BIG PICTURE kind of guy, and can see the forest through the trees or whatever, so he doesn't have my tenancies towards feeling anxious and uneasy while we wait for the change to take place.

For the past 7 moths we've been in this ambiguous place between rolling with it and patiently waiting. Josh has been job-hunting and his search led to many possible positions all over the United States. From Texas, to Washington, to North Carolina, to Kentucky, to Minneapolis, it really seemed as if we would be moving out of state. 

The idea of moving to a large city both terrified and excited me. I was ready to embrace whatever adventure came our way, but I am a Michigan native and have never lived more than 30 miles from my parents. Since I was 5 years old I resided outside of Oakland County. I am a home-town girl. The principal that hired me for my first full-time teaching position was my Kindergarten teacher and several of my high-school classmates were either colleagues or parents of my future students. I relish the small-town feel of Rochester and the connections I feel with almost everyone I meet. Forget six-degrees of separation, in Rochester it's more like 2.

So when an opportunity came up for a position in Ann Arbor,  I (somewhat) selfishly encouraged Josh to go for it. I would have gotten behind any job or location that would be the best for our family, but this opportunity felt like a compromise to my homebody self.

But there was SO much WAITING before we heard anything. Although Josh was still working throughout this process, and was focusing on multiple opportunities at a time, the length of time we had to wait between interviews, call-backs, and decisions was agonizing to me.

Shocking to NO ONE - I am not the most patient person in the world. Especially, when I have no control over the change or the outcome.

But finally, at the beginning of October Josh received and accepted a job offer from the City of Ann Arbor! His position as Deputy Manager of Parks & Recreation officially began last week. Fans of the sitcom Parks & Rec will understand my complete delight in explaining that my husband is now the Leslie Knoppe of Ann Arbor! Feel free to congratulate him by sending framed pictures of the Notorious RBG, Hillary or even Amy Poehler to him! Or to me, because I get a bigger kick out of that joke than he does.

So while we are NO WHERE NEAR the end of the changes that our family will be going through this year - house-hunting, relocating to Ann Arbor, switching schools mid-year, dealing with a LONG commute in the meantime, etc.... I do feel as if Josh and I have regained control over the changes that will be occurring. Still difficult, but they shouldn't be as drawn-out and agonizing as the job search was. We are ready to roll with it and are looking forward to embracing life in Ann Arbor.

Monday, November 9, 2015

Picture Day

At first I was super embarrassed and upset I am a recovering perfectionist after all and still have the tenancy to feel very self-conscious and blame things like crooked pigtails on my low vision. But then I remembered the morning of Picture Day; Emy barely able to contain her excitement, not able to stop bouncing around long enough for me to do her hair. So impatient get to school that after the 3rd attempt to straighten the pigtails I deemed them, "good enough" and sent a bouncy, smiling five-year old out the door.

This is our reality and I am happy to have it captured in a photo.

Kindergarten September 2015

Seriously, how adorable is she?

This picture will serve as yet another reminder to myself that I have to let the little shit go. Crooked pigtails happen and sometimes they make the picture SO much better.

Kindergarten is Kicking My Ass

It's hard to believe that Emy has been in kindergarten for two months. On one hand, she has adjusted so well that it seems as if she has been there forever. Riding the bus, staying at school for a full-day, making new friends, getting to know different teachers, handling early bedtimes and even earlier wake-ups, being away from mom and dad - these are all things she has taken in stride - just like the independent, outgoing, adaptable kid she continuously reminds me she is.

Then there is me. I am not sure I'm adjusting quite as well. Being on the parent-side of elementary school is a whole different experience that what my teacher-self is used to. Add an unfamiliar school environment, knowing very few parents whose children attend the school, and that it has been 2 1/2 years since I've been in the classroom, and I am officially out of my comfort zone.

I'm okay with this.
It's not about my level of comfort, it's not about me at all. Emy is ridiculously happy and thriving, so ultimately that is what matters.

