Pretty Good Ugly

Gifts from Marge

I had the fine privilege of training and getting to know a wonderful woman in her 80’s named Marge. I started training her in our Exercise to Wellness program and when COVID hit, we took our training sessions first to Zoom, and then outdoors (once we’d both been vaccinated).

A fascinating woman, who had faced many challenges and deep loss, including the death of one of her son’s, Marge gifted me with perspective, experience, and grace. She became a surrogate grandmother to my daughter and I would often distract her with stories while she exercised.

Marge would send cards and books to Kidlette, and I would send pictures and drawings. One of the gifts of Zoom training was that the two of them got to see each other a bit. The best was one day I brought Kidlette with me and she LOVED “training at Nana Marge’s house.”

Last year, Marge suffered a stroke and it wasn’t the kind you rebound from. When she passed, I decided to leave fitness. It wasn’t a healthy place for me and I realized I was wanting to leave for a while but never would have quit on Marge. I loved our visits.

I’d tell her about K’s antics and she’d marvel at the change in parenting styles over time. “I can’t ever imagine my mother getting down on the floor with me,” she told me with a grin. Never judgmental, but filled with curiosity and delight.

I loved Marge and I know she loved us. The other day I was in my garden and noticed some of the bulbs I buried last year are poking through to say hello. Marge got me to do that. I told her about how I’d replanted a bulb once and was so thrilled when it poked through.

“Oh, I do that with all my bulbs!” She shared, “Stick em in the dirt and then I forget where I put them until they come up. It’s like a present to yourself.”

So as their little green sprouts poked through I smiled and thought “Hi Marge. Thank you for your love and lessons.”

It’s gonna be, y’all. I won’t say it’s gonna be okay, because things are mighty hard. But it’s gonna be. It’s gonna be spring eventually, things will blooms, things will change, and life will continue.

It’s gonna be. And You are loved. By me and others.

Chew something, and hydrate.

xox

Rough few days/What I’d Tell My Daughter

It’s been a rough few days. And I’m proud of myself.

I haven’t succumbed to the sinkhole of self-pity (though I’ve certainly dipped my toe into the pond of self-righteousness). I’m able, for now, to maintain perspective. And that is new.

In my process of breaking out of the binary, I’m beginning to recognize more shades of grey- more nuance and context— which grants me freedom; it gives me space for grace.

Not that I’ve been all that graceful or gracious. I’ve been awkward and vindictive, but I’m learning to hold space for that. I’m holding space for my messy imperfect humanity.

And desperately trying to remember that we’re all messy humans. And that most people are mostly good.

Recently I was wronged. I was misrepresented and it was quite a blow. Im trying to let it go, as it’s one of the Things-I-Can’t-Change, but that is proving difficult.

I tell myself “This is a reflection of them, not you. Remember who you are. Trust yourself.” And I need the constant reminder.

I even reached out (WHAT?!? I know).

But before we give me too much credit, know that it could also be described as “VagueBooking” or “fishing.”

But I did it and I’m glad I did. I asked my network to let me know if I’d ever been helpful to them because I was having a shit day and also would appreciate animal pix.

And Y’ALL. My vulnerability and honesty paid off. Folks from all areas of my life (and all its iterations) chimed in and made me feel so SEEN and VALUED and LOVED.

It reminded me that I have value and purpose beyond just that shit day. That my yesterdays meant something and that tomorrow I could help someone too.

One shit day is one shit day and it’s not that it doesn’t suck (IT DOES… omg it really does), but one day is not my life. One day, however shitty, will not define me.

The ripple effect of the shit day will still be significant, but it doesn’t wash out all the other goodness we’ve created.

Also, I did something. And I highly recommend it. I was so lost and upset and I didn’t want to talk to ANYONE about it.

So I wrote a letter. As if I were writing to my daughter who’d had a day like mine.

I’ve read it several times since, and it helps.

So while I hope you never need this, I’m still leaving it here, in case anyone makes you feel unvalued.

What I’d Tell My Daughter

“I am so sorry. This is unfair. The people who don’t appreciate you, who see you through a skewed filter, are really missing out.

Being sensitive, tender, different, gives you insights that others lack. These insights allow you to notice things that others miss. It can be really hard to walk through this life feeling and seeing what others miss.

The difficulty does not mean you are doing anything wrong. You are not broken.

I realize this does not remove the pain.

I see you and I value you.”

I’ll pull a Lion King and echo this— “remember who you are.”

And I’ll add this— “if you need help remembering who you are, ask your people how you’ve helped.”

Their recollections will reflect your nature. Your actions will remind you.

And if that’s not available, do one thing tomorrow. Help one person. Each day is a brand new day and thankfully they only last 24 hours.

Breathe through your day. You are loved by me and others. Time for some water, I’m thirsty.

Xox

Keeping it Simple.

As you may have inferred, I am not much of a cook. I can, and will, cook to feed myself and my family out of necessity but not necessarily full of joy.

