Maui Encounters, Medical Emergencies, Mini Eggs

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This week’s post is brought to you by the letters M and E! I could say every post is brought to you by ME, I suppose, but let’s separate the letters this week. In addition to the title, I could also add in Massively Exhausted. Whew, I don’t think I’ve fully recovered from the red-eye flight, the time zone change, and the incredible amount of work I’ve been doing since returning. I’m in a massive decluttering and organization project, which I’ll discuss in detail later – hold onto your hats – and it’s physically and mentally draining.

Something that happens to me now that never happened in my pre-perimenopausal life is that I can tell with one hundred percent accuracy when my period will start, and it’s not just that I have existential angst, a descent into non-specific sadness, and sleeplessness. That happens, but for the purposes of this story, I will tell you about the one other symptom that is a neon sign that Nicole Is Getting Her Period: my breasts. Suddenly, my breasts go from resembling the stocking that Laura Ingalls set out for Santa Claus that contains a single orange and a penny in the bottom to over-inflated water balloons. Va-va-va-voom! I would appreciate this brief foray into bustiness a lot more if it was not accompanied by agonizing pain that makes me want to bind my breasts like a medieval upper-class new mother who has just handed her infant off to the nearest wet-nurse.

It just so happened that this Playboy-centerfoldness occurred on one of our last days in Maui and although I know better, I really do, I donned a bikini that, while absolutely adorable, was maybe not as supportive as others. I did notice that I was a bit more cleavage-y than earlier in the vacation when I had worn this specific bikini, but yolo. I soldiered on to the beach. My mistake was soon revealed in a literal sense; it was just fine when I was swimming or bobbing around in the waves, but when I hopped on the boogie board and caught a wave, I ended up flashing the entire beach as my breasts popped right out. Right out. The bikini top was completely BELOW my breasts and I scrambled to pull it back up, while not letting the boogie board float out to sea as the waves pulled back. It was no mean feat, let me tell you. Fortunately, my sons were behind me in the waves, and so were not psychologically scarred, at least as far as their mother’s public semi-nudity is concerned.

I decided to call it a day at that point, and headed to our little umbrella-and-beach chair set-up, letting the guys play in the water while I read a bit. I was soon approached by a young man, at least twenty-five years my junior, who was holding an M&M tube, the kind that contain mini-M&Ms and are found in Christmas stockings everywhere, except for Laura Ingalls’. He held up the tube with a huge silly smile and asked if I wanted to see something cool. Awww, I thought. This maybe-slow young man wants to show me something. I gave him a big, encouraging smile, and said sure. He opened it up and I peered inside. What…was it? Was that a little crab leg? Or legs? Dead bugs? It was hard to see – I was under the umbrella and I had sunglasses on, and the sun was at this fellow’s back.

“What is it?” I finally asked, after an uncomfortably long pause. “Weed!” the young man said with enthusiasm. “Do you want to buy some?” At this, I burst into laughter. “Oh, HONEY,” I said. “Honey, no. No thank you, dear.” It was like I was ninety years old and someone asked me to go skydiving, or to have some backdoor action in a public washroom with a stranger. He looked a little started at my laughing and asked if there was anyone I knew who might want his presumably M&M-scented weed? I shook my head and said “No, sweetie, I don’t.” He looked perplexed at both my cluelessness and my laughter, and set off, presumably to try to sell to someone who didn’t seem like his own mother. Or grandmother. I was gratified that he thought I was so hip, even though my “honey, no” would indicate that I am not.

I haven’t smoked weed for well over thirty years, but I do, on occasion, use over-the-counter sleep aids. I decided to take some Gravol for our overnight flight; generally I am a person who can sleep in transit, but I thought I should take something to help me get more than a couple of hours. According to my watch, I did sleep five out of six hours on the flight, and the hour that I didn’t was fairly interesting, if somewhat worrisome.

I had completely passed out as soon as we were in the air, and I blearily awakened to some jostling, anxious voices, and the caution to “stay in your seat.” I opened my gritty-feeling eyes to see several flight attendants in various stages of distress, right at my seat. The woman directly behind me was having a medical emergency; she had been treated for a sinus infection while on vacation, and suddenly was having severe shooting pain in her eye, as well as feverishness and nausea. Fortunately, the man across the aisle from her was a nurse – and was coming back from his honeymoon! – and he was able to assist the flight attendant with the emergency medical care she was administering. The flight attendant was on a phone call with a hospital for more instruction, and at that moment I thought to look at the digital flight map. We were directly in the middle of the Pacific Ocean, an hour and a half from Maui and four and a half hours from land, so there would be nowhere to turn around or to land. Perhaps it was because it was the middle of the night, perhaps it was due to my aforementioned Lady’s Holidays, but my thoughts started to go dark. What happens if someone is having an emergency and there is nowhere to land? What happens if someone dies on a flight? What do they do with the body? They couldn’t possibly just leave the dead body in the seat, but what? Is there someplace to put a body? Things are pretty tight on a full plane. Would the body be put where the flight attendants sit for takeoff and landing? Then what of the flight attendants? These unsettling thoughts kept pinging into my brain until the woman was given an antiemetic, put on oxygen – the tank was under my seat – and the flight attendant said she’d check back every ten minutes, which indicated to me she was stabilized somewhat. Relieved, I drifted back to sleep, waking only a couple more times to peek over the seat to make sure she was okay, before we landed.

With five hours of unsettled sleep and a time difference of four hours, I was pretty disoriented when we got home to our clean but food-less house. Does grocery shopping ever end? Of course not. Since we were in a condo in Maui, we ate a lot of meals there, which meant grocery shopping in Maui, too. Which is fine, but what I am saying is that I wasn’t super excited to immediately set out for the grocery store while the rest of the family napped at 9:00 am. However, I did want food and I had to pick up Rex in the afternoon, so off I went.

The very first thing I saw in the store were the one-kilogram bags of Cadbury Mini-Eggs, and they were on sale for $5 off. I have an actual mini-egg preference, and that preference is Cadbury, so I immediately picked up a bag and dropped it into my cart. Dropped it. Into my cart. As soon as the bag made contact with my cart, it exploded, and a kilogram’s worth of mini-eggs scattered all over the aisle and into the produce section. I stood there, frozen, as mini-eggs cascaded from my cart, rolling and bouncing in all directions. After about five long seconds, I looked around to see a produce clerk coming my way. “I’m so sorry,” I said, still staring at the rolling eggs that were now surrounding other people and their carts. I followed the apology by surpassing the world record in banal statements: “The bag, I think the bag, I think it has a hole in it?” The clerk assured me that it would be taken care of and not to worry. I picked up another bag and very slowly, very carefully, placed it in my cart.

