accidental existence

Life, one sentence at a time

“…and that’s the way the wheel keeps working now…” April 17, 2018

Filed under: Uncategorized — emletterman @ 10:01 am

I’m addicted to “Call the Midwife.”

It’s April 17.
It’s 4-17 day in 417 land.
Somebody should really organize a festival.
Or at the very least, we should get discount food somewhere.

Starbucks and Philly.
Makes me feel guilty for being white.
Privilege, if you don’t get the fuss, you probably have it.

“One does not establish a dictatorship in order to safeguard a revolution; one makes the revolution in order to establish the dictatorship.”
Make America Great Again.
“Power is in tearing human minds to pieces and putting them together again in new shapes of your own choosing.”
“It’s a beautiful thing, the destruction of words.”
I have the best words.
“Doublethink means the power of holding two contradictory beliefs in one’s mind simultaneously, and accepting both of them.”
Nineteen female accusers. Pillar of Christian values.

Adam has to work every night this week.
I love him for it.
Imma eat salad and clean out the nursery.
I’m addicted to this lemon poppyseed chop salad.
Kale, broccoli, cranberry, dried couscous.

I think I finally decided on an accent wall design.
I was over Pintersted.

DSW isn’t as great as everybody said it would be.

I did a thing Sunday.
I bought a crib.
It’s beautiful.
Trying to contain my excitement.

Before you ask, no, there is no news.

I ate at Chipotle a couple weeks ago.
I ordered guac.
It was extra.
My scoop of “guac” was literally a whole avocado half.
I tweeted a picture.
Chipotle sent me a free burrito coupon.
Behold the power of social media.

I like Dunkin’ black over Starbucks black.

I bought some work pants recently.
They are a size smaller.
That’s four sizes smaller than 2.5 years ago.

I penned a blog during a Weight Watchers meeting last week.
I was so angry, so frustrated, so jealous, so sad.
In that minute, I had to write.
I never posted it.
A friend of a friend knows a girl.
She’s 14.
She had a baby in February.
It was addicted to heroin.
So is she.
She’s also pregnant again.

I’m drinking Dunkin’ right now.

“Gilmore Guys” is my new jam.
By jam I mean spoken-work podcast.

Baby shower timing: How does it work when adopting?

We learned a new law this week.
Baby must remain in the same state as birthmom until paperwork clears the court.
That’s an average seven to 10-day process.
That’s the first seven to 10 days of life with #Letterbaby in a hotel room.
No comfort. No routine. All the others guests hate you.
Helluva thing.

I never thought I’d be the type of person who wore beige flats.
I thought wrong.

MIL spent a week in Kentucky visiting family.
Long story short, we have a lot of bourbon.

I wish I was better at sewing.
I’ve been thinking of taking a class.

Anybody need baked goods?
At the ready.


Me enjoying today’s forecast. #doublechinsforlife





“…sitting in the slow-mo and listening to the daylight…” March 15, 2018

Filed under: Uncategorized — emletterman @ 4:15 pm

It’s been a day.
I dropped some F-bombs.
By some, I mean a lot.
My boss is cool.

A walk through the hospital always helps.
Get some steps.
Take a brain break.

Do your kids play summer baseball through the Park Board?
Be on the lookout for Adam.
He the newest part-time scorekeeper at Killian.
All funds go toward Letterbaby.

ME: Are you sure you can handle a part-time job? You’re so tired already.
HIM: I always said I would do anything I had to do to take care of my family. This is what I need to do.
ME: *swoon*

God, I love this man.

I’ve put feelers out with a lot of local bake shop for part-time work, but no luck.
If Adam’s going to be gone, I may as well work, too.
Double the fun.

It’s 73 degrees outside right now.
I’m sitting at my desk.
Jelly now, happy when its 97 degrees outside this summer.

Worked a volunteer shift at the Plaid Door last weekend.
I got a spring dress for $3.
It’s the little things in life.

The president was in our fair state yesterday.
Online posts were divisive.
As always.
One read: Politics aside, it’s always an honor to meeting a sitting president.
It’s not an honor to meet a man who puts his own opinion of himself above all else.
A man who’s making a mockery of an honorable position.
Another read: Respect the position even if you don’t respect the man.
Respect isn’t demanded, it’s earned.
When he shows that position the respect it deserves, I’ll reciprocate.

I’m not holding my breath.

Another hot barre class tonight.
I think I’m becoming addicted.
It’s a good sweat.