I know I feel better when I eat more plants (grains, fruits, veg), but I also know “plant based recipes” tend to be complex multi-step process filled with specialty/expensive ingredients.

So today I share a slice of freedom, a dose of perspective , that “healthy” (or healthful, or whatever you use), doesn’t need to be complicated.

Regular ass oatmeal. “Old fashioned” rolled oats. I add cinnamon.

Oatmeal, apple slices, a splash of milk— and it’s good.

For my fellow nerds out there, I like to use apple slices because it adds a bit of sweetness and creates more chewing, which is a big part of starting the digestion process. Like kindling for the fire. It also adds some micronutrients and fiber, plus you know, it tastes good.

Another geeky reason I add apple is I like a delegation of food types— a whole grain and a fruit is better than just a whole grain. Thinking in terms of “more” instead of “less” has been a big shift for me.

So has divorcing specialty ingredients 😹

Old fashioned oats, apples, cinnamon, regular-ass milk (whole milk y’all).

Basic but delicious. Adding nuts would make it “better” (more inclusive/nutritious) but I don’t like nuts in my oatmeal so it’s not “better” to me.

So remember y’all, there’s gonna be a ton of New Years’a diet shit going around. Lots of money to be made off our insecurities

Fuck em.

You are loved by me and others. Hydrate, moisturize, rest.

Xox

Proud Mama

Bean is old enough now that she’s paying attention to our conversations. Last night I was talking to my spouse about bad headlines. Specifically, the headlines surrounding SCOTUS’ recent decision to keep T****’s Title 42 in place, effectively closing the border to asylum seekers.

Some context—my grandfather was a newspaperman and he was always very clear with us about the duties of the 4^th pillar. That an informed public is a requirement of a healthy democracy. Well the headlines yesterday were so convoluted, it was hard to determine WHAT the heck it meant.

Title 42 closed the border under pandemic conditions. Family separation, the cruel ice boxes, the forced sterilizations of women, all this came together with the criminalization of those seeking asylum.

Biden challenged this, saying we now have vaccines and are no longer living under pandemic conditions, travel has resumed and so should asylum (TBC we still have a pandemic but our society is no longer functioning under those early restrictions).

Republicans challenged THAT (Funny when they decide to acknowledge the virus), and SCOTUS sided with them (no surprise there but lots of disappointment).

So last night, I’m talking to my spouse about the lack of clarity in reporting on this. In that conversation I mentioned something about how TFG wanted to keep people out, people who need help.

This is the moment our child chimed in. “That’s not right!” Bean declared from the living room, “When people are cold and need help, we should let them in and help them!” (Someone was paying attention to the Innkeeper’s story at Christmas).

Y’all. Times are hard but that moment really lifted me up. My first grader has a good heart. A really good heart. And I’m proud AF.

Pep Talk

When I need a pep talk I cue up Oprah’s Golden Globes acceptance speech for her Cecil B deMille award. (Here: Today a fabulous highlight reel played in my memories, including Oprah’s speech.

These 9 minutes can count towards 15- mins of self care.

But today I noticed Alfred Molina’s face while listening to her.

And it was so absolutely beautiful. It gave me the HUGEST BOOST today.

(Side note: “Promising Young Woman” is phenomenal)

There are a lot of good people out there. That’s helpful for me to remember 💕

Most people are mostly good. I believe in that.

Anyhow, remember to eat something. Hydrate and moisturize. You are loved by me and others. Xox

What do you do when you need a pep talk?

Merry Chaos: Holidays with Spirited Littles

Here are my two cents, take them or leave them like the pennies at the checkout counter.

Let GO. For real. Do LESS. Waaaay less.

My spirited is in first grade and this year boy is it something. All the magic plus more awareness, it’s a beautiful thing.

It’s also A LOT. She wakes up earlier to find the elf, she’s constantly negotiating for candy canes, Kringle, and cakes, the house is a mess of boxes that she’s turned into a robot/a tea shop/Mr Fox’s house.

There are fairy lights every where and not in a neat line, but flung every which way in a merry and chaotic way.

Then the cards start arriving. My beautiful friends with their professional photos and matching outfits and it’s easy to feel like a failure.

Let that GO.

We baked cookies the other day, and having never made roll out/cut out cookies before, my stress level was HIGH. But guess what? They were fine! Pretty? Not quite. But still delicious.

And my second lesson was learned- DO LESS. I thought we needed to decorate ALL the cookies we baked. NOPE.

Kidlette wanted to decorate two of them. And decorated TF outta them. She much frosting and sprinkles. And then she was ready to do something else.

I almost instinctively was like “THAT IS TOO KUCH FROSTING FOR ONE COOKIE!” But eh. Then muscle memory kicked in with “NO! We have to finish! We must do them ALLLLLL” but no! Turns out you can have two intensely decorated cookies and a bunch of plain ones and life continues.