Weekly Reading

I read so much on my vacation that I am going to make a separate post about all the books I read; the excellent, the pretty good, and the really bad. Do you rate the books you read? I do, but privately. I give a rating out of five on the spreadsheet on which I track my books, and it’s extremely subjective based on how much I loved the writing and how it made me feel. I don’t get too mired in the details, but a five would be a book I absolutely loved, and a two would be a book I hated but still was able to read. I am realizing now we all have very different methods of rating. I was talking to a friend about this, because I was surprised to see her rate a few books I really liked as threes. A three, to me, is meh; a book that is fine, but that I would never re-read. To her a three was pretty good, a maybe re-read, and a five would be a book of the quality of Maya Angelou or James Baldwin. I found that so interesting! I am not at all stingy with my fives; if I loved it, it’s getting a five. If I loved it but had some small quibbles, I will give it a four.

In any case, I read one non-vacation book this week:

In Every Mirror She’s Black. This book follows three Black women who all come to Sweden because of one powerful Swedish man: one through employment, one because of romance, and one as a refugee. Their lives intersect but are very separate. The ending is pretty intense, and I would say this book had its ups and downs for me. I didn’t love it but I liked it well enough.

More books to come, but in the meantime, I must get on with my week! I hope you all had a lovely Easter weekend. xo

Nicole’s Favourite Things: The Here Today, Gone To Maui Edition

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Aloha! I’m back from my digital detox which, as it happens, I took on Maui!

What a fabulous trip. We have been to Maui several times, the last one being in 2016, and it was interesting to see that it has changed very little from that time. The two main changes I noticed were that every single restaurant or eatery had a sign saying that they were short staffed – and there were many radio commercials about hiring opportunities all over the island – and that since October of last year, only mineral, rather than chemical, sunscreen is allowed on Maui. This is wonderful news for the coral reefs, of course, but also? I hope someone soon comes up with a mineral sunscreen that doesn’t feel like those neon zinc sticks that you would see on the noses of Australian lifeguards in the 80s. Mineral sunscreen, with its white streakiness and heavy feel, is not my favourite, but I love the fish and turtles and other ocean creatures, so I’m happy to comply.

Honestly, the whole trip was my Favourite Thing; it was our first big family trip since before the pandemic, and in my mind there is the possibility that this could be our last big family trip, at least for a while. My yoga ladies, discussing this with me, pointed out that as long as you’ll pay, they’ll go, which I’m sure is true, but timing and life might get in the way. In any case, it was a wonderful trip – definitely our last big spring break trip – with lots of great family time, sunshine, and ocean. What more could I ask for?

The re-entry to Regular Life has been a bit rough; we flew in on the red-eye, getting in at 7:00 am on Tuesday, in addition to being exhausted it’s been a scramble getting groceries, picking up Rex, getting organized with life, and remembering how to dress for below zero temperatures. Also, I currently have, according to my blog reader, 158 unread posts, so I have some catching up to do. In the meantime, I have to mention a few of my specific Favourite Things from paradise.

Nicole’s Favourite Things: The Here Today, Gone To Maui Edition

Fruit Is Nature’s Candy

Probably ten or fifteen years ago, there was a trend called the 100 Mile Diet, meaning that a person should strive to eat food that was produced within 100 miles of wherever they currently reside, mostly for environmental reasons. Well. As a person who lives in Calgary, if I did this then during the winter I would be Laura Ingalls in the Long Winter, eating nothing but bread and a single potato each day, and maybe, for excitement, some old cabbage. I have many, many issues with this kind of smug and judgy diet, which inevitably is created by someone living in California or some other gorgeous climate with lots of year-round produce. One such issue is that it has been proven that greenhouse-grown produce in cold climates use much more non-renewable resources than do trucked-in produce, so fuck you, 100 Mile Diet. However! When I am in a place like Maui, I feel like I COULD happily partake in such a diet because OMG THE FRUIT. The fruit! It’s all so good, being so close to the source. A pineapple that has travelled from afar in the winter just does not taste the same as those island-ripened prickly queens, and so I enjoyed delicious fruit each morning with my coffee, watching the sky brighten in the early hours.

Things Are Getting Skechy

In my youth I would sacrifice comfort for fashion, when it came to footwear, but I have no time for that now. Life is too short and too fun to wear uncomfortable shoes, but also, I want my comfy footwear to be cute too. I love Skechers; they consistently fit me well and I like how they look.

Every morning on Maui I would go on long walks, breathing in the ocean air and appreciating the palm trees and flowers everywhere. We stayed in South Kihei, which is a really active-in-the-morning place – EVERYONE is walking or running – so it’s pretty fun for people watching, as well as nature enjoying. I saw many yoga classes on the grounds of the fancy Wailea hotels, and thought hey, I could totally teach that. I would see couples taking photos of each other and I’d offer to take one of the two of them. One morning – at 8:30 on a Monday – I saw a wedding on the beach. I love my daily constitutionals – to borrow a term from my afore-mentioned ladies – and taking them alongside the ocean was just incredible.

In addition to these comfortable and cute walking shoes, I took these Skechers slide-on sandals for the beach and pool. Look at the sparkles!

Speaking of sandals, I also brought a pair of Skechers that were more appropriate for walking when I didn’t want the bulk of an actual shoe. They are so cushiony and strappy at the same time; I wore them when we went out for meals, and for our shopping trip to Lahaina, where I found a HAWAIIAN CHRISTMAS STORE at which I purchased two personalized ornaments, and then the shopkeeper actually said Mele Kalikimaka to me, and my life is now complete.

What, you can’t see the sandals? Yes, well. I thought I had a photo of them, but it turns out the only ones with my feet in them were group photos, so I did a little cropping. As an aside, that dress is a workhorse. I bought it in 2012, it’s from Prana, a yoga-wear brand which may be defunct, and it has a shelf bra. We all know how I feel about a shelf bra. Anyway, here are the sandals, tiny though this photo may be.

A long while ago, Suzanne (HI SUZANNE) posted about things she wished she liked; my comment to that was that while there are a lot of things I dislike, there isn’t anything that I WISH I liked. I am taking this opportunity to amend that comment. Flip flops. Flip flops are so cute, they are everywhere, and oh my god, the thought of having something between my toes makes those toes curl up and I start doing involuntary Kegels. I just cannot do it. I have been like this my whole life; putting flip flops on me is like putting boots on Rex. It is an unnatural thing and we cannot walk or even move under those conditions. I even have to do deep ujjayi breathing when I’m getting a pedicure and the esthetician puts toe separators on to do my polish.