My last blog was very sad.
So sad, many friends reached out with words of support.
It’s appreciated.
I’m fine.
I have my moments.
Writing always helps.

I’ve recently started drinking diet Dr. Pepper.
My whole life, I’ve hated diet pop.
Can’t stand the fake sugar aftertaste.
I dunno what happened.
With diet Dr. Pepper, it’s not so bad anymore.
Plus, they have it on fountain in the cafeteria.

It’s St. Pats weekend.
Work potluck tomorrow.
I’m making orange-currant Irish soda bread tonight.

I bought a new yoga mat.
½ inch thick
Those mats measured in millimeters were killing my knee.
I have a bad knee.
Fell on a concrete floor as a cub reporter.
Yes, Adam, I know I should have told HR.
My new mat is bulky.
It’s like I’m a kindergartener going to nap time.
The other ladies are gonna look at me funny.

We’re having grilled cheese and soup for dinner.
I’m thrilled about it.
I have special soup and sandwhich plates.
They are adorable.
I don’t use them enough.

I’ve recently started listening to podcasts.
I can edit while other people talk, but it’s hard to write.
Today was an episode of My Favorite Murderer, Gilmore Guys and two Modern Loves.
I like it.
Then back to Pandora.

Tomorrow is Friday.

Irish pug is Irish.





“…half of my heart takes time…” February 28, 2018

Filed under: Uncategorized — emletterman @ 5:07 pm

“I know the wait is hard.”

That’s how every email ends.
Every rejection.
Every time we’re passed by.

It’s the understatement of a lifetime.

The adoption agency sends a report each month.
“We’ve matched one family this month and are working with another birthmother.”
They keep it vague.
But it still hurts.

Why did the birthmother select that family?
What did they say that we didn’t?
What’s wrong with us?

Today wasn’t a good day.
Because last night, we received and email about a birthmother right here in Springfield(!!).
She fit our criteria and we fit hers.
She was set to view family profiles at 9 a.m. today.
I couldn’t sleep.
I couldn’t think about anything else during my morning meeting onslaught.
I called Adam at lunch and he talked me off the ledge.
At 2:30, we got the email.
She picked someone else.

“She knew immediately when she saw their profile.”

It was a knife to the heart.

I had let myself hope.
And it was once again dashed.

Why them?

It’s a simple question prospective adoptive parents struggle with.
All the counseling and all the social workers will tell you: You be you.
That’s all you can do.
When it’s right, it’s right.

It’s hard to remember that when you’re waiting.

It’s hard when I walk by the empty nursery.
It’s hard when I see my friend’s babies.
It’s hard when I think about upcoming holidays.

It’s just hard.

Every adoptive parent I know says the wait is dark.
Somedays, it’s so dark you can’t see.
But holdout for the light they say, it’s worth it.

As I sit here, the pitch black has a hold on me.
The only speck of light left the room the moment I read that email.
I am a void.

It’s not the wait that will kill you, it’s the hope.




“…here I stand 6 feet small, romanticizing years ago… December 31, 2017

Filed under: Uncategorized — emletterman @ 7:13 pm

It’s been a helluva a year for my little family.
The highest of highs and the lowest of lows.

A flip of the calendar.
A chance for something new.
Is 11:59 p.m. Dec. 31 that much different than midnight Jan. 1?

And no.
It’s fresh.

Will forever be the year we lost a daughter, a sister and a mother.
It was unexpected.
It hurt like hell.
You never forget making that decision.
Knowing it was for the best.
Knowing she was already gone.
Knowing in your heart, but feeling that heart break at the same time.

My identity changed forever.
I was a journalist for more than a decade.
I am no longer.
It was literally the hardest decision I’ve ever made.
I loved being a journalist.
It was all I ever wanted to be.
It was who I was.
Who I am.
But I wasn’t happy.
I hadn’t been for a long time.
No matter who I told, nobody seemed to care.
That hurt the most.

So I left.
And damn am I glad I did.

The year of #Letterbaby.
We began the journey this spring.
So much paperwork.
And hope.
We’re still on the waitlist.
There is still hope.

I baked more things than I ever knew were possible.
The generosity of our friends and family has been overwhelming.
I continue to be amazed everyday at what people are willing to do for us.
My heart is full.

I made new friends.
Reconnected with old ones.
And lost a long-time friend I never thought possible.
We welcomed two new little guys to the fold.
Memories were made.
Love was shared.

