text:
Nobody could have prepared me for this. Even when a cousin of my husband's, upon finding out I was pregnant with my fourth child, commented to my husband and me, "You know, you can have sex without getting pregnant." But even if Mr. Snarky would have tried to lay it all out for me, I would have been unable to comprehend the trajectory of my life with four kids spanning a decade. It would not have made sense to me, nor would it fit neatly in my brain. Because having four children with a large age span is not tidy. It is messy and complicated, exciting and surreal. It forces my brain to expand like a rubber band threatening to snap at any moment.
If It Is Not Captured on Social Media, Did It Really Happen?
Finding Meaning in May Madness
Why I Am Grateful For Slime
Let's check over here," I motion to my 12-year-old daughter to follow me to the cosmetics isle. This is our fourth trip to Target in the last few weeks for the sole purpose of buying supplies for the new obsession gripping tweens all over the country—SLIME.
The current desired ingredient is a new one. "Baby powder is supposed to make the slime softer and less sticky," my daughter, now an expert slime chemist, explains to me. She also assures me that she will be able to pay back the money we've spent on supplies with the money she collects from her fellow classmates (most of whom are also in the slime manufacturing and sales business) in exchange for her magnificently mastered mixture of shaving cream, glue, contact solution, and now baby powder.
Shampoo, body wash, lotions…I am not seeing the baby powder anywhere. My agitation rises as I curse myself for being sweet talked into this inconvenient trek to Target on a night when my son needs help with an assignment, my husband is at a work dinner, and I have to teach my teen writing class in an hour. I calm myself with the notion that at least this obsession, unlike other bygones like silly bands, does involve a creative process when mixing, measuring, and experimenting to form the germ-collecting balls of goo.
"Hi!" I find myself almost yelling to the young, exhausted-looking woman standing behind the nearby pharmacy counter. "Can you please tell me where the baby powder is?"
Before I even let the you've-got-to-be-kidding-me-lady look on her face throw me into a shame pit, I grabbed my daughter's hand and led her briskly out of the pharmacy area murmuring, "Oh my gosh, never mind."
We both erupted in giggles as we headed over to the "baby" isle for the elusive "baby" powder.
My internal Target compass paused as we pass the girls section, our usual go-to area. "The baby section is over by electronics, I am pretty sure," I muttered, still smiling at the irony.
And then it hit me.
The baby aisle had completely fallen off of my radar.
I could not recall the last time I had even gone near the avenue of pacifiers, diaper genies, bottles and diapers. As I walked toward baby land with my baby, disguised as a 12-year-old, I realized that I no longer knew the layout of this section that for decades I was able to navigate with my eyes closed. I didn't even recognize some of the items on the shelf.
How could this be? This was MY territory! And now, I had forgotten it even existed!
"Mom, here, I found it," my daughter's sweet voice lulled me out of my trance. "Let's go! You've got to get to your class," she reminded me.
I stood motionless, my eyes scanning the baby items stacked neatly on the shelves. "I miss this, " I said. She tracked my gaze to the shelf full of diapers.
"You miss changing my diapers," she said coyly with a playful smile on her face.
"No I miss my babies," I told her with sincerity, ignoring her sarcasm. I miss holding you in my arms, your baby smell, and hugging you and kissing you as much as I want to."
"Well, I don't," she quipped again, her smile growing even bigger. "Ugh!" I groaned and grabbed my belly in reaction to her verbal gut-punch.
Walking to the check out lane, I leaned in to the nostalgia where I saw the baby faces of my four children--their beaming smiles as well as their looks of terror and disappointment. I could hear their shrieks of laughter and their blood curdling cries. I remembered my feelings of joy, agony, exhaustion, uncertainly, and fear that consumed me as a young mom trying to figure out what I was doing. And I remember yearning for the days when I would no longer need anything from the baby isle.
"Beep," the self-checkout scanner hit the barcode on the bottom of the baby powder cuing me back to the present. My daughter placed the powder in the white plastic bag and started toward the exit.
"Jo, hold up," I said as I quickly caught up to her and enveloped her in a hug. "You've grown up so fast, girl," I said in earnest. "I love you so much."
As I prepared for her to immediately shake me off, per usual, instead I felt her body sinking into my hug. "I love you too, mom," she said softly. "And thanks for taking me to get the baby powder," she added.
Scurrying through the Minnesota cold toward our car, I felt grateful that our slime mission led me back to the baby isle and for all the memories that I found there. I realized that just like slime, the passage of time often slips through our hands when we are not looking. And without notice, we open our eyes and find ourselves in the next isle at Target.
Driving home, I take in that my youngest child is on the cusp of becoming a teenager but in this moment, she thinks of nothing other than how much baby powder she will add to her slime mixture.
And I am grateful.
Grateful for all of the memories of my children's baby years, and grateful for the fact that there is nowhere I would rather be than right here right now.
Slime and all.
Staying Calm this Holiday Season With Gratitude, Connection, and Nostalgia
Yes, I am feeling it. The intensity of the holiday season is in the air and it is nearly impossible to escape the droplets of frenetic energy that invisibly dissolve into our pores this time of year.
For me, I notice that my thinking gets more scattered, I have a hard time writing, and a slight heaviness sets in as early darkness shortens our days, and it is so damn cold outside.
But the blessings…oh the blessings. So many of them. It is the deep gratitude I feel for these blessings that help me embrace the intense beauty and fragility of life and the increasing awareness of the passage of time. This week, I enter a new decade of life...
Self-Care Doesn't Get Old—A Letter of Gratitude
Dear Julie,
I just finished reading your book The Self-Care Solution generously given to me by your mother-in-law.
You shared with the world the challenges you experienced not just as a mom but as a person trying to be the best you can be in an imperfect world.
Your suggestions for "self care" are reminders of how we can all be better advocates for ourselves and those we love.
Needing Mom—Then and Now
To be a mom is to continually manage the fierce mama bear feelings that make us want to sprint to our child's rescue, kiss away their tears, and band-aid away their pain. How do we know when to act on this instinct? And when to push our internal pause button in order to and give them the space they need to pick themselves back up when they fall and as they get older, lean into other support systems they've developed.
We don't always know. But our hearts will guide us if we really listen.
What Would You Do If You Weren't Afraid? Here's What I Did
The Self-Care Solution--The Journey Continues
Truth: Just a few years ago, public speaking and panic attacks went hand in hand for me. And I still feel a bit of terror, which can feel like I want to throw up cry or die, or some combination of the three before every radio or TV interview, book talk, workshop, or book club that I do. But each time the fear sets in, I engage in some very serious stare-downs with my insecurities and move through it because I have to. Because I have experienced incredible changes over the course of writing and launching The Self-Care Solution, changes that need to be shared with as many mothers as I can reach. So, I will keep doing my own work so that I can share the messages of hope, healing, self-love and self-care.