You Can Leave Your Hat On

Even the heavy-duty sunscreen is no match for Maui sunshine, and so I wore a hat on my walks and while reading outside. This is not just for vanity reasons – I don’t want to look like an apple doll – but also for melanoma-prevention reasons. I wore this cute sporty hat from lululemon on my walks:

I also brought this ADORABLE, foldable hat that I bought on a whim from amazon, which ended up being the perfect travel hat. It has a wire brim which is easily reshaped after being mushed in a suitcase or beach bag. It also has a chin strap to keep it from flying off on windy days, of which we had few.

Hair Baby, There Mama

I didn’t have my hat on all the time, though! The boys taught me to body surf and boogie board, and you guys, it is SO fun. My husband said the whole time, I was laughing and smiling, especially when a big wave would carry me far up the beach.

It’s a family photo! Can you see?

Anyway, all that salt water and sun could have wreaked havoc on my hair, but it didn’t, because I used this:

I love Bumble and Bumble products generally, but this is beyond amazing. I think it really helped with sun damage – after twelve days of sun and salt water, my hair does not look like orange straw, which is a victory in itself. It’s pretty pricey, even for this tiny bottle, but the big Sephora sale starts next week, so I think I’m going to buy more in the larger size. We travelled only with carryon luggage – I will NEVER again check luggage, mark my words, the freedom of walking off the plane and not waiting for or worrying about luggage is glorious – and so this little trial bottle was worth the per-milliliter expense.

Outfit of the Month

I love getting dressed in warm climates. It’s SO easy. Maui is such a casual place that you can wear a swimsuit and cover-up to the grocery store and no one bats an eye. This is my favourite cover-up, it’s a cute little dress with pockets!

A word about swimsuits: up until about eight years ago, I was a big fan of the tiny bikini. It was around the time I turned forty that I realized that string bikinis were no longer suitable for a couple of reasons: a) my breasts resemble droopy water balloons that have sprung a leak, and b) the boys were at an age where I was no longer comfortable around them or their friends whilst in a state of extreme scanty-cladness. As well, I have enjoyed water sports with them as they have gotten older and more active, and let me tell you, a small bikini is a recipe for wardrobe malfunctions. I am still a two-piece suit fan for using-the-washroom purposes, but my bikinis have a lot more coverage and support. This is my new favourite:

Of the four bikinis I packed, I was surprised that this single-strapped one ended up being the best for boogie boarding and body surfing. It must be noted that my younger son looked at me strangely and said “Mom, are you wearing a BELT to the beach?” Yes, it does indeed have a belt attached, which feels silly but looks kind of cute.

I feel so fortunate that, after three years of cancellations and disappointments and general angst, we were able to take this trip. There are a lot of big changes coming to the Boyhouse, and this trip was what I needed to centre myself, to be present, and to really appreciate my family and my life. How lucky. xo

Nicole Recommends

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Toes and Tummy in the YYC

It has been very Empty Nest-ish around here lately; my older son has been working a lot, happily, and in his spare time he’s either at the gym or cultivating a social life. My younger son spent the weekend out of town with his wrestling team, and so my husband and I found ourselves together, just the two of us, for several dinners.

Why not a Date Night, I thought? I had gone to Jameson’s, a local pub for lunch with a group of girlfriends, known collectively among ourselves as The Brentwood Babes, the week prior and we had such a good experience; excellent service, but more than that, I had the Santorini salad. This salad has everything I have ever wanted in bowl form. I had never thought of putting hummus in a salad before, but now I can’t stop thinking about it. It looked like Friday night it would be just the two of us, which seemed perfect for a date.

Thursday morning it occurred to me that it might be difficult to get a table: Friday night, Irish pub, SAINT PATRICK’S DAY. Hmm. I stopped by after my class to naively see if there was any way to reserve a table, explaining to the bartender that my husband and I wanted to come for dinner. As I was speaking, the bartender was shaking his head, and when I finished he said, “No. You really don’t want to come here. It is going to be a complete shitshow.” Okay! We came the following night instead, with our older son – who is of age – in tow. I asked the sweet young girl who was serving us if she worked the previous night, and she said she had, and that it wasn’t that bad, with only one big fight right at the end of the night. She also mentioned that she worked until 4 in the morning, which did not sound great to me, but hopefully she made a lot of money in tips.

The Santorini salad was still delicious on the second time around, but they had run out of kale – was there a run on KALE on St. Patrick’s Day? – and substituted Romaine, which was not QUITE as good. Perhaps I should not have chased that dream.

While I’m on the topic of Things I Did Last Week, I had a pedicure at my local salon. If you are in the Calgary area, and specifically in the Northwest, Anna Nails is the place to go. Her prices are insanely good, and the pedicures are unlike anything I have ever had before. She uses orange peels for exfoliation, and included in a pedicure is a calf massage AND a hot stone massage. It is a bit of an obscure little place, and she doesn’t even have a website, but it will be the best pedicure you have ever had.

Peas in a Podcast

I listen to a lot of podcasts, and there are some episodes that I have particularly loved lately. I am a person who really likes a chatty, lighthearted podcast. I have spoken at length about Forever 35 – I love this podcast about “the things we do to take care of ourselves” and I think I may be in a parasocial relationship with Kate and Doree. They have recently started a “Product Recall” series that airs on Fridays, which discusses products from our past such as Sun-In, Biore Pore Strips, and St. Ives Apricot Scrub. If you are Gen X like me, all the products they talk about will have likely been a part of your youth.

Every Wednesday the women interview a different guest, and there have been two guests recently that have been absolutely fascinating. First: Chrissy King, who wrote a book called The Body Liberation Project, which I immediately put on my TBR list after this mind-blowing episode. Second: Bozoma St. John, who is a high-level executive at Netflix, and who is also a widow, a single mother, and a person who prioritizes sleep over everything. It was a really refreshing discussion about caring for oneself from a woman who is really remarkable.

Alison Rosen Is Your New Best Friend is a fun podcast that comes out twice weekly; I prefer the Monday episodes, which have one guest and interview, to the Thursday episodes, which feature multiple people and are a bit of a free-for-all. Recently I heard an interview with Tiffany Gabrus, who is an entertainment executive-turned-florist, and it was such a lovely episode. The way this woman talks about flowers is so uplifting and fun. She calls flowers her “ladies” and I am Here For It. Another recent interview that I enjoyed was Elizabeth Laime; the interview was just a fun conversation between friends. Also Here For It!