But it's hard.
It's hard to watch your kid begin to live a life independent of you. It's hard being regaled to second-place (or face it - WAY LOWER) by your child's teachers. Even though Mom may have a Master's degree in reading, it doesn't mean a damn thing, unless I'm doing exactly like her beloved teacher.
It's hard to enter an elementary school and be reminded how deeply I miss teaching students. Lunches are hard, being on time is hard, homework is hard.

It's just hard.
But like life, there is so much wonderful there too.

My kid LOVES school and EVERY.SINGLE.THING. about it. She wants me to sign her up for after-school care so she can spend more time there. She is making new friends left and right. Friends that great her with hugs and screams of delight when we run into them at Target or a local restaurant. I have time to spend volunteering in the media center and her classroom, assist at school events and parties. I am becoming known as "Emy's mom" which is a title I cherish, even more than "Mrs. Landefeld - teacher."

And every day, I see my bright-eye, bouncy, smiling girl get off the bus, with new stories and experiences to share; reminding me that this is not about me, it all feels a little easier.

Saturday, July 11, 2015

11 Years of Wedded Something Or Other

Today Josh and I celebrate 11 years of marriage. 11 years of wedded bliss - or something perhaps, not so much as blissful, as really hard work.

I danced with joy throughout our whole wedding ceremony, and laughed out loud at jokes Josh was making under his breath when we exchanged vows, and our reception was one of the best parties I've ever attended.

In the last 11 years there have been a lot of dancing, jokes, and laughter. There have also been a lot of tears, arguments, and far more struggles than parties.

But here we are. Still standing by one another, still making each other laugh, still each other's number one fan, still pushing each other to be better versions of the people we were when we met over 15 years ago. Still very much in love.

Happy 11th Anniversary Joshua. Kindred Spirits. Forever & Always My Love.

11 Photos for 11 Years of Wedded Something or Other

What this picture doesn't capture is Josh's annoyance that after 6 weeks of dance lessons I STILL can't follow his lead.
To no one's surprise 11 years later I still struggle with this. 

Our first destination wedding we attended together
Traverse City 2001

Halloween 2001

Puerto Vallerta, Mexico

Oh my goodness - WE WERE SO YOUNG!

Bridal Shower

Thanks for staying on the roller coaster with me. 

Tuesday, May 26, 2015

The Eve Of 5

I've been floating somewhere in between awe and grief for the last week, repeatedly asking myself the question, HOW IS IT POSSIBLE 5 YEARS HAVE GONE BY?
I am torn between celebrating an amazingly, spunky, enthusiastic, spirited daughter and avoiding all the dark feelings and regrettable emotions that her birthday bring to the surface. I want to host parties, full of balloons, decorations, laughter, and cupcakes while simultaneously wanting to drink all the wine and hide until June.

It's been 5 years. I ask myself if her birthday will always be this hard, but after 5 years, I know the answer. Nope. This year is easier than last, as her 4th birthday was easier than her 3rd. The effing cliche is right - Time heals.

But May will always bring memories. Memories I will cherish forever and memories that I long to erase. There are so many moments that are vividly etched into my memory, sights, sounds, smells, that I am certain that only a few days or weeks have gone by. Other moments are fragmented, foggy, comprised only of details I've pieced together from others, that entire weeks and months blur together.
This is how I know I am a mother. All mothers feel this way when their first born turns 5. Even the ones who have perfectly predictable, not-so-terribly traumatic, birth stories.

My struggles with infertility, my child's birth story, my illness, my PTSD/anxiety, my disability, these are all just details. They're important because they have shaped me and changed me inside and out, but they're not what defines me. And they're certainly not what separates me from other parents on the eve of their eldest child's 5th birthday.

Emeline Joy Landefeld -
photo taken May 28, 2010

Thursday, May 14, 2015

I Am...

I was inspired to do some Old School Blogging (OSB) by Angela of Jumping With My Fingers Crossed and Elaine from Miss Elaine-ous Life.

