Monthly Archives: January 2015
So, you got a DNA test for Christmas? Someone thought it would be so much fun for you to find out you’re not really Native American or they just didn’t want to get you socks or a calendar.
The other day on Facebook, a friend was actually sharing. Like saying how they really felt, sharing their experience and frustrations about personal things. It wasn’t a picture of what they ate for lunch or a picture of how badly someone had parked or anything remotely political.
Every question your choices or your path or your life’s work? Ever wonder if somewhere along the line, if you’d only made a left instead of a right,
I meet people all the time who seem to think hiring a life coach is akin to having a blow up doll in their closet.
I was reading the news this morning about Scott Hamilton and his feelings about not calling the triple salchows for this year’s Olympics (spoiler alert: He’s just fine) and it reminded me about when my husband was teaching our kids how to rollerblade.
I spend a fair amount of time in locker rooms. Some women are modest (like me) and they are covered in a towel (or two) or they have half their clothes on and the other half of their bodies covered in a towel (again,
I know. Everyone loves to talk about gratitude. We live in a time where, god help us, we have to be told to be grateful and if we can’t remember it on our own,
Let me establish a bit of credibility. My mom had a stroke when she was 49. I was 29. I was her eldest child and she was unmarried which meant I was in charge of the big decisions.
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