Speaking of Alison Rosen, she was on Celebrity Book Club talking about Priscilla Presley’s Elvis and Me several months ago. If you, like me, spent your entire seventh grade completely obsessed with Elvis in general and that book in particular, if you, like me, thought that the Elvis and Priscilla relationship was the most romantic story of all time and then looked back on it as an adult and thought “Wait, what the fuck? This is a horror show!” then this podcast episode is for you! It is not only my favourite Celebrity Book Club episode, it is one of my favourite podcast episodes EVER.

Oooohhhhh Listen To The Music

Speaking of listening to things, after last week’s Women’s History Month Peloton ride, I created a new Spotify playlist called Nicole’s Layyyyydeeeees. There is some overlap with my playlist of all-time favourites, Nicole’s Karaoke, and even a little bit with Nicole’s Workout, if anyone’s looking for some fun and upbeat sing-a-long songs. Those are some pretty eclectic mixes.

He’s Here, He’s There, He’s Every-Fucking-Where

You guys, Ted Lasso is back! One big upside to my phone not working as a phone and needing to be replaced is that I received three free months of Apple TV, which is PERFECT timing as the new season of Ted Lasso has dropped. We watched the first episode last weekend, but I ended up falling asleep on the couch so I missed the ending. And, possibly, the middle. I guess I should rewatch it.

Also on Apple TV is Eugene Levy’s new show, The Reluctant Traveler. It is a delight! Who knew that watching a man in his 70s – who never wanted to travel – explore new locales would be so much fun?

All Along The Internet Watchtower

You guys, I am so excited to tell you that Laura Bray (HI LAURA) has a Story Club; if you sign up for it, a short story will pop into your inbox every so often. You may remember her from The Sugar Thief, which I have mentioned before and is an absolute delight.

Erin Etheridge (HI ERIN) is always contributing smart and thought-provoking pieces to the internet world, and her latest, We Turn Away From Our Future Selves is a comparison of Erin Brockovich and a book called Hags, about aging women. It is brilliant, as always. The wonderful thing about Erin’s writing is that there is just too much to take in all at once; I usually have to go back and reread her pieces a few times.

Another interesting thing I read recently was this piece; I was fascinated to know that this family of three spent $668 TOTAL for all food in February, in New York City. I mean. How. How is that possible? My grocery bills are much, much higher than that; granted, I have two garbage disposal-like teen boys, but still. It was an interesting piece, with an ode to the joy of food, which I like.

I loved this post on Cup of Jo about a family relocating to England, and discovering that their life followed them there. Wherever you go, there you are. Although, I have questions. Just what are they doing with all those garbanzo beans? That’s a lot of hummus.

Circling back to my parasocial relationship, and also the garbage-disposals, Doree Shafrir wrote a piece about teens, and if they “hang out” in the same way we did. My answer is not really, but that’s not a bad thing. First of all, I think that teens in general – particularly teen boys – get a bit of a bad rap sometimes. Don’t get me wrong; they can be really stupid, as evidenced by the “drive through the snowy school field at midnight” event. However. I do think that teens still hang out a lot together, and although the nature of the hangouts might be different from what we Gen Xers did back in the 80s and 90s, they still are social beings who like hanging out at each others’ homes. There aren’t a whole lot of teen-friendly places – there weren’t when we were teens, and there aren’t many now – but I sometimes will see a pack of teens at the mall or roaming around the neighbourhood, and it makes me smile. I do think Doree makes a good point about kids having much more scheduled lives than we did, which does change teen friendships. I have also heard a lot about teens being on their phone too much, which is true, but also, have you been around adults? It’s not just teens having deep relationships with their phones.

So many interesting people creating so many interesting things, and yes, I include Anna The Esthetician and The Salad Station People In Jamesons’ Kitchen as Creators. And on that note, and also speaking of phones and the internet, THIS Creator is taking a bit of a digital detox. I’m going dark, if you will, but not in a hello darkness my old friend kind of way. Maybe I’m going more charcoal grey? In any case, I will catch you all on the flip side.

Take care of yourselves, and be well. xo

This One Goes Out To The Ladies

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Something that really changed for me during the pandemic was the way in which I wrote this blog. Prior to March 2020, I wrote a few times a week, when I had time, about anything that came into my mind. Once lockdown started, I, like an extremely privileged and much less talented Virginia Woolf, suddenly did not have a room of my own. We live in a 1962 bungalow, and the desktop computer along with the actual desk that I had always used was utilized first by my older son who, unlike my younger one, did not have a laptop to do schoolwork with. Later, when we had purchased him a laptop, my husband took over the desk, as opposed to the dreadful “stand desk” he had put together on our bed. Those were trying times.

Recently I was chatting with a friend about all the wonderful hobbies she has; she is very crafty and lately has taken up spinning her own wool and then knitting with it. I am hopeless at any kind of fibre art, or craft or visual art, really, and I was lamenting my lack of hobbies. But Nicole, she said, you have a hobby! You have written your blog for all these years. I immediately perked up because yes! I have written the blog for all these years!

When lockdown started I didn’t want my writing to go by the wayside, but at the same time, I had absolutely no opportunity during the workday hours to write, and if you know me at all, you know that writing in the evening is not an option; I’m basically in a comatose state by the time 8:30 rolls around. I suppose I could have purchased my own laptop and worked at the dining room table, but I didn’t want to spend the money at the time. Instead, I decided I would write a little bit every morning before my yoga practice, and just jot down ideas at other times during the day, polishing up the posts on the weekends. I decided that I would publish once a week; perhaps twice if I had the physical space and mental energy to do so, but certainly once.

I have my own laptop now, and also my husband only works from home a couple of days a week, so technically I could write at any time of the day, but I have continued with this early morning habit. My Monday morning posts are long and could certainly be broken up into multiple posts, but I don’t want to do that. I like creating, I like really thinking about the way I want to say things, I like crafting sentences and putting words to my ideas. This blog is very much a record of my life; I can see my voice changing as the years go by, and although it is a journal for me, I want it to be more than that.

It’s Women’s History Month, and I took a Peloton ride that was a WHM Epic Sing-a-long; it is exactly what it sounds like, with fun music by female artists, and the instructor encouraging the in-studio audience to sing. This particular audience was unique in that there were a number of other female Peloton instructors, and it was fun to see them go to town with P!NK and Kelly Clarkson numbers. At the end of the ride, the instructor said “We are powerful women! But more than that! We are women who lift up and support other women!” and let me tell you, I was here for that. It was so fun, and I was walking around humming the playlist, on a high all day.