When I taught 3rd and 4th grade we would write I Am poems a lot. Somewhere in a file in my basement are samples I've done throughout the years, but I decided to spend my time writing and creating something new rather than finding our what I Was a few years back. 

So here you go. My version of an I Am poem.

I am open, honest, imperfect, and healing.

I wonder what the next year has in store for my family.

I hear quiet, blessed quiet for the first time all day.

I see piles and piles of clutter that need attention and organizing, but I just don’t have the energy for them.

I want to be healthy and strong.

I am open, honest, imperfect, and healing.

I pretend I see better than I actually do.

I feel deeply and often.

I touch the feathery strands of hair on my sleeping daughter’s head, marveling at her existence.

I worry about transportation. All the damn time.

I cry in yoga, a lot. Especially, in pigeon pose.

I am open, honest, imperfect, and healing.

I understand that life is not fair and some of the best lessons come from unimaginable circumstances.

I say I’m not afraid when I am.

I dream of independent transportation and impromptu road trips.

I try every day to not let my disability define me, especially in the eyes of my daughter.

I hope I am a role-model to Emy and that I am not screwing her up too badly.

I am open, honest, imperfect, and healing.

My heart, my soul, and me. May 2015

That's me. In a nutshell. Open and raw. Who are you? Want to play along? Just copy the bold words and fill in the blank. Visit the blogs of  OSB host Elaine and this month's co-host Angela for more information.

Saturday, April 25, 2015

LTYM 2015 - Part One (Anticipation)

Tomorrow is the day!

In a little less than 24 hours I will be standing on stage at St. Andrews Hall in Detroit sharing a story I wrote, about fear and motherhood as part of the 2015 Metro Detroit cast of Listen To Your Mother. To say I am stoked would be a complete understatement. I am practically buzzing with excitement.

I am so honored to be a part of such an amazing group of local storytellers. I am astonished with the number of Listen to Your Mother shows taking place across the country in the next 2 weeks. I was going to share some insight about what LTYM is and how incredible this movement of storytelling is, but Angela Youngblood, one of our fearless producers here in Detroit, did such an amazing job describing it, I decided not to reinvent (or rewrite, if you will) the wheel! 

Angela Yougblood and her FABULOUS hat!

If you knew me as a teen from the northern suburbs of Metro Detroit, you may know that I spent every opportunity my parents and hard-earned babysitting money allowed attending  shows at St. Andrews and other iconic Detroit venues. There was nothing I enjoyed more than dancing, moshing, and singing along to bands that spoke to my angst-ridden soul. Shows like Rancid, The Suicide Machines, Tori Amos being some of my favorite and most memorable.

Teenage Christy was a lot more outspoken, angrier, and wilder than 35 year old Christy so you may not be surprised that this will not be the first time I've been on stage at St. Andrews. Although it is the first time I was legitimately asked to be there. 

Tomorrow I will stand on the the same stage I once attempted - successfully, I'll add - to stage dive from during a punk-rock show, in the same venue I danced my heart out at, and share my heart and soul with the audience through my story. I hope you are ready to listen. 

Sunday, January 25, 2015

Challenge Complete

Day 7 - The Final Day of The Your Turn Challenge.

I did it! I posted a blog post every day for 7 days. In a row! That is only 1 less post than I posted in the 6 months leading up to this challenge. Now that is what I call success!

I tribute the relative ease I had completing this challenge with how desperately I was ready to be challenged. I was stuck in a massive pile of "UNDONENESS" - writing more frequently, but sharing less. Being a person who relishes feedback and encouragement this wasn't working.  I was stuck in my head, my own vicious is circle of self-doubt. I want to blog. I want my words to be read, my stories to be told, but did I have the drive or the discipline to make that happen?
Yup. Turns out I do.

I don't want this challenge to end. The accountability and support the other participants have provided is tremendous. Being a part of a group of individuals with a shared goal of stretching boundaries and sharing ideas has reaffirmed that community is an essential part of my success.