It will be a year I never forget.
A lot can happy in 365 days.
Lives can change forever.
For the good.
For the bad.
For the unexpected.
For the moments in between.

Hello, 2018.
I may be asking too much of you, but dreams never did know boundaries.
I’ll hope for the good.
Dream of the best.
And brace myself for the unexpected bumps.

Please, 2018
Be nice to us.



BELOW THE FOLD: Taking a stand for #TakeAKnee September 29, 2017

Filed under: Uncategorized — emletterman @ 5:33 pm

I no longer buy ink by the barrel.
But you better believe I still have opinions on things.
As part of my decade in journalism, I wrote a monthly opinion column.
Topics ranged from my pug to maternity leave.
It was one of my favorite parts of the job.

While I’m no longer a working journalist, I’m still a writer.
And writers have to write.

Until now, this blog has been dedicated to my random daily musings.
Dog sweaters, IT guys and what’s for dinner.
Today, it becomes just a bit more.

I’m going to continue writing my monthly column: Below the Fold.
I’ll share it in this space.
Read it, skip it, ignore it – it’s your choice.

I want to write it.

I was inspired.

Here’s the first installment.

If you don’t support #TakeAKnee, you’re wrong.
It’s just that simple.
I’ve heard the arguments for respect and for keeping politics out of the workplace, for honoring  our soldiers and for patriotism. Those sound like valid reasons. They make great sound bites and nice memes to share on Facebook.
But if you actually put brain to thought and think about them, they’re shit.
They make no sense for once simple reason: The Constitution of the United States of America.
People have the right to protest.
Let me say that again so it can sink in: People have the constitutional right to protest.
That means they can protest anything they want, anytime they want, anywhere they want – shocker – even if you don’t like it.
Even if you call them “sons of a bitches.”
The founding fathers believed in that right so much, they wrote it into the very document that makes us who we are as a nation.
Unlike the walking bigot we have in office now, I think fictional President Andrew Shepherd once said it best:
“America isn’t easy. America is advanced citizenship. You’ve gotta want it bad, ‘cause it’s gonna put up a fight. It’s gonna say, ‘You want free speech? Let’s see you acknowledge a man whose words make your blood boil, who’s standing center stage and advocating at the top of his lungs that which you would spend a lifetime opposing at the top of yours.’ You want to claim this land as the land of the free? Then the symbol of your country cannot just be a flag. The symbol also has to be one of its citizens exercising his right to burn that flag in protest. Now, show me that, defend that, celebrate that in your classrooms. Then you can stand up and sing about the land of the free.”
Our country wasn’t built on a flag. Millions have not lost their lives for a flag. Patriotism isn’t just the stars and stripes – it’s what that flag stands for.
Kneeling before a flag should be equally as honored as waving one in celebration for they are two sides of the same coin.
This isn’t a right vs. left debate. This isn’t about snowflakes or gun-toting patriots. Black vs. white. It’s not about you, it’s not about Colin Kapernick, it’s not about me.
This is about the United States of America.
And the most American thing you can do is protest– just ask King George III.





“…it’s hard to beat the system when we’re standing at a distance…” September 25, 2017

Filed under: Uncategorized — emletterman @ 11:10 am

It seems the more life changes the more it stays the same.

No update on Letterbaby yet.
Still, we wait.

I am drowning in #bakingforababy orders this week.
A good problem to have.
I increased the price to $30.
I feel bad about that.
But I was having to buy so many supplies for specialty things, it wasn’t worth it.
“Worth it” is relative.
If I bake a cake, it takes me three hours and I make $5 total for the fund, is it worth it?
Yes, I did make $5.
But we will get no where fast at that rate.

I feel bad asking our friends and family for money.
More money.
Baking is a way I can give them something in return.
It’s still not my favorite.
I’m a shitty salesman.

Team Baking for a Baby will have a booth at an upcoming Junior League event.
I’ve been overwhelmed by the generosity of people willing to donate to the booth.
It’s going to be a furious few days of baking leading up to it.

I’m nervous though.

What if I bake all these things to sell and nobody buys them?
Then I’ve taken money from Letterbaby.
The exact opposite of my goal.
There’s a balance there I’m sure.
I just can’t see it yet.

Starting my fifth week at the new gig.

It’s cold in my office today.
That’s a problem I’ve never had.
Always hot.
I have a desk fan.
Walked down to the second floor healing garden for some sun exposure.