The Self-Care Solution journey has been and continues to be life-changing. I have met so many incredibly bright, brave, and thoughtful people throughout this process, who inspire me every day to live my life with more kindness and passion, which goes hand and hand with showing kindness and compassion toward oneself. Through sharing my own story, I have connected with people who are more willing to share their truths. Like the woman who sat in my living room on a Sunday afternoon as she told me about how she raised two boys as a single mom, working three jobs to put them through private school. She shared her view on self-care, "Self-care doesn't have to cost money. It doesn't have to be about getting a massage or going to the gym. When my boys were young, my self-care was talking on the phone to my girlfriends I've had since high school and bitching about our kids or whatever was on our minds. That kept me sane." She also told me that leaving her husband was also an act of self-care."
Doing this work makes me more acutely aware of myself and of those around me. It makes me feel like I want to reach out and hug every mom I see and tell her, "Do the self-care work. Really. You will surprise yourself with how strong you really are, and how strong you can become. You may need to make some changes in your life. And it won't be easy. But you are SO worth it! And your family needs you to believe that!"
But as with most things in life, self-care is a continual work in progress, and it is rarely a smooth, straight, or easy path. As I work to better secure my own boundaries (my biggest self-care challenge), I have experienced push-back from my kids (and just a tiny bit from my beloved husband). My kids are less than amused with my new mantra, "There is a new sheriff in town." But behind their eye rolls, I can see that they do understand the necessary shift.
They get that I expect them to step up to the plate of their lives, and that I need to step back from them a bit so I can step more solidly into my life, my work, my relationship with my husband and friends. And while they probably can't fully comprehend the importance of this type of movement, they trust me, and they trust my love for and devotion to them. I assure them that even though this shift may feel like the harder path, we all will be happier, healthier, and more compassionate humans if we can stay the course and support one another along the way.
So, as we move through this back to school transition, and I say goodbye to my college kids (btw, if you are looking for me on Friday, I will be binge-listening to books on tape and Ted Talks during the 10-hour drive to Michigan with my daughter), I know my heart will ache and tears will flow with those excruciating last goodbye hugs.
But now more than ever I feel exceedingly grateful that my kids know how to take good care of themselves. There is nothing more rewarding and comforting for a parent than to see your child treating her/himself and those around him with love, respect, and care.
And who better to teach them how to do this than you?
And what better way to teach them than by showing them how it's done?
Wishing you all a smooth back to school transition that is, of course, filled with lots of self-care and self-love!
Reframing Self-Care with a Full House, Full Mind, and Full Heart
"It must be so amaaaazing having all four of your kids under one roof again," is the question of the month since my oldest son arrived home from his freshman year in college, and oldest daughter breezed in from her five-month college junior "study" (or is it "touring"?) abroad program.
"Oh yesssss," I concur. "It is just the BEST!"
And I am telling the truth. Mostly.
It goes without saying that I love my family unit. I love the feeling of completeness I feel when the six of us are together. Seeing my four kids interact with one another can be downright heart-melting (and yes, the teasing can be mortifying). But I love how the six of us fit together—each family member with his or her own distinct personality set within the building blocks of our ever-evolving family unit.
While I try to bask in the euphoria of family wholeness, it is only a matter of time before the challenges I encountered while mothering all four kids in my home for ten years inevitably find a way to bubble to the surface again, and I can see very clearly that there is indeed a time when adult children need to fly the coop.
Not only are there more dishes in the sink, crumbs on the kitchen counter, clothes in the washer and dryer, wet towels on bedroom floors, shoes sprawled all over the mudroom, various items of clothing and shoes missing from my closet (usually my favorite ones that I was planning to wear as I realize they have "disappeared"), cars rolling in and out of our driveway at any given hour, teenagers and 20-somethings eating every morsel of available food in the fridge, freezer, and pantry, texts sent to me at any time of the day or night including the hours between midnight and 5 a.m.) begrudgingly alerting me of my college kids' whereabouts ("Mom, you don't know where I am when I am at college! Why do you need me to tell you now? Don't you trust me?") Oh, and did I mention the arguing and the YELLING? Well, there is much more of those too!
So, in the flurry trying to manage my family of six, my writing and teaching work, and launching a new book, I am reminded of what prompted me to write The Self-Care Solution in the first place.
Self-care is so damn hard!
Part of my self-care journey over the past few years was to let go of my two older kids in a healthy way, which was far from easy for me, and to reestablish my life with the younger two at home. It took a lot of time, soul searching, and hard work for me to do this. But by using the physical, emotional, and relational self-care tools outlined in the book, I stayed true to myself, set appropriate boundaries, and advocated for my need to work and create, I did it. And lo and behold, I was finally able to accomplish what I had set out to do decades earlier—finish my book on self-care and continue to practice what I preach.
But what I have realized over these past several hectic weeks is that our self-care work as moms is never done, and we will be challenged over and over again to hang onto our sense of self while mothering our children.
Having all four kids home triggered some old stuff for me. Negative patterns of thinking and acting popped up. I found myself worrying about and micro-managing my kids far more than necessary—trying in vain to find some control amidst the inevitable chaos and discomfort of this transitional time. I have found myself frustrated that I am not writing enough, or practicing yoga or meditating the way I need to be.
And then I remember. These are my continual self-care work-ons, and it is indeed a marathon not a sprint. I remind myself we all have our own work-ons and triggers that threaten to throw us moms off center. But there are three things that remain constant for all of us:
1. Someone will always need us.
2. No one is going to hand over the time and space
we need to take care of ourselves.
3. We need to be intentional about caring for ourselves
or we are not able to take care of our family the way we want to.
So, in trying to embrace this short period of time when all my kids are back in the nest (my oldest leaves for an out-of-state internship on Friday), instead of thinking about all the ways I am "failing" at self-care, I realized that I am forgetting one huge component of self-care—self-compassion.
My self-care may look and feel a little different right now, and that is okay. I need to embrace what is good—the wonderful walk I took with my cousin Joy this Memorial weekend; dancing during the fun (albeit excruciating) Kayla work-outs that my oldest daughter led me through; watching my two daughters, 10 years apart, giggle like best friends; the warm hugs I receive regulary from both of my sons, and the gratitude I felt in spending time with my husband, friends, and family over the long weekend.
Sometimes self-care can be simply a matter of reframing. Letting go of what we think self-care "should" be, releasing ourselves from expectations and the frustrations of what is not, and opening ourselves up to the joy and the beauty of what is.