A few weeks ago I read the book Girls They Write Songs About; while I was reading it, I was mesmerized, when I wasn’t, I was thinking about it. I have been thinking about it ever since. It’s a really incredible book about the choices that women make and also about class, New York City, and, crucially, female friendships and how they can endure and also end. I was thrilled to discover that the author, Carlene Bauer, was on a podcast I enjoy – Everything is Fine – which is also the podcast on which I heard about the book in the first place.

Bauer said what she wanted to convey in the book, among many other things, is that friendships can end due to female-specific envy. When two women are in a “have and have not” situation, their friendship cannot withstand that kind of envy, and this is also where judgement comes in, with regards to life choices and situations. Bauer said that when we are young, we dream with our friends about our futures; you cannot judge the people you dream with, and when you do start to judge them for their choices, you can no longer dream with them, and the friendship ends. It is envy, she said, that powers the judgement, and then the friendship crumbles.

My initial reaction to this was no, that can’t be true, but on further reflection, I realized that just because I don’t want something to be true doesn’t mean it isn’t. I thought about my own friendships; past and present, the ones that are strong and the ones that have ended. Does envy play a part? Probably. The friends that are the closest to me are also the friends who have made similar life choices, and who are in similar life situations. I want to be a person who unequivocally lifts up and supports other women in their choices, but am I in an echo chamber of my own making? I don’t know; it’s an uncomfortable thought. It’s pretty easy to lift up and support women who are just like me.

Female-specific envy is something that I think exists, and results from our patriarchal society. We have been conditioned to think that there is only so much room, there is only so much space, that opportunities are limited and competition for those opportunities is fierce. Obviously this is a construct, because life is not a pie in which we all get a little sliver or a giant slab, and once it’s finished, it’s finished. It might be an artificial construct, but the bindings of that artificial construct are tight and lasting.

I started this blog in 2008, because it was something I thought I could do. I have always enjoyed writing, and I had started reading blogs on the Babycenter newsletter – Catherine Newman’s, in particular – when my older son was born in 2004. By 2008, my younger son had started preschool, I had branched out to reading a few more blogs, and I had just gotten my bearings after the stunning years of having two babies less than eighteen months apart. Over the past fifteen years, the blogging world has changed many times – from so-called mommy blogs to monetization, and back again to personal blogs – and here I am. Here we all are.

I love writing because it gives me record of being here on this earth; I like to look back and see what I was doing at any given time over the past fifteen years. I want my history written down, no matter how mundane or tedious that history may be at times. But more than just that, as bloggers and readers, we have a community that is supportive and does truly lift each other up, regardless of circumstances or choices. A lot of negative things have been said about our digitalized world, but I truly think that there is a lot of beauty in it. How else would I have discovered all of you? I have met so many wonderful women here. Some of us have met in person, some of us may never meet in person. If you are reading this, know that you matter to me, that you are important, that you are worthy, that you are deserving of every good thing this world has to offer. We are a community – whether or not you are a blogger, whether or not you are a commenter, whether or not we have ever met – and we are in this beautiful, messy, complicated life together. Together, we can truly work towards breaking those bindings.

Weekly Reading

Remarkably Bright Creatures. I am going to tread very softly here, as I know many people love this book. I am not one of those people. I did start this right after time change, so perhaps I wasn’t in the best frame of mind. However, I figured out the big “twisty character connection” before the halfway mark and that was the only thing that kept me reading this, to see if I was right. I was. This was not the book for me. I found it dull, I didn’t like the voices, and the characters grated. Onwards and upwards.

Hateship, Friendship, Courtship, Loveship, Marriage.  love every word Alice Munro has written, and this collection contains one of my favourite stories: What Is Remembered, a story about a woman having a one-time affair and how her choices affect her life. 

Swimming Lessons. It’s the mark of a good writer that can make a reader feel very passionately about the characters, and let me tell you about the husband in this book: he’s not the very worst husband in the literary world, but he’s up there, Steve. I was in a constant rage while reading this, and also in my mind quoting Amy March “one does have a choice who one loves.” Word, Amy. Each chapter that went by had me internally screaming LEAVE THIS ASSHOLE, RED FLAG RED FLAG RED FLAAAAAAAAGGG. So, um, the book is well done? With a decent ending, but also RAGE RAGE RAGE. And another one of the characters, I kept thinking “this woman needs therapy, STAT.” Well written book but also, all the negative feelings.

Thank you to Stephany (HI STEPHANY) for participating in my Ask Me Anything with the following question: Why did you start your blog and what keeps you blogging year after year? That concludes all my questions – for now! If you have one, fill out the linked form.

Happy Women’s History Month, my friends. Take good care. xo

Three Years

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TIME CHANGE, AM I RIGHT?

It feels like every single March we are all stumbling around for a week like zombies, children crying and pets confused, people getting into accidents, all for something that is completely made up and useless. Every single March we are all shaking our fists at the people who could do something about this, but don’t. There are places in the world that do not change time, WE COULD BE LIKE THAT.

I wonder if, along with feeling furious about time change, every single March I will also think about the start of the pandemic. It has been exactly three years to the day since the First Pandemic Lockdown, and wow, what a weird time that was. At times I find it hard to believe what it was like, what we did, and all the strange things that started to feel just normal. Did we really not go anywhere at all? Did we really feel guilty if we forgot something at the grocery store and had to go out for a second time in less than a week? Was there really no toilet paper on the shelves? Did we really feel constantly panicked if another person got within our six-foot bubbles? Did I really come home after buying groceries and just sit and stare into space for a while? It was such a strange, disturbing time. I mean, some people were disinfecting their groceries and leaving them in a separate room for 48 hours before putting them away. Not me though; that was a bridge way too far.

Just before the Big Lockdown, my life was so busy, and although we had heard about this novel coronavirus in the news, I didn’t really think it would change anything for me or in my life. I was teaching ten classes a week, I was preparing for our spring break trip to Mexico, and I was frantically going to parent meetings and doing last minute fundraising for my younger son’s West Coast sailing trip, that he had been looking forward to for three years. Cue the ominous music; you already know how those vacation plans turned out. But at that time, I thought that other than needing to stock up on my husband’s blood pressure medication, all this in the news would turn out to be a whole lot of nothing.