I am ending this challenge feeling motivated and inspired. The more I write, the more I want to write. I am not sure why this surprises me. When I taught Language Arts to 3rd and 4th graders, parents would frequently ask how to help their child improve in reading or writing. I would share strategies when applicable, but the advice I always gave was to READ and WRITE every single day. Just like any other skill, the more you practice, the better you'll become.

I think it's about time I start taking my own advice.

Saturday, January 24, 2015

Challenges & Surprises

5 days before 2015 began I turned 35. Having my birthday so close to the New Year always provides a double opportunity for me to reflect on the past year and set goals or resolutions for the next. For years past my list of resolutions has been a lengthy hyper-critical list of all my short-comings I wish to improve on.  This year I narrowed it down to one - "Challenge Yourself."

The first challenge I decided to participate in was A 30-Day Yoga Challenge at my local Yoga Shelter. The challenge was simple. Try to commit to spending one hour a day practicing yoga every day for 30 day. Pre-2015 Christy would have used the excuses of not being able to attend classes at the studio daily and my less than ideal conditions for at-home practice to decline participation in the challenge altogether. If there was no way for me to do all 30 days why even try. Thankfully, 2015 Christy realized that committing to attend as many classes as possible and practice as much as possible was enough of a challenge so I signed up. 

I am so glad I did. Today is the 24th day of the challenge and as of this afternoon I have attended 18 classes.  I am surprising myself daily with how quickly my practice is improving, how much stronger I am, and most importantly how proud I am of accepting this challenge and sticking with it.

Even through there are still 6 days left to go in this challenge I can say two things for certain:
1, I will not win for most classes attended in the month of January.
2. I don't care, I succeeded.
Every time I roll out my mat I succeed. I have made the time to do something good for myself. I have done more yoga in the last 24 days than I have done in the past 5 years.

Feeling successful in my yoga challenge allowed me to take on the Your Turn Challenge and what a wonderful surprise that has been.

Here's to 2015 - the year I challenge and surprise myself.

Yoga Shelter Rochester Hills, MI
Day 1 of the 30 Day Challenge 

Friday, January 23, 2015

Getting Unstuck

I am not sure I am highly qualified to offer advice about getting unstuck. Unless you count my numerous experiences with battling feeling stuck as qualifications. If that is the case then, I'm your girl.

When I feel stuck, I feel paralyzed by circumstances out of my control. Full of fear and self-doubt, it often seems easier to give up on whatever task I am working on than it would be to persevere and move forward. Thankfully, my mother blessed me with a stubborn streak that makes it darn near impossible for me to actually cave in and take the easy way out. As a result, I am constantly searching for ways to help me get unstuck and keep trudging along.

After some deliberation I narrowed down the top 3 things that help me the most when I feel stuck.


I am a broken crayon. You are a broken crayon. We are all broken in some way. No longer, shiny and new, fresh from a package we are full of dings and dents, the impressions that life leaves as we live it.
Anyone who has every survived a trauma knows that it can be hard to live in the present and not dwell on the past. So much of who we are as people are defined by our experiences. Yet, the rest of us are defined by our choices. It's taken me a long time, but I accept that my body has failed me time and time again and is littered with the dings and dents of trauma. However, I also relish in my ability to still color. I am still here; still moving and breathing, dreaming and creating. Brokenness is not failure. It is experience. Accepting those experiences as opportunities to grow is a major step in becoming unstuck.


The best people in my life are the people who know when I am stuck and in need of assistance without me having to ask for help. There I times when I need reassurance - that I am making progress effectively. There are times when I need to be called out on my procrastinating and avoidance of the hard stuff. There are times when I need comfort and consoling, a place to let it all out. There are times when I need to be challenged, my competitive side engaged, and pushed as far as possible.
I am so thankful to have people who can differentiate the types of motivation I require and are so willing to provide it with love and without judgement. These relationships are what get me unstuck time and time again.