During this busy time of transitioning from spring to summer, when school is ending, graduations are occurring, college kids are coming home, soccer, lacrosse, and baseball are in full swing, and the to-do lists threaten to overpower us every day, can you carve out five minutes a day, even in your car, to find compassion for yourself, to say something nice to yourself, to tell yourself you are doing the best you can, and that you are indeed good enough? Can you breathe deeply, taking it all in, and then letting it all go?
Yes you can.
This is the real work of self-care.
The Rope Burns of Motherhood and Self-Care
Rounding the Bend To 2016—Year of Book Release and Turning 50
As I celebrated turning 49 a few weeks ago and my 2016 resolutions are set and in motion (1: better time management and 2: better cooking), I found it interesting to look at my last year's birthday post, and reflect on the changes that have occurred. Many of the milestones I talked about in future terms like leaving my oldest son in California for his college freshman year; my oldest daughter turning 21, my husband turning 50, my youngest daughter starting middle school; and attending my 30-year high school reunion, all happened. And I "wrote" a piece about each one—all of the details, how I felt, and what I learned. Some of these made it into my journals, some onto my blog, but most remained in the form of swirling sentences in my head, either because I needed to push those sentences aside to keep my focus on finalizing The Self-Care Solution, or because publishing those stories would infringe on my children's privacy. But each one of them caused me to pause, reflect, appreciate, and ponder, usually only for brief moments—on my yoga mat, on a walk, or in a conversation with a friend. Because life moves forward, even when we want it to slow down just a bit so we can savor certain moments a little longer. Two notable 2015 moments when I did slow down to reflect and ponder turned into pivotal milestones for me personally and professionally. Lunch with a friend evolved into revealing the details of my teenage battle with an eating disorder on Jordana Green's radio show, which gave me a small dose of what it feels like to be extremely vulnerable (terrifying) in an effort to try to help others (highly rewarding). These mixed feeling are ones that I will be continually grappling with in 2016 with the release of my book, and so I was grateful to Jordana for her encouragement, and for allowing me to share my story. And I am also grateful for so many amazing people in my life (you--friends, family, blog readers) who were so incredibly positive and supportive of me doing so. Thank you!
Another 2015 lunchtime casual conversation turned game-changer was with my dear friend Nina Badzin. The development and formulation of The Twin Cities Writing Studio has been true highlight. We have been blown away by the incredible women who have gathered around the table with us to write, learn, reflect, support, and inspire one another. It is truly an honor to be doing this work, and Nina and I are excited to introduce some new programs for 2016 that will engage more Twin Citians who want to put pen to paper—aka "writers"—(stay tuned). Thrilled to be starting our winter session this week!
The central 2015 milestone, of course, has been the completion The Self-Care Solution. And while achieving this life-long dream of writing a book feels incredible, what has surprised me the most is the deep sense of responsibility I feel to continue this ever-so-important discussion on motherhood and self-care. In other words, this book is only the beginning! It is essential to me that I help as many mothers as possible understand that self-care is your life-saving and life-enhancing apparatus as you ride the inevitable, unpredictable, beautiful, and agonizing waves of motherhood.
"The only way that a mother can truly be present, engaged, connected, and nurturing with her child is if she is present, engaged, connected, and nurturing with herself. And the only way she can be connected with herself is if she does what she needs to do to care for herself in an honest and meaningful manner. This is the true essence of self-care for mothers." –The Self-Care Solution
There is a certain irony that the year that book is released is the year that that I (g-d-willing) hit a half century. Life chapters are concluding and new ones are being written, and the pages keep turning. And sometimes I am deeply afraid—afraid of getting older, afraid of losing...youth, loved ones, time on this earth (more on my feelings about aging in another post...). But there is much to look forward to, including moving into a completely unknown territory with the release of my book. I will move from talking about writing and releasing the book to actually having people read it and formulate opinions about it. And this scares me too. But in the words of Brene' Brown, "Daring greatly is being brave and afraid every minute of the day at the exact same time." So, I will dare greatly, commit to staring down my fears, and allow myself to feel excited about what is in store for this monumental year.
A few of the 2016 highlights that are already in motion are: unscriptedmom.com soon will become juliebburton.com; several fun book launch events will happen in the spring (more details to follow and I hope you will come!), and believe it or not, I have already started outlining my next book (gulp).
So yes, rounding the bend from 2015 to 2016 feels like a big turn.
But I continue to draw from my past experiences, and other life changes, challenges, and turning points that I've pushed through and grown from (like hiking the 13,000 feet to reach the top of Pikes Peak in 2009). I continue to find gratitude in all the twists and turns that life has to offer, and to remind myself of Ben Franklin's simple yet profound message about embracing transitions: "When you're finished changing, you're finished."
So, here we are 2016—bring on the changes!
Wishing you all a happy, healthy, and prosperous 2016 filled with lots of self-care and exciting changes! I am grateful to be on this journey with you!
(Ready to make 2016 a year of taking good care of yourself physically, emotionally and relationally? Start by pre-ordering The Self-Care Solution--A Modern Mother's Essential Guide to Health and Well-Being!)
Embracing My New Normal—A Half Full And Half Empty Nest
Is it normalthat when I say goodbye, a huge chunk of myself leaves with you?
Is it normal that I'm happy, thrilled, relieved, excited, depressed, sad, confused, conflicted, all at the same time?
Is it normal to both overidentify and actively, consciously, choose to separate my emotions from yours so that I can get through my day? ….
Is it normal to feel that our house is so quiet despite having multiple kids still living at home?"
-Excerpt from Ruchi Koval's "To My Grown-up Kids"
As the leaves begin to change and the cooler air sets in, I become keenly aware of the many transitions in my own life. I am still working to find my new normal. Adjusting to the very different vibe that exists in our house since sending off our college freshman and college junior to their respective colleges in late August. Quite frankly, the vibe is a bit calmer, less intense, and less chaotic. My husband and I are embracing this time to focus more energy and attention on our two younger children, on each other, and on ourselves when we can.
As wonderful as many aspects of this transition have been, there are some days when the energy shift in my house feels completely counterintuitive and deeply painful.
I find myself staring at the black car parked in our driveway. I can still hear the inappropriate music that blasted from within as my older kids zipped in and out at every hour of the day and night. I can see my younger kids hopping in the back seat, their heavy backpacks in tow, thrilled to be riding to school with their big brother or sister.
Now I drive my younger kids to school in my car, and play appropriate music at an acceptable volume (to me). The black car remains empty, stagnant in its spot in the driveway. It has done its job, served its purpose. It's no longer an essential, integral part of my older kids' daily lives. It is needed less and less frequently.