Only a few days before March 13, 2020, two things happened that made me wonder if something was indeed about to affect me personally.

First, one of my students in Seniors’ Yoga approached me before class. This student was, and is, a Professor Emeritus in Epidemiology at the university. She cautioned me about my upcoming trip to Mexico, saying that I may want to reconsider. Of course I listened to her opinion, and although I still thought at that time I would go, her words did stay with me.

The second thing was my monthly coffee date with my friend Nicole (HI NICOLE) who is also a professor at the university, in chemistry. Nicole seemed very concerned with my Mexico trip as well, asking if I had access to a kitchen (I did not, it was a resort I was headed to) and generally giving off a Very Worried Vibe. She also mentioned that the university was going to close down, and there were rumblings that the schools would too. I was in disbelief about this; schools CLOSING? There was no way that could happen! That would be a disaster!

Honestly, it was a disaster, wasn’t it? Of all the pandemic mitigation strategies, I think that closing the schools was the worst. I remember feeling absolutely devastated that our schools were now closed indefinitely; I still think that the damage to our children and young people was extensive and will be long-lasting, from an educational, developmental, and mental health point of view. Online schooling, while it was the best possible option at the time, was just so detrimental in so many ways, particularly for children in vulnerable situations or in underserved communities. It was terribly detrimental to my own children, who are in no way underserved or vulnerable, and who have all the privilege in the world. We all need to be around peers, physically, and this is especially true for the young.

I often think that the pandemic was a zero-sum game; in order for one thing to be taken care of, other things had to give way. Of course we as a society have to care for each other; as of right now, nearly seven million people have died from Covid, and who knows how many people have been disabled or have had their quality of life severely impacted by the virus. There is absolutely no way to say what those numbers would have been like had there been no mitigation measures.

That said, the mitigation measures themselves have had harsh consequences; hence, my zero-sum game theory. It’s not just an entire generation of youth who have been developmentally stunted in some way, I also often think of the global mental health decline, the vast number of suicides and increased dependence on substances, the loss of people’s livelihoods and the decimation of entire industries. Clearly, we were – and are – all doing our best, everyone was just dealing with ever-changing information and regulations, but wow. What an awful and divisive time. I think it’s going to take a long time to heal in this new era that we have entered. Are we in a post-pandemic state? Covid is still around, people are still falling ill, but are we still considered to be in a global pandemic? I have no idea.

I have spoken before about psychological long Covid, but something else occurred to me this week. Back in the 70s, a comedian who shall remain nameless had a bit about cocaine usage, a pretend dialogue with a cocaine user. “It intensifies your personality.” “Yes, but what if you’re an asshole?” It seems to me that the pandemic, like cocaine, has intensified my personality. In some ways, that’s fine, perhaps even good, but in others, it is not great, Bob.

One thing I have noticed is that my dependence on routine and rituals for comfort has become less of a charming, cozy groove and more of a rut. I am a person who has always been quite regimented in my day-to-day life; I thrive with a routine, I love knowing what I’m doing on any given day. When the pandemic hit I took great comfort in creating new daily routines and rituals, and for the most part, I think they have been greatly beneficial. However. I think my comfortable routine is starting to veer into the “unhealthy dependence” category.

Don’t get me wrong; I happily give and accept invitations for visits, social events, and meals when possible. I enjoy all of those things but every invitation is met with momentary internal mental gymnastics – but I do X on that day! – and I am really, really working on changing this. I don’t want to be like Homer Simpson when Marge had plans on Saturday night. “Saturday night! But that’s our special night! What’s so special about…oh, I don’t know. A little so-called Dr. Quinn? Medicine Woman?”

I think the pandemic has tamped down my sense of adventure, which may have happened anyway with age – who’s to say? – and I don’t like it. It’s not like I’m turning things down, but I have moments of hesitation and worry about my schedule disruption, and I don’t want those moments to get any bigger, or to become consequential. There is a lot of joy and satisfaction in my ordinary day-to-day life, yes, but the memories I cherish stem from times that I broke out of my routine, when something new or different happened, when I travelled or saw a friend or experienced something I hadn’t before. I don’t want to live my life just plodding along, every week the same; I want to be able to appreciate my comfortable routine by breaking it, and then coming back. I want to reignite my adventurous self, while still finding daily joys in ordinary things. I need to spread my wings and find adventures where I can.

First, though, I need to get caught up on sleep. TIME CHANGE. Good lord, when will this madness end?

Weekly Reading

You Just Need To Lose Weight. Maintenance Phase is such a good podcast, and the co-host, Aubrey Gordon, is such a smart and articulate woman. This is her second book and it is educational, illuminating, and important. It will make you think about language we use and it’s implication, as well as the biases we as a society hold.

Dial A For Aunties. Omg, this was such a cute and funny book! It’s part slapstick comedy, part mystery, part romance, part love letter to the author’s mom and aunties. What happens when a woman accidentally kills a blind date? Her aunties help her with the body! But the family wedding business has a big event upcoming and putting the corpse in a cake cooler was not the best idea. This was so silly and funny and if you need a laugh and a light read, this book is for you! 

The Summer I Turned Pretty. I read this whole series when the guys were in Alaska in 2019, and so when I saw this at the library I thought I’d give it a reread. Fun fact about reading a YA romance when you’re 47? You really empathize with the parents.

My friend Lee (HI LEE) posted this on Facebook and I felt that this really sums up how I feel after time change:

All right, time to gear up for the week! Take care, friends! xo

March Madness

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Marching Into March

In many parts of the world, March marks the arrival of spring, but in Calgary, March is firmly a Winter Month. My birthday is in the last third of April, and I feel like that is the tentative start to spring, although it can certainly snow in any month of the year. Yes, you read that correctly. I have experienced snow – in the air, not on the ground – in both July and August. March is typically the snowiest month of the year, which has brought great joy to Rex, and a lot of lower back stretches to my classes, to alleviate any pain from shovelling. Most of my ladies outsource that job, but I think lower back stretches are always appreciated.

Calgarians have a strange tendency to disparage climates in other locations, probably to make ourselves feel better about our six, seven, eight months of winter. Any mention of typically beautiful cities with short winters – particularly cities in BC – will conjure up a “well, it’s horrible and cloudy there in the winter,” and while that may be true, and Calgary does have lovely blue skies often, it feels very much like sour grapes to me. Also, while we do enjoy a lot of sunshine, our winters are very long and very cold, and we also have a lot of this:

It’s cloudy here too, people.