I search for and find inspiration everywhere. Books, TV,  movies, social media, blogs, music, my family,  friends, strangers, nature; they all inspire me a thousand different ways every single day. The problem is that I severely lack the ability to turn that inspiration into anything productive. So often I get lost in the inspiration, to the point of distraction and I can no longer retrace my steps back to the focus and motivation. In order to combat my extreme distractability I (attempt) to enforce limits. No phone, Internet, or TV until X,Y, and Z are complete. I must do A before I am rewarded by the distraction of B. Limiting distractions through whatever means necessary and allowing myself to focus on completion of tasks goes a long way to prevent me from feeling stuck. It is when I succumb to the distractions that I begin to feel the palatalization of  unaccomplished.

So there you have it - three keys that help me get unstuck. What helps you? Please share your tricks and let's help each other get unstuck as fast as possible.

Thursday, January 22, 2015

Parental Epiphany

There has been too much nagging, snapping, yelling, reprimanding, reminding, sighing, eye-rolling, arguing, negotiating, repeating, and crying around our house lately. Last night after a particularly difficult day with my daughter I was at the end of my rope.

Tears in my eyes, frustration radiating through every bone in my body I was in desperate need of answers. So I did what I assume most moms do when it is too late to phone a friend or relative. I Googled it.

The exact phrase I initially typed in - "how to survive mercury retrograde with children"

Fascinating results. But not exactly what I was looking for.
Thinking about how out of whack Emy has been I was searching for something to blame. The internal debate I was having about what was having more of an impact on her declining mood - Mercury or the Chuck E. Cheese Hangover I was pretty sure she had from our previous days outing, was a lot more entertaining than acknowledging the likely truth. Was it me? 

This morning my friend Loni shared this incredible blog post from the site Coffee & Crumbs by Jennifer Batchelor. Entitled - When Does It Get Easier?  it held EXACTLY the answers I was searching for last night.

"Then she grows up a little more, and you realize that merely keeping her alive isn't enough anymore. You also have to actually parent her. You have to teach her not to hit when she's angry. You have to teach her to be kind to others and share her toys.
And, when this phase happens, it dawns on you. You cannot teach her anything without demonstrating it first. Kids are sponges, and she's soaking you up all day long, every single day. If you want her to be kind, you must be kind. If you want her to be generous, you must be generous. If you want her to control her temper, you must control your temper. Parenting isn't just about shaping her character - it's also about shaping yours." 

I cried.
I cried because I love when the Universe sends me messages via Facebook.
I cried because I needed to hear those words, that minute.
I cried because the truth is hard.

It isn't that Emy's attitude needs adjusting, it's that mine does. I need to do a lot less of my list of bad behavior and a lot more  apologizing, hugging, consoling, reassuring, laughing, waiting, cuddling, and forgiving. Not just for my little girl's sake either. For my own.

Wednesday, January 21, 2015

Questions & Answers

"I don't drive."
"We only have one car."
"I had some health problems when my daughter was born so I took a year off and tried to go back to work part-time."
"We moved to Rochester so I could be closer to my (then) teaching job," 
"I left teaching almost 2 years ago.
"I'm home with my daughter." 

While all of these statements are in essence true, they are also all big fat lies of omission. They're the guarded responses I give to new acquaintances or questioning neighbors when I try and explain my current status of unemployment/stay-at-home mommyhood. They're the statements that I choose to utter when I want to be honest but am not ready to unleash the full story that is my my crazy journey of motherhood and subsequent vision loss.

I've scared the crap out of enough relative strangers to realize that complete honesty isn't always the best policy, Witnessing the wide-eyed, slack jaw, left speechless response to my over-sharing just leaves everyone involved feeling awkward and isn't always called for. I'm not sure my mail carrier will ever recover from the over-detailed explanation of why she always sees me and my daughter home, yet there is never any car in the driveway. To be fair, she did ask.

These conversations always leave me a bit on edge and sometimes deeply embarrassed. I despise being misunderstood or judged. There is a huge part of me that feels if I could explain my story to everyone I interact with then they'd all "get it" and we could move on to either being friends or fellow community members who respect and understand one another. Naive and improbable? Probably, but it is still something I strive for consistently. 