I feel a kinship with the black car.
Even though the black car (and I) are are less of a focal point for my older kids, this is what I truly hoped for them—to be in the driver's seat of their own lives (and eventually of their own car that they buy with their own money). However, for now I know that my older kids are grateful that their trusted, loyal black car (and me) are there for them when they need it, and that they will be thrilled to see it (and me) when they get home.
I feel the chilliness of this transition when I enter either of the two unoccupied bedrooms in our house. Scanning my older kids' rooms, I take in the remnants of their lives that they left behind, and I am overcome with a sense of happiness, gratitude, longing, and loss. Happiness and gratitude for the wonderful memories I have of mothering them in my home; the longing to resurrect some of those memories and to linger more in the time spent with them; and the loss of being physically connected to the daily rhythm of their lives.
Coming to terms with the inevitable physical and emotional separation that occurs when kids leave home has been an uncomfortable and challenging process for me, as it is for almost every mom who I have talked to who has sent kids off to college. Typically, the college kids propel us through this process whether we are ready or not because during the limited number of phone minutes college kids allow for, they will only answer a few of our questions before they ever-so-politely interrupt with, "Gotta go, mom! Off to dinner with friends!"
And they're gone. And we are left with seven other questions that we really wanted to ask, in addition to a few follow-up questions on the questions they did answer. Most often we are left to try to piece together a picture of their life away from home, and pray that the full picture, which we are no longer have a full grasp of, is happy, productive, and fulfilling for them.
Learning how to accept the unknowns and the ambiguity that comes with with parenting adult children from afar, coupled with the uncertainty of how we fit into their present and future lives is an ongoing process that requires patience and trial and error. But for me, probably the most important and challenging aspect of this transition is trusting that the unfaltering, unconditional love I feel for my older children will stay with them always, helping them to feel secure and grounded, and that our connection, no matter how many miles between us or how many of my questions go unanswered, will remain solid and strong.
Trusting this bond is essential, as it allows me the freedom to let go a little more, exhale more fully, and open up more space in my heart and mind to embrace the present moment, my two younger children, my husband, and the beautiful life that is right in front of me.
This is my new normal. And it feels okay.
Spring Meltdowns and New Beginnings
Since late February when I had the honor of being a guest on Jordana Green's radio show to tell my story as part of National Eating Disorders Week, I have been on a bit of a blogging hiatus. The spring months have always been tricky for me, especially in the last several years. And while this spring has been filled with all sorts of wonderful transitions, they are transitions nonetheless; and change is not my strong suit. There are my internal changes that include, but are not limited to, a certain chemical combustion occurring within my body that cranks up my temperature to a mere 90,000 degrees (especially at 3 a.m.) and turns the thoughts in my brain onto a high-speed, continuous spin cycle, for which I cannot seem to find the "off" switch. And there are the external changes that include, but are not limited to surviving yet another senior spring break trip (can I be grandmothered out of the next two?), my oldest son deciding to head to across the country to California for college, my baby turning 11 (just days after a shower door fell on her and broke her wrist...I know, alert the authorities), my husband turning 50 (and yes, of course he recently joined a band), and my oldest daughter finishing her sophomore year of college and returning home for the summer.
So while the internal changes make it a little more challenging to roll with and enjoy all of the exciting external changes, I am doing my best (thank goodness for yoga). And although I am not blogging as regularly as I would like to be, I am still writing. A lot. Submitting 5,000 words a week to my amazing editor at She Writes Press so that my book on self-care for moms can head to the publisher and then finally into moms' hands.
And there are few other fun items to report: At the end of April, I had an incredible experience of being among dozens of Minnesota writers, comedians and musicians who performed at Rebecca Bell Sorensen and Laurie Lindeen's Morningside After Dark Series.
The spring theme was "Melt With You" and the piece I read, "The Season of Melting and Letting Go" is published in The Mid (with a slightly different title) is about how the spring season parallels my process of letting my son, a high school senior, go. Lastly, I was hired to write a Mother's Day article for AskMen.Com about how men can win the approval of their wife's or girlfriend's mother. While I initially found it exciting to have a 20-something male editor email me and say that he thinks I would be a good person to write this and ask if I would be interested, when I began to write the piece, I felt something different…I felt old. But it also opened up my mind to how exciting the next phase of motherhood will (hopefully) be. Welcoming significant others and eventual spouses into the family —Even more "kids" to love!
But for now, and for the next several weeks of "May Madness," I will try to remember to breathe amidst the flurry of finals, baseball and soccer games, grad parties and another school year coming to a close. And on June 4th, when my oldest son walks down the aisle to accept his high school diploma, I will be cheering him on (most likely through tears) as he transitions from the first chapter of his life to his next. And I look forward to seeing what this next chapter brings...
"In the end, only three things matter: how much you loved, how gently you lived, and how gracefully you let go of things not meant for you." -Buddah
It's Play Time! Thrilled to be a Part of the "28 Days Of Play" Project!
So honored and excited to be a part of Rachel Cedar's 28 Days of Play 2015! In the writing of my piece, it was a true gift to be able to reflect back on the past two decades of play with my four children. I realized how powerful this topic is and how many different angles there were for me to explore when writing about my relationship to play. How I play, why I play, why I don't play, how technology has changed the nature of play, how I love to play, and yet how I dread it sometimes, how I know how important it is and yet how sometimes I just can't find it in me are just some of the areas that I found myself lingering. Rachel's exciting, relatable, inspiring, and transformative project has provided mothers a with a platform to share their experiences with other moms who grapple with similar issues surrounding play. The 28 Days of Play 2014 contributors beautifully explored many of the above-mentioned topics and then some, and I can't wait to read the thoughts and insights of the 2015 authors! Again, I am thrilled to be able to share my perspective on play among this group of talented writers and thinkers.
Kick off is Monday, February 2nd! Please join in the fun!
Not Yet 50, but Way Past 40-Something. What is 48 to Me?
There is a new trend in the blogging world. Blog posts and even books that mark moments or periods of time like, "This is Childhood," "This is Adolescence," and "This is (My) 39." They make time stand still by describing the real, raw aspects of the designated age or stage. As I inch closer to 50, I find myself stepping back and looking at my life, potentially about half-way over, or half way lived, or have way begun, depending on your vantage point. I have grappled with my feelings about getting older and realize that while I get ready to add a 48th candle to my birthday cake, I feel the need to do what all writers do: analyze and reflect. Forty-eight means something different to everyone, but this is what 48 is to me: It is NOSTALGIA. The nostalgia of the days when I could pick up my son, now a man/child, and hold him in my arms and tell him that I can make it all better; the days when all four of my children lived in my house with me. It is the nostalgia of my childhood memories, before husband, before children—the prehistoric days when all of the neighborhood kids played kick the can until dark and my parents didn't know where I was; when phones were attached to walls, and there were no ipods, ipads, internet, social media, or botox; and there were vinyl records, 8-track and cassette tapes, the Grateful Dead, Love Boat, Fantasy Island, Charlie's Angels, and Starsky and Hutch, and my sister and me fighting for the best TV viewing spot on our green couch.