Adam hasn’t assembled our Billy the bookcase yet.
The nursery is in chaos.

As is this process.

Not outwardly, but there are so many variables.
I have this bad feeling in the pit of my stomach.
Nobody will ever pick us.

We will wait forever.
We will wait until it’s too late.

Baking for a Baby refunds?

Today is Monday.
It feels like it should be raining.
It’s not.

I’m trying to drink my water this week.
My weight loss has stalled.
I’ve plateaued as they say.
Roller coaster of ups and downs for two months.
Makes me angry.
I was advised to drink my water.

I’m 32 ounces in and I already hate life.
The bathroom is too far away for this.

Saw Kingsman this weekend.
Not as good as the first, but better than most sequels.

Food at Alamo Drafthouse is too expensive.
One adult milkshake, a lemonade and some gummy bears.
$20 gone.

I’d like to eat at Lambert’s soon.
Hot rolls are life.

Adam has tennis tonight.
I’m on the find something to eat on the way home train.

I think I’m gonna do the Turkey Trot this year.

My Apple Watch won’t sync to my new work Wellness portal.
Mac and Windows don’t play well together.
Which means I don’t get my daily point.
My daily $1.
They said they created a workaround.
But it doesn’t work.
For anybody in my office.
But they keep telling us it does.
I’ve yet to meet anybody it works for.
Lots of people use Apple Watch.
Just sayin.
Why can’t we all just be friends?

I brought another lamp to my office.
Very moody in here.
Fits today.

Lots of meetings on tap this week.
Two field trips.

I’m tired of waiting.

Don’t mind me, I’ll just be right here.


“I’m an architect of days that haven’t happened yet…” September 12, 2017

Filed under: Uncategorized — emletterman @ 6:34 pm

Man oh man, has my world changed.
I’m no longer a journalist.
In fact, in the last three weeks, I haven’t written anything longer than a couple sentences.
It’s weird.
A good weird.

The new gig is pretty fab.
It’s not the work, it’s the environment.
It’s the deadline schedule.
It’s the workload.
It’s the stress.
The little things that become big things.
The big things become boulders to overcome.
The struggle gets old.
I was tired.

I feel refreshed.

I thought I’d miss it more than I do.

Corporate life.
There’s a new experience.
I went from a staff of 18 to a company of 11,000+.
There is a form for everything.
There’s also a cafeteria.
It’s a 1/2 mile from my office.
I clocked it on the Apple Watch.

I miss working downtown.
I would have liked to see the 9/11 ceremony yesterday.

It takes 25 minutes to drive to work now.
I can actually hear a full NPR story.

It’s becoming fall.
A lady in my office wore booties today.
First pair I’ve seen at work this season.

I wear a lot more dresses these days.
Journalist chique is no longer a thing.
I’m kind of OK with that.
It feels more adult.
This whole job feels more adult.
I don’t know why.

I have my own office.
First time ever.
It’s fantastic.
And quiet.
I need a lamp.
IKEA run this weekend.

I never thought I’d have an office.
I’m not the office type.
I’m the pit type.
I like to be around people.
I like to talk.
Geoff gets way more text messages from me now.

No update on #Letterbaby.
Still, we wait.

I’ve started working on a nursery.
Even though they told us not to.
How could I not?
I mean, really.
It’s a slow process, but that’s OK, I have a lot of time.

People keep asking me what the theme is.
There is no theme.
There is a color scheme.
Why do all nurseries have to have a theme?
Why must everything be covered in bears or owls or giraffes?
Why can’t it just be modern and adorable?
That’s what I’m striving for.
See the rest of my house.
Nothing in the room will match, yet somehow, it will all go together.

FB ads are targeting me.
I think I need an Owlet now.
Wayfair sends me daily crib updates.

I’m addicted to Hello Fresh boxes.

Headed to KC this weekend for the baby shower of Elliott Greer.
I made his mama something special.

I’m ready for fall festivals.

I just picked up supplies.
I’m #bakingforababy one $25 donation at a time.
One the docket: a batch of chocolate chip cookies, gingerbread cookies and three (!) dozen pumpkin cream cheese muffins.
Want me to bake something for you?
Because I totally will.
And it will be delicious.

Adam is playing in his pinball league tonight.

The winds of change are blowing.
For once in my life, I’ve embraced them.
It’s made all the difference.


Office pug knows what’s what.