All of which is to say that while I am embracing the season, friluftsliv, hygge, et cetera, I am also enjoying photos of spring in other parts of the world. It will be a while before my garden boxes are green, and in the meantime, I need to break Rex of this very bad habit:

All By Myself

It has been a bit of a strange weekend, here in the Boyhouse. My husband was out of town for the first time in months, my older son was working closing shifts Friday and Sunday, and my younger son was at the high school wrestling City Championships. Friday night, it was just me and Rex at home for dinner, which felt very odd. I think the last time I was home alone for dinner was when the guys took a trip through Yukon and Alaska in 2019. I had my usual favourite dinner of Greek salad with pita and hummus, plus some red wine and tortilla chips and salsa, because I am a girl who knows how to enjoy herself. I topped it all of by watching the first two episodes of Season One NYPD Blue. I used to love that show, and I still do, but I wanted to see what it would look like thirty years after its release. It turns out, it is a great timepiece of New York in the early 90s, and the camera work is just as interesting as I remembered.

Now, these days I do not watch much television (do we still call it television? I mean shows in general) so let’s just take this observation with a grain of salt, but there really aren’t many non-beautiful people cast in TV or movies anymore. It seems like everyone on-screen now is gorgeous, and has perfect teeth, and boy, that was not the case back in the early 90s and prior. I think 90% of the cast of NYPD Blue is pretty average looking, if not downright unattractive, which is kind of remarkable by today’s standards. All these regular-looking people, living full – if dramatic – lives, having romances, friendships, successes and failures.

I feel like it was the advent of Friends that kicked off the whole We All Look Fantastic And We Have This Amazing New York Apartment; but before Friends, we had this:

Girl, You’ll Be A Woman Soon

Speaking of popular culture from the 90s, I watched Pulp Fiction with the boys on Saturday night. My older son had seen it recently and, hearing a story about how the first time I saw it I was on a date and I fainted during the scene where Mia gets an adrenaline shot in the heart (spoiler alert for an almost thirty year old movie), asked if I wanted to rewatch it with him. My younger son, exhausted from a full two days of wrestling, decided to join, asking first what the movie is about. We looked at each other for a moment and I said I don’t know. It’s kind of plotless? I still don’t know how to describe the plot but it really holds up. I am not a Tarantino fan, but this movie is the exception. What can I say, I’m a sucker for a hitman who has a spiritual awakening. Also, the soundtrack, as the kids say, slaps.

Memories of Barkley

I was at the library this week, and a young, lovely librarian lit up when she saw me. Hi! she said excitedly. How is your sweet dog? I must have looked a little blank for a moment, and she continued to chatter about the days of curbside pickup, and how she loved bringing my books out and seeing that cute brown labradoodle, I have a brown labradoodle, right, and he is just like a stuffed animal, so cute?

Oh.

You know that moment when you’re going to say something that will cause awkward feelings, but you have to do it anyway? Her face fell as I explained that he died, but I loved that she remembered him so well.

The very next day I was walking Rex, and to mix up his route I walked down a street that was part of Barkley’s loop to the library. A woman was shovelling snow and she stopped to ask if she could say hi to Rex. I didn’t recognize her but clearly she recognized me as she asked how long ago Barkley died, and how sorry she was, and how she always liked seeing the two of us on our walks.

It was really nice to hear these two women – both kind of strangers – talk about Barkley in such a sweet way. The last couple years of his life were so fraught; I walked him every single day to keep him ambulatory, and every single day a stranger would comment on his appearance, generally in a “what’s wrong with your dog” kind of way. Every single day. I had people stop their cars on the street, roll down their windows, and ask about him. I had people ask if I was aware he had a lump on his side, as if it could have possibly been missed. I had one man ask when I was going to put him down. It was all very hard, but these two women were so kind, and so sweet, that it really helped erase all the sad feelings I had about that time.

Library Thievery

The reason I was talking to the librarian in the first place was because I had gone in to pick up a book I had put on hold, and it wasn’t on the Holds shelf. I wondered if it was still on the cart, although I had received notification that the book was in the day before. It wasn’t, and this led to a lot of searching and typing on the computer, and the librarian sighed deeply. “It’s a popular book,” she said, “and sometimes people see these popular books on the cart, and they TAKE THEM.” I honestly was startled at the thought of looking at the holds cart, seeing a book with a name receipt to indicate the person who had put it on hold, and then, shrugging at the rules, taking the book out. Of all the places for breaking the rules, I never think of the library as one of them, but the librarian told me gravely that this happens all the time. It’s one of the issues with the self-checkout. WHO KNEW. Certainly not me! I am a rule follower generally, and so it would never occur to me to sneak a popular book off of the Holds cart that wasn’t for me. Consider me shocked.

Weekly Reading

This feels like a good time to segue into weekly reading. I had a couple of real winners this week!

Girls They Write Songs About. Oh wow, this book! I was mesmerized. I read this very slowly because I needed to absorb every single word, and I reread many pages a few times. But how to describe this? There’s not really a plot. But it’s a story about women, about choices and relationships and work and becoming. The narrator is around my age and the story begins in NYC in 1997, and I could see myself in this story, the multiverse version of me, that is. It’s just an incredibly written, beautiful, raw, dark book that is also affirming and uplifting, but very real. I was on a real high after finishing this book; I could not stop thinking about it, so I logged into Goodreads to see if there were others who felt this way. This was a big mistake. There were so many negative reviews that I immediately logged back out, because I did not want to be brought down. What I am saying, then, is that while I absolutely loved this book, it seems like many people do not, so, you know. Your mileage may vary.

The Marriage Portrait. I had put this on hold, but unsurely; historical fiction is a tricky genre for me as I feel it is so hard to do it well. Often I find that modern values will be placed in historical fiction, to the detriment of the plot, and the dialogue can feel very off. Also, there was a lot of buzz about this book and that doesn’t always translate to me to be an enjoyable read. I mean, sometimes it does, but often I am disappointed. I read the jacket before starting the book and two things stood out: I had read and enjoyed this author’s memoir about her multiple brushes with death, and The Marriage Portrait was an imagining of the life of the subject of the portrait in Robert Browning’s My Last Duchess. I, along with everyone else, probably, read and dissected this poem in university; I really liked it and at that moment, I was in. I did enjoy this book about a young Florentine woman married off to the Duke of Ferrara; and some of it was a little heavy-handed with the imagery, and I quibble with the ending, but for the most part it was a sweeping story that really hooked me in. I was in the perfect mental space to be transported by this novel.