It is COVER-UP. Watching women around me tighten, plump, nip and tuck and wondering if I should too. It is spending too many dollars on "age-defying" products that are marketed to ME because I am the age that society wants to defy. It is knowing that in trying to cover up the wrinkles and the sagging, I am desperately trying to hang onto something that is slipping away, and no matter how much healthy food, water and vitamins I ingest, how much exercise I do, what clothes I wear or how I color and style my hair, the "something" that is inevitably leaving me is called—YOUTH! And there is no stopping its exit.
It is SEARCHING. Searching for the meaning of life. For the meaning of my life. Searching for my roots, for spirituality, for Judaism. It is studying with an Orthodox rabbi and joining a Reform synagogue. It is grappling with my identity, as a woman, a wife, a mother, a sister, a daughter, a friend, a Jew, a writer, a reader, a yogi, a volunteer, a teacher and a student.
It is DISORIENTING. With four kids at very different life stages: college, high school, junior high and grade school. Disorienting with the reality that I on a given day, I can be managing a play date for one daughter and listening to details about a sorority date party from the other. Disorienting to have just celebrated one son's Bar Mitzvah and to soon be celebrating my other son's high school graduation. Disorienting to think that my oldest daughter will graduate college within a month of my youngest daughter's Bat Mitzvah, and that I could potentially be a grandma at my youngest child's high school graduation. Disorienting to be planning for my 30-year high school reunion when I can so easily access vivid details (many of them embarrassing) of those powerful high school years, as if they happened yesterday.
It is UNCERTAINTY. Uncertainty about whether I made the right choice to leave my career and stay home with my kids (I am pretty sure I did). Uncertainty about whether I should go back to work. Uncertainty about who would even hire me now. Uncertainty about decisions, big and small, that I made and make for my kids and myself every day. Uncertainty about why bad things happen to good people, why I have lost friends and family members too soon. Uncertainty about the future; about being empty nester; about getting old, as in really old; uncertainty about death and how I will go down—will my mind go first or will my body fail me, or will I die in a plane crash (um, yes, one of my biggest fears in life...)?
It is PERIMENOPAUSE. It is crazy! It is crying and swearing and not remembering why I walked into the living room or where I was driving to, or why I was even mad at my husband this morning. It is exhausted…for no good reason. It is worry and obsessing, and worrying and obsessing some more. It is Prozac and Lexapro and the allure of taking the "happy pill" to calm the crazies, but opting instead for a weekly writing group, meditation, yoga and an available-when-needed therapist.
It is WORK. My work: writing, teaching yoga, and serving the community, which makes very little money but keeps me somewhat sane. My husband's work that he does too much of to be able to support all of the kids and me so I that I can make sure that everyone in the family has clean underwear, decent meals, and some structure and fun in their lives, which happens most of the time, but definitely not all of the time.
It is LETTING GO. Letting go of what I think I should have been—an author of six successful books, a renowned public relations guru (my occupation before kids), a psychologist (my "I should have been/wish I would have been" career), and trying, trying, trying to accept who I am. It is letting my kids go, off to junior high, high school, off to drive a car, off to college. Letting go of the idea that I can control the outcome of their lives, and maybe even the outcome of my own life.
It is TRANSITION. Transition from being not yet old but not young either; from being a young parent with my oldest child to an older parent with my youngest. Transition of caring for aging parents. Transition of my own aging process, which blurs my thinking, my vision and my hearing, and yet, has prompted me to become more patient, more intentional, more compassionate and more present, with myself and with others. Transition of walking mindfully through my life, instead of running through or from it.
It is GRATITUDE. Gratitude for my blessed life and the amazing people in it. Gratitude that I stuck it out and continue to stick it out with my husband, in spite of many extremely trying times. Gratitude for my health, and for the health of those I love and care about. Gratitude that after years of sleepless nights, changing diapers, taming tantrums, tween angst and teenage drama, and the pain, panic and exhilaration of sending one off to college, I can now offer my voice of experience for newer moms.
It is ACCEPTANCE. Acceptance of childhood scars, anxiety, depression, addiction, fear and loneliness; being able to stare down my demons and tell them to go to hell, and accepting that sometimes they listen and sometimes they don't; and looking honestly at dysfunction—mine, my family's, and my friends', and finding compassion in all of it. Acceptance of my imperfect self that struggles with time management, organization and taking direction from others, but is driven and caring, and loves to give, and loves to love. Acceptance of dreams fulfilled, unfulfilled, and dreams that remain. Acceptance that life is really, really amazing and fun, and really, really hard and painful.
It is FREEDOM. Freedom to invest more energy in people, work and causes that ground, comfort and inspire me. Freedom to exit relationships that drain me. Freedom to be me, to practice self-care and self-compassion, to trust myself and others, to confidently use my voice, written and spoken, to tell my truth, to be vulnerable, and to encourage others to do the same.
It is THE MOMENT. Slowing down enough to understand that it is this moment that really matters, and believing that we are all exactly where we are supposed to be right now. It is taking time on my yoga mat or in meditation to quiet down the mind chatter and focus on the power of now. It is watching my kids, truly watching them, and listening to them, and seeing them for who they really are, with their struggles, with their attitudes, and with their independent, creative minds and their loving hearts. It is no longer rushing to get to the next phase of their lives or mine, but wanting time to stand still. Really. Just to be able to press pause. For a moment. So I can take it all in and cherish it.
It is LOVE. Love for my husband of 23 years, love for each one of my very unique, and very lovable kids, who have taught me more about life and love in the past 20 years of being a mother than I ever imagined possible. Love for my parents and mother-in-law who have shown me what it means to age gracefully, and that love, giving and receiving, is the most important thing in this life; and for my extended family and friends, both old and new, who continue to enrich my life each day, as each day becomes more and more precious.
It is knowing that every single day is a gift.
This is my 48.
