How old is too old for the egg hunt?

I have a confession. I am 29 years old and still participate in our annual Family Easter Egg Hunt. The tradition began as young kids at my Aunt’s house and we never quite grew out of it. My sister and I are the oldest of 15 cousins. She just had a baby boy and I have a little bean of my own on the way. Until those babies are old enough to hunt, I still think of us as the “kids”. We decorate paper bags with our names and silly Easter drawings while all of the “adults” hide the eggs. They finally let us out like wild geese and our uber competitive nature takes over – especially now that lottery tickets and some light cash is at stake in those bright colored round treasures. We all walk away feeling satisfied (some of us more than others) and it’s a great ending to the day. Maybe I’ll just stay a kid forever.

Happy Easter and Happy Spring.

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New City, Old Me

I’m used to having someone by my side now. I enjoy the comfort of an arm to hold, someone to share things with and tell my weirdest thoughts to. Especially when that someone is my husband who I am my total and complete self around.

The 24-year-old Jenna who lived alone in another country had no such comforts. She lugged five grocery bags from the market to her studio apartment 15 minutes away every week. [I wonder if that will be my ‘I walked 5 miles in the snow up hill to school everyday’ story.] She took the city by foot, train and bus, empowering herself with strength and independence every moment along the way.  She found comfort in being alone and that became the norm.

At first it felt strange and lonely to have the week to myself in a new city;  exploring with a loosely mapped out plan of attack each day. But as I walked around the city of Portland on my solo mission, I was reminded of the freedom. I turned any corner I wanted without saying “let’s go left” or “what’s there to our right”. I walked with ease and to the beat of my intuition. I popped into the baby store just to look around. I quickly ducked into a café for a cup of tea when it started to rain. I talked to myself and had subconscious reflections on my life. I soaked up the interesting shops, random street art and eclectic people roaming the sidewalks.

If given the option, I would choose to explore with my husband every time and share in those experiences with him.  But this little week on my own was a sweet reminder of the independence and boldness I still carry with me.

What a refreshing reminder.

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