Happy first week of March, everyone! I wish you all an abundance of blue skies, good books, fun shows, and maybe something growing in your garden besides a 95 pound dog. xo

Five For Friday: The Your Questions, Answered Edition

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I love how we all have Very Strong Feelings about desserts, and, to a lesser extent, potato chip flavours. I am here for the debate! Next up we will be discussing the use of top sheets.

Just kidding! We won’t. I am not wading into that discussion! For the record, I am Team Top Sheet, and it was only in the last few years that I realized that this isn’t the case for every other person, so consider me Sheet Sheltered. If you are not of Team Top Sheet: live your life! Do you! Be free! It is very unlikely we will be sharing a bed, so I am one hundred percent supportive of all your linen and bedding decisions.

Well, here we are in March, and I have not answered all the questions from my Ask Me Anything that I posted in December. Let’s remedy that, shall we?

  • Ernie (HI ERNIE) asked: Have you ever been to Chicago? Or what places in the US have you been to, and where in the US would you like to go, or re-visit? I have been to Chicago! It was for a work-related conference back in the fall of 2000, and I did not get to see as much as I would have liked of the city. I did, however, ride the train from the airport to downtown, which was an adventure. I was travelling with two work colleagues from the Houston office, and one of them, Warren, had lived in Chicago for several years. Warren, like me, was a quantitative analyst, and he was perhaps not great at deciphering social cues, but he was very enthusiastic about his time spent in Chicago. Warren gave me a rundown of every Chicago mayor over the past century, talking at length about both Mayor Daleys and all the changes they made to the Windy City. Honestly, I remember none of it, but I did drink a lot of sangrias at the tapas bar at which he regaled me with the stories. I had never been to a tapas bar before, and when he suggested it, I thought he was asking if I wanted to go to a TOPLESS bar, and when my mistake was revealed, hilarity ensued. Ah, I think of that time fondly, if a little fuzzily. I have been to many other places in the US: New York, Florida, Texas, Hawaii, California, Oregon, Washington, North Dakota, Montana, Utah, Nevada, and – for an unexpected eight-hour flight stopover – Minnesota. I’m not sure if I should count that because I did not leave the airport, although I did consider taking a shuttle to go see the Mall of America. I have enjoyed all those places; no one beats the Americans for pure friendliness, in my mind. I would definitely like to explore more of the country.

This is, clearly, not Chicago. But it is Maui, which is in the US!

  • Kyria (HI KYRIA) asked: What was the most interesting thing to happen to you when traveling and why? There are so many incredible places in the world; I want to explore so much of it. I have been very lucky indeed to be able to see many countries and have many adventures, but I think the most interesting place I’ve been to is Egypt. I really loved my time there, back in February 2000, and of all the adventures I had – riding donkeys and camels, being on the overnight train from Luxor to Aswan when so-called undercover police burst in, wearing long white robes and carrying machine guns, and wandering through ancient ruins – I think the most interesting one was climbing Mount Sinai in at 2:30 in the morning, to be at the summit when the sun rose. I was brought up in a very church-going house, and to be at the top of Mount Sinai, looking down at a monastery in Egypt, was a really incredible experience. It was also a very cold experience; it took me three full days to warm up. Now, that is more of an interesting thing I DID, rather than something that happened to me, but I think it counts.
  • San (HI SAN) and Elisabeth (HI ELISABETH) asked: What is one thing you like best about yourself/ which of your personality traits is your favourite? This is such a sweet question! I am at the point in my life where I like most things about myself; the things that I haven’t, I have changed where I could and accepted where I couldn’t. I’m like a living Serenity Prayer. The thing I probably like the best about myself, and I have been this way for as long as I can remember, is my willingness to talk to anyone at any time. I have no compunctions about going to a party alone where I don’t know anyone, I have no problems walking up to a group of people and joining the conversation. I have, unsurprisingly, met a lot of friends that way. It never occurs to me to worry about being rejected; if someone doesn’t like me, no big deal. I mean, I’m not for everyone. But I am endlessly fascinated by other people and their stories; I want to know everything! Like Harry Burns, I want to know the story of your life. Sometimes this backfires and I end up, for example, distracting the Uber driver so that he misses the turnoff, but for the most part, I feel very enriched by the wild tapestry that is the world we live in.

HELLO DO YOU WANT TO BE FRIENDS

  • Suzanne (HI SUZANNE) and Elisabeth (HI ELISABETH) both asked: How did you meet your husband? The short answer is that we met at university; I was a fourth-year honours student, and he was just starting in the master’s program. One fact that you may or may not know about me and my husband is that there is a ten year age gap between us (once, when I was about 25, we were at a party and a woman, upon hearing the age gap mentioned, asked who was older. I have never forgotten that! If we learn nothing else, let’s not ever imply that a 25 year old woman might be 40.). Anyway, I was preparing to go to grad school, and he had spent years already working and travelling, before deciding to go back to university to get his master’s. We were friends for almost two years before we started dating (“dating;” I think you get my meaning). My husband is a pretty young-at-heart guy, and so for the most part the age gap is a non-issue, but not always. Sometimes, I do think about it, particularly as he edges closer to 60. He’s been my Shmoopy for twenty-five years, and I hope that will be the case for at least that much longer.
  • Stephany (HI STEPHANY) asked: If you could relive any year of your life, which year would you choose? The short answer is: none of them. This is not to say I haven’t had a wonderful life, because I have. I have had many fantastic years of my life which I look back on with love and fondness. But I don’t think I would ever relive them even if I could. The closest thing would be our family trip to Disney World and Universal Studios in November 2016. The only thing I think of, when I think of that trip, is happiness. I think of the joy, the sunshine, the fun. We have taken many fabulous trips as a family, but that one stands out in my mind. I would not, however, relive that year. 2016 was a wrenching, exhausting, and exhilarating year. That year my father-in-law died; in fact it was only a few weeks before we left for our trip. Watching his demise was very sad and not something I want to talk about, but it shows that wonderful times can follow wrenching times, and vice versa. It was also, needless to say, a terribly divisive and wretched year politically, but it was also the year I took my yoga teacher training, which was incredible. I would not relive that year, but those five days in Orlando were the healing and happy family time we all needed. The boys were the absolute perfect age for it – eleven and twelve – and we had been to Disney before, so we were prepared for the sensory explosion and crowds and magical feelings that I don’t think is possible to imagine otherwise.

Do you have a question for me? Feel free to post it in my Ask Me Anything! In the meantime, I would love to hear your answers to any and all of these questions. Happy Friday, everyone! I hope it’s lovely. xo