The Start of Letting My Son Go
I had to let go. That firey feeling in my throat and heart like a bomb was about to explode in my chest told me I had to let go. Even though I hate letting go. Because I am really good at putting every piece of myself into mothering my children but I am terrible at the letting go part. I look at the pile of clothes on my floor and I can't will myself to put them away. Those clothes were supposed to be moved into a suitcase—a suitcase that I would need for my much anticipated trip with my son to visit a college in California. But there was no need to move the clothes into the suitcase. And no need to put the clothes away right now and dig the knife into my heart any further.
I am not going on the trip to CA with my son. He begged to have his dad take him instead. "Mom, I have a baseball tryout, I really need dad there. You don't lose any money because you used miles for your ticket. Dad wasn't going to be able to go because of work but now he can go. I hope you can understand that it's not personal. This is not about you."
Understand that it is not personal. It's not about me. Except that it is. It is because I was looking forward to spending this time with him. Because he is slipping away. Because it is his last year at home. Because as hard as I try not to, I am doing the countdown, noticing the "lasts," while trying to hang onto the now—the time he is still living in the house. Because I thought I would be better at all of this with him, my second child, a boy. I really should be better. His older sister, now a college sophomore, had already taught me how to say goodbye…twice…
But I am NOT better. And he knows it. And it is too much for him.
He can't be too close to emotions right now and I represent the emotions. He can't be too close to the parent who talks about feelings and love and compassion. This is a dangerous and scary place for a 17-year-old boy to be. And even though his wife will thank me some day, right now I am a distraction from his mission—his mission to become a MAN. To prove that he is strong and capable and able to stand on his own ready to exit the nest—without his mom. And his mission in CA is to perform—to shine on the baseball field and to be sharp during his admissions interview. He needs to think, not feel. He needs to put his Game Face on. And dad is most definitely the Game Face guy.
But where does that leave me? In unknown territory. Adult son and his mother. A mother who needs to let go, and a son who is telling her to start now. She tells herself to trust that that her son loves her, that he will always appreciate having her as his mother, and that letting go doesn't mean completely disconnecting from him—growing further and further apart so that eventually he will merely tolerate her, as is the case with so many grown men and their mothers she knows. It will be different. It has to be different. She tells herself all of this as she stares down at the pile of clothes that will not make it into her suitcase.
And maybe he is right. Maybe dad is the one to take him to CA. Because dad doesn't look at him and allow nostalgia to plow him over—seeing a little boy who cried non-stop for the first 6 months of his life and then could not bear to be more than an arm's length away from his mom. His dad does not feel, or certainly does not display, the ache of the snap back to the present moment when I see that this little boy is all grown up—and he doesn't cry and does not want to be within an arm's length of his mom. My son doesn't see the pain of the inevitable separation all over his dad's face like he sees it all over mine. My face is not a Game Face. My face reveals the love I feel for my son, and shows signs of the pain in my heart felt by a mother who hates letting go.
But the train is leaving the station and I can't stop it. My son is getting ready to board the train. He went to CA with my husband. Readying me for the start of letting him go. Maybe I could start real simply—by putting away that pile of clothes on my floor.
Lingering More, Panicking Less—My True Test for the Next Three Weeks
Tis the season, for me anyway. I find fall to be, by far, the most transformative season: back to school, bracing for the MN winter, celebrating the high holidays, loaded with symbols of starting anew, letting go, forgiving, and looking forward. This fall feels even bigger. It feels huge. It feels loaded with stuff to be grateful for, to celebrate, stuff that involves new beginnings and exciting transitions in my kids' lives and my life. But when I wake up with a racing heart and mind, and I start and stop writing multiple blog posts because none of them make sense, and I find myself scanning the Target parking lot for my car that I have zero recollection of parking, let alone driving there, I know that I am not embracing this transformative time, but racing through it. I am anywhere but here. Just ask my mom. She will tell you how I forgot that she was coming to pick up my daughter at school last week during conferences so she ended up wandering the halls of the school looking for my daughter for 45 minutes before running into my son, who directed her to my daughter. But I didn't have a clue this was happening because, during that time, I was darting from classroom to classroom, like a harried teenager, hearing the voices of my kids' teachers saying lovely things about my children, and I was feel'n pretty good and I may have had a moment of, "Okay, great, I must be doing something right." Until, of course, I walked out of the math teacher's room and spotted my mom, her eyes looking slightly puzzled and slightly pissed. "Nope. Never mind. I am not doing much of anything right."
I am in the moment and a million miles away. Preparing for A's Bar Mitzvah in three weeks and helping J with his college applications, due in three weeks; gearing up for my first ever self-care workshop that I am co-leading in two weeks and preparing yet another (please let this be the last), revision of my book outline that is, just guess, due to a publisher in 10 days. I am coming off of the high holidays, during which we attended not one, not two but three synagogues—a reformed, a conservative and an orthodox (I will save those details for another blog post); and S came home from college for Yom Kippur, which somewhat resembled a wonderful, exciting, but sometimes jolting, electric storm lighting up our house.
I'm in the moment and into panic in a matter of seconds. I question whether I will be able to pull off these next three weeks, manage the check list, and get it all done: the Bar Mitzvah details, all 20 zillion of them (thankfully divided between my sister and me, but I still don't know what I am wearing); the writing, for which I require big blocks of time when my mind is calm and clear; providing college application assistance, yet another intended blog post topic, and for which I need more time and more patience, AND my son's time and patience (which doesn't all line up very often); the workshop preparation, which I need to tap into my experience of writing about researching and practicing self-care, while I am stretched to practice what I preach right now.
So I breathe my way back to the moment. And tell myself that yes, this will all happen. I will get through it. But I don't want to just get through it! I want to feel it all, embrace the joy in each one of these milestones. So I drag myself to yoga, ground down, and set an intention to be present. And that works beautifully until that evening when I see my husband packing his suitcase for a three-day work trip. He sees my eyes widen, and then narrow. I expect him to say something calming, reassuring. But instead, he quickly reminds me that he will be traveling for two or three days of each of the next three weeks. Oh yeah, I had forgotten. My heart rate escalates and my mind kicks into high gear and spirals me into piling my entire to-do list into an already overcrowded area of my brain: Shit! The laundry, the dishes, the cooking, the no milk in the fridge and I think we only have one more roll of toilet paper in this house, and the engine light is on in my car, and there are unopened bills hanging out on the kitchen counter, and Jo has a soccer tournament in Rochester and three birthday parties this weekend, and A's big science project is due, and the details of J's college visits in two weeks still need to be finalized, and the senior parent ad for the yearbook is due, and my volunteer positions need attention, and there are a growing number of emails and texts that I have yet to read, let alone respond to...So sorry, my friends, I am trying.