For the past year I've been making a conscious effort to answer questions honestly and candidly but with consideration. Trying to find a balance between the ambiguity of "my vision isn't very good" and the emotional onslaught of "I finally had a baby, almost died, and lost my vision." The truth is somewhere in between.

I'm trying to keep my over-sharing to a minimum, but when it does occur (often) I embrace it, apologize if I made someone feel uncomfortable and move on. Life's to short to dwell on feelings of embarrassment and worry about sharing too much, too soon.

Besides, I've found more often than not, when I do open up freely I encourage others to do the same. By sharing our stories we build connections and are one step closer to "getting it."

Tuesday, January 20, 2015

The Important Things

For the longest time I thought teaching was the most important thing to me. Being an elementary school teacher was more than my career, it was my identity.
I loved my job and I loved my students. I wanted them to succeed and develop a pride of hard work. It was important to me that they feel connected to our classroom and that I was on their side. I wanted them to LOVE learning and develop a reverence for the power of words. I wanted them to understand that we all learn differently and what is best for you may not be what's best for me and that is OK. I wanted them to learn the value of mistakes and the only failure is not learning from a mistake. It was important to me that they learn how to function responsibly in a shared community; that our actions impact others and every choice has a consequence. I wanted them to learn how to respect themselves and others' bodies, property, feelings, work, ideas.

I worked hard at my job to impart these life lessons along with the constant changes of curriculum. I accepted these changes with more optimism than not; taking the new, mixing it with the old, and attempting to deliver it in a variety of ways that would best impact diverse learners.
I was good at teaching. In the 9 years I spent in a classroom I did important work. I know I made an impact on children's lives.
It's been almost 2 years since I left the classroom. Making the decision to leave was the hardest decisions I've ever faced, Doing my job to the high standard I held myself to was no longer possible due to vision-loss that occurred at the birth of daughter in 2010. I could no longer be the teacher who I wanted to be or needed to be, and I came to the realization that "teacher" was not my full identity. It was just one aspect of me - an aspect that had changed dramatically with the additions of "mother" and "disabled" to my life.
Most of the time we have the opportunity to make choices about what is important in our lives. These choices dictate how are lives turn out, but life isn't lived within a bubble. Quite often decisions we've made, plans we've counted on are changed suddenly, without warning and without consent and we have no choice other than to begin to live our lives differently.
I am not the same type of teacher I was 5 years ago. In fact, I am no longer employed as one at all. However, I still teach every day yet I still teach. I teach others as I learn how to embrace transition and transformation, while adapting to new identities. I teach those around me how to live a life that matters, by redefining purpose and finding joy in the unknown. It's not the same, but it is important.

Monday, January 19, 2015

I'm DOING This

Why am I doing the Your Turn Challenge?

I need a swift kick in the butt. Often. I get complacent and go on autopilot and avoid THE DOING as long as possible. Not because I don't want to DO, but because there are usually a million reasons I can think of why THE DOING can't be DONE because it's JUST NOT RIGHT YET. This is the trouble with being a procrastinator with a perfectionist complex.
The result of all this avoiding is that very little ever gets DONE and then all THE UNDONE piles up and threatens to swallow me whole with their overwhelming massiveness of UNDONENESS.

It's messy and anxiety inducing and all the guilt I feel every time I encounter another UNDONE project, blog post, chore, task, want, need has gotten out of control. Enough is enough. I don't want to be surrounded by THE UNDONE any longer. I want to DO the DOING.

The Your Turn Challenge came at a perfect time for me. I am ready for change. Ready to change. Ready to be a DOER who gets things DONE - a WRITER who WRITES. Even when it is not ideal.

The accountability piece of this challenge appeals to me. The social pressure of everyone knowing whether or not I am DOING or allowing it to become another UNDONE is exactly what I need.

The Challenge: A blog post every day for 7 days. Alright, let's DO this. Day 1 is DONE.