I only had two kinds of sprinkles and turns out that’s FINE. And I miscalculated, apparently she decorated three.

I wanted to see the tree lighting downtown, kidlette was sick, we stayed home, the holidays continue. It wasn’t t a big deal.

Last night was a holiday stroll, she really wanted to go. I had in my mind expectations of decorating ourselves and packing food and we ended up with glow-sticks, pbj, and hot chocolate in to go mugs. It was lovely. It was more that enough.

There is SO MUCH PRESSURE put on us (and a lot is self-imposed), to do all the things at a Pinterest level.

But trust me when I tell you, you can unsubscribe to that.

Especially those with under 6s. (Mine is now seven). Just take it easy. The tree will be a mess, it’s fine. (Ours is outside, lol). They won’t sit through Nutcracker, it’s FINE to wait! There *will* be Nutcracker when they’re older.

It’s okay to NOT shell out hundreds of dollars for a train ride or to ice skate. It’s fine if you DON’T get a picture with Santa this year. Kids are sick, stay home and cozy!

There’s always been pressure on parents. But social media has increased it exponentially.

So learn from this messy millennial mom (if you want, or leave it, like I said): IT’S OKAY.

Be a little easier on yourself. It’s your holiday too. Don’t miss it because you think you have to do ALL THE THINGS.

You don’t. I promise.

Hydrate and moisturize, you are loved by me and others.

December Blues

I think it’s an exceptionally difficult time to be a human.

People are really struggling.

We were running on empty before, then emergency reserves, then fumes and now? Who knows how we keep going.

In the face of corruption and greed and violence.

In the face of planetary destruction and no response by the powers that be.

As we live paycheck to paycheck until illness bankrupts us.

The December blues are in my bones.

I fill our days with Merry and Bright to stave off the Darkness.

Lighting handles, hanging holly, feeling anything but jolly.

I know I am not alone.

So I light another candle to keep the Darkness away.

To keep the Darkness at bay.

I wish you comfort and coziness. May you know that isolation is a lie for we are all connected. And this great despair that fills the air makes this an excruciating time for the tender-hearted.

You are not broken. And you are loved. By me and others.

And I promise, the light will return.

xox

December Blues

I think it’s an exceptionally difficult time to be a human.

People are really struggling.

We were running on empty before, then emergency reserves, then fumes and now? Who knows how we keep going.

In the face of corruption and greed and violence.

In the face of planetary destruction and no response by the powers that be.

As we live paycheck to paycheck until illness bankrupts us.

The December blues are in my bones.

I fill our days with Merry and Bright to stave off the Darkness.

Lighting handles, hanging holly, feeling anything but jolly.

I know I am not alone.

So I light another candle to keep the Darkness away.

To keep the Darkness at bay.

I wish you comfort and coziness. May you know that isolation is a lie for we are all connected. And this great despair that fills the air makes this an excruciating time for the tender-hearted.

You are not broken. And you are loved. By me and others.

And I promise, the light will return.

xox

Advent in the 2020s

One of the strange and wonderful things about aging is realizing which traditions you want to hold on to and which ones you can release.

Lighting the advent candles is something I’ve held onto. Hope is such a strong, gritty, determined thing. And more light and warmth is almost always a good thing.

After all this is the time when days are shortest, when cold settles in, and when people need the cheer brought by the promise of light and warmth.

“Week by week, the candles remind us that the darkness of fear and hopelessness recedes as more and more light is shed into the world.”

Thank you Aunt Robin for encouraging me to listen to UU. Thank you mom and dad for sharing your faith. Thank you Jenifer for the advent kit last year.

Thank you to all of who who are beacons of light in the darkness.

I am slowly learning that hope and faith are not dainty quaint notions but are relentless and messy dedications to something better.

Stay cozy. You are loved by me and others.

Whispers of Autumn

It’s starting— the weather’s shifting, coughs are getting deeper, green is fading to gold, and I get to wear scarves.

GAME ON.

California catches a lot of flack for “not having seasons,” which we do, they’re just kinda chill about it. Nothing too extreme.

(Until everything catches fire again but shhhh)

Our neighbor’s tree is changing, I look forward to the day I turn the corner in my bike at catch it in all its golden glory.

Meanwhile, let’s enjoy its gorgeous transitional state

Then again, isn’t every state a transitional one? From seed to sapling, green to gold to red to bare to green.

From child to daughter to self to mother.

Little versions of ourselves, tucked in next to each other and around each other like a giant blob of mish-mashed play dough— complete within its components and yet something entirely new as a whole.

I love autumn. It reminds me that change is the course. That life doesn’t need me to MAKE IT HAPPEN, it will unfold as it will.

Because it does, season to season, year after year after year.

So fret not, my darlings. Breathe in and out all day long. The sun will rise and it will set. Wear sunscreen and hydrate.

You are loved by me and others.