And then I will myself to breathe again. And the spiraling stops as I remind myself that amidst all this mundane, almost whiney sounding to-do list, of which some or most will get done (or it won't), there lies the joyful stuff that trumps it all. And I work my way back to gratitude and the present moment. My husband and I laugh about how we may put our 10-year-old on a Greyhound and send her to Rochester for her soccer tournament, and that we may end up writing A's Bar Mitzvah speech on the way to the synagogue that morning.
I will myself to trust that these next three weeks, with all their splendor and glory, and all of their mundane, will happen. And I will be there/be here. Present. Aware. Engaged. Grateful. I will do this by trying to allow myself to retreat from the lists and the panic, and to move toward lingering in the joy for as long as I can—especially the one that celebrates my baby boy becoming a Jewish adult. Yes, I will most definitely be lingering in that one.
"A Mother's 17-Year-Old Secret" in Brain, Child Magazine
Parenting your teen inevitably stirs up a lot of memories of your own teen years. As you stare in awe at your 15-year-old driving a car for the first time, it can feel like yesterday that you first excitedly and nervously grasped onto the stirring wheel and told your foot to push on the gas pedal. When you catch your teen doing something "teen-like," you may be reminded of the time you snuck out of parents' house in the middle of the night and the dog started barking and gave you away (or maybe...hold breath...you didn't get caught). As you help your teen navigate his or her teen joys and challenges, you will decide how much and what you want to share about your teen self. I have always been cautious with how much of my past I shared with my teens. I would imagine that most of us determine that some (or many) of our teen experiences should never be shared with our children. What we may not be aware of, however, is that some of the "secrets" we bury could be effecting how we parent our teens. "A Mother's Seventeen-Year-Old-Secret" explores the how and why I decided to reveal a piece of my hidden past to my 17-year-old daughter. I am honored and thrilled to have this piece running in one of my favorite motherhood publications/blogs Brain, Child Magazine.
The Agony and the Ecstasy of Being a Parent of an Athlete
I wrote a "slice of life" piece about my son's baseball game last week but felt that it was important to include some personal background to give you some context for the story: Growing up, I was a competitive gymnast, tennis player and golfer. I had a driving force that would send me to the gym, tennis court and driving range for hours on end (Too many injuries pulled me out of gymnastics and I fizzled out of tennis because I simply wasn't good enough). Over time, when I hit a rough spot during my teenage years, my internal drive was still strong but it had shifted. I was motivated more by negative forces than positive ones, and my self talk often sounded like this, "If you don't win, you are worthless, a nothing. Work harder and whatever you do, DON'T FAIL."
Surprise, surprise, those messages, which pounded in my head for years, would ultimately destroy my ability and motivation to compete. I never developed the essential coping mechanisms for dealing with failure that all successful athletes must cultivate for times when they are in a slump, they lose a game or a match, or are not performing at the level to which they are accustomed. My lack of resiliency would explain why after shooting a terrible first round in the state high school golf tournament my junior year, followed by an equally terrible second round, I refused to pick up a golf club for decades.
Which brings me to today. I have now have a son who is a competitive baseball player, and anyone who knows anything about baseball knows that it is game of failure. The best of the best pro baseball players hit the ball three out of every ten times, and the scoreboard has an actual spot that highlights the number of ERRORS the players make (not fouls, like in basketball, but errors-as in how many times you totally screw up). And my son plays two of the most high-pressure positions out there: short stop and pitcher.
I love to watch my son play. But in all honesty, there are times when I think I will explode from the nervous energy that brews within me. As much as I try to push my old demons away, to try and separate my stuff from his, so that I can support him and love him no matter what successes or failures he experiences on the field, there are times when my competitiveness takes some of that joy away. Every single time I find myself feeling stressed or anxious about a game of his, I have to talk myself off the ledge and remind myself that this is my MY fear of failure and MY difficulty in dealing with competition—not his, and that it is crucial that I do not drop my old baggage on him.
I have seen him have moments when he did not deal with failure as well as he wanted to. But watching him work his way through these issues, and find coping and recovery strategies for dealing with failure has provided him with some of his most important life lessons and has been incredibly healing for me.
The Story:
I needed a break. I could tell that my energy wasn't helping him. My perfectionism, my fear of failure, my feeling that I could some how control the outcome of his baseball game by willing him and his team to succeed. It was time for me to separate myself and let him play his game. He was in a slump, had had a tough game the night before, and I felt that my presence at his game was some how hurting him.
Could that be true? What if it was?
The section tournament game—a game not to miss. The team wins, they move on; they lose, they are done. "I'm thinking of sitting this one out, hun," I mentioned to my son the day of the big game, trying to sound casual about it. "It seems like that the games that you played when dad and I were out of town were the best three games of your season. How would you feel if I didn't come? Do you think it's less pressure for you if I am not there," I asked him somewhat tentatively.
"Mom, it doesn't matter if you are there or not. Do what you want," he responded, like a typical 17-year-old.
Ok. Got it. But I still felt unsure. How could I really not go? Would the other parents think I am not supporting him? Am I being crazy? My husband said that it is okay either way. "He knows you love him," David said, trying to ease my tension. And he repeated my son's message, "Do what you need to do," but added, "It will be okay."
My youngest daughter and I headed out to the lake and she jumped thrillingly into the hot tub while I sipped a beer and sat on a deck chair allowing the blazing sun to warm my face and offer me some semblance of calmness. I exhaled and felt like I was a million miles away, and that a million pounds had been lifted off my chest. I knew I could support him better from where I sat; that my energy was positive and detached—not in an "I don't care" kind of way, but in a spirit of letting go and practicing self-care kind of way. It was better for me to not be in the stands riveting with anxiety, and deep down I knew that this was most likely better for him.
But there was that all-too familiar feeling of guilt to reckon with—that frustration with myself and more questioning, "Why can't you just go enjoy your son's game? What kind of mom doesn't go to his son's section baseball game?" Well, I guess this kind of mother, whose 10-year-old daughter splashed in the hot tub, thrilled that she would not be dragged to her millionth baseball game of the season. Thrilled to have time alone with me—a relaxed me (or at least trying to be).
"J just got a hit and drove in a run," my husband's text message popped up on my phone and pulled my eyes away from my daughter, and away from my here and now. I smiled and mindfully tried to stay focused on her, chasing the "I SHOULD be there" thoughts away. "Mom, watch me swim laps! Time me," Jo blared toward me before submerging her entire body under water.
As I a concentrated on my stop watch on my phone, it buzzed again. "They are hitting us like it's batting practice. We are down 6-2," my husband revealed. O.k., another big inhale as my mind turned to the seniors who could be playing their last game, and then jumped ahead to next year when my son would be a senior (oh my!). Then my heart became even heavier as I thought of the 8th grader who made the varsity team and whose dad was rapidly losing his 3-year battle with cancer. Would his dad get to see him play another baseball game?
"Mom! How many laps did I swim?! How fast did I swim them? Mom, come on, please get off your phone!" I peeled my eyes away from my hand held device and back to the here and now. Back to my daughter's youth and innocence—a reminder that despite the fact that life is filled with all different kinds of losses, there is also so much joy. I was reminded that it is okay to sit back sometimes and allow myself to just be, and to take care of myself, and trust that my son knows how very important he is to me, and how much I love and believe in him, no matter where I am or where he is. I hoped that all my children feel this.
"Twenty-five laps in 35 seconds! Best yet," I shouted loud and proud, as if she had just beaten Michael Phelps' record (there I go again!).
My phone vibrated. That magical and yet baneful piece of plastic and metal, which has the power to instantly pull me out of the present and split me in two—I'm here but I'm there—which is actually kind of nowhere. I should just turn it off. Yep, I'm turning it off. I grabbed the phone out of my pocket and positioned my finger on the power button. As I started to press down, I glanced down for a split second as the words flew off the screen and and hit me on the head.
"J hit a home run."
My eyes filled with tears and my heart began to pound so loudly I was sure my daughter could hear it from under water.
"No way," I managed to type, half wondering if my husband was telling me the truth. My son had never hit a home run.
"Yep, first of his career," my husband revealed (as if I didn't know).
My daughter looked at me and asked me what was wrong. "Honey, you need to dry off, we are going for a ride," I told her, and continued to explain to her about her brother's milestone and that I just needed to be there when he walked off the field.
As we drove out to catch the last few innings of the game, I felt at peace. I didn't know if he would have hit his first home run if I had been in the stands that night. But it didn't really matter. I was truly and completely happy for him. And I was happy that I was able to let go and create some healthy space for myself and for my son.
This was a victory in and of itself.


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Feb 18
Most of you know that I have a heart for the people of Iceland. Iceland is largely secular (as you will see from this documentary below), but there are embers of real faith bubbling like lava under the surface. I was encouraged by this. The video is about 50 minutes long, so in place of watching one of your favorite reality shows tonight, replace it with time watching this. May God bless you as you do!

subset: commoncrawl


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Join Me in Supporting a Campaign to Fund a Super Bowl Ad on Climate Change/
"America is the biggest polluter in history. Yet only one in eight Americans know there's a consensus among the scientific community that global warming is caused by humans. Together, we can raise awareness in front of 110 million Americans about global warming and let our people know what's at stake. Because only when we acknowledge the problem can we truly fight it."
Source: Adweek
This is a great campaign that nicely shows the convergence of influencer and cause marketing, newsjacking and crowdfunding.
Pro skier Julian Carr wants to educate the majority of Americans who don't know that global warming is caused by humans. To accomplish this, he's launched a Kickstarter to fund a Super Bowl ad that will educate 110 million Americans about global warming.
Team, this is a big idea that deserves our attention. This is an important message that deserves to be in front of the largest TV audience of the year. But it will cost over $5 million for the spot!
Donate to the campaign here.


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Post-race analysis
This week I have been...
...racing. Okay, not racing, just having loads of fun whilst covering fourteen kilometres of my favourite city and winding up at beautiful Bondi Beach. So that was nice.
Several months ago, I wrote this post. Then did nothing. I started my Xtend Barre aka ballet classes the week before I signed up for the Sydney City2Surf 14k and, well, ballet has completely dominated my exercise regime from that point onward, to the exclusion of all other activities. The intention was to complete the City2Surf run too. But injury fears meant that I soon decided to forgo the run in favour of staying injury-free and being able to continue pirouetting my way through life. Very sensible.
Fast forward to the end of July. I started getting emails from the organisers – not long now! – and thinking about how the run was nearly here. And about how much I love medals. I also thought about the fact that I had never run anywhere close to 14k ever. And about my original reason for pulling out, which was still absolutely valid. Also the fact that I am in the middle of a second 20/30 ballet challenge: already testing the body a lot at present.
Eventually I came to a compromise: I would walk the route. The City2Surf is whatever you want it to be: more than 80,000 people signed up for this year's, the average time to complete it is close to two hours and there are starting groups to accommodate all abilities. Worst case scenario: I'd be walking for three hours (average human walking pace 5kph) with poor calves through beautiful, awe-inspiring Sydney. There are worse ways to spend a Sunday morning.
Getting ready was great fun. I love running gear. I wore my Skins compression tights (pink and black), Lululemon Athletica shorts (with digital sunset print), purple vest (now with serious pin holes in), fluorescent yellow Asics run socks and my so-pretty-they-nearly-make-me-cry Asics Gel Nimbus. I am in love with these trainers.
Oh dear, I just stopped writing to have a think about them. They're unbelievable! Do forgive me if I illustrate this post with a dozen pics of my trainers. You may be lucky: it's evening here and photographs are better in natural light (top tip for you there), so I'll probably eschew the photo bit in favour of posting this tonight. They really are spectacular, though.
Okay, enough about my trainers. Bib on, watch on (2 min intervals set in case I fancied a mini-run now and then), water bottle on (no water station/Gatorade stops for me), SPF lip balm, sunscreen and keys in pouch, money zipped in shorts. Time to go.
Left home at 7am and caught the ferry into the city. Felt sublime and happy with my decision to take part.
Got to Hyde Park well ahead of my start time, as recommended. Watched the group before me set off: 25,000 people! Took around 45 minutes for them all to pass the start line; it was wonderful to witness.
Some annoying inflatable balls were being batted around above our heads at the start line: one of the sponsors had arranged these. Kept seeing people being shocked after getting hit on the back of the head by them: I'll see if I can get these banned next year :)
Mmm, it's awesome reliving yesterday (even including inflatable irritation). So the gun went off and I looked up to see pop star Redfoo DJing for us. The perfect start!
Other musical highlights included the police band playing the theme from Rocky, the YMCA pumping out, a metal band playing Enter Sandman on a rooftop and a second brass band playing Thriller.
I had such a good time and can thoroughly recommend signing up to a fun run. I'm living proof that you don't need to train and they still give you a medal!
Oh, by the way, I changed tactic completely at the start line. Everyone started running and I automatically ran, too. Then I was running uphill and thought that probably wasn't going to be great for precarious legs. So I adopted an excellent strategy of walking uphill and running downhill and flats. I did have a dodgy two kilometres between 9 and 11k where I think I must have hit what runners call the 'wall', but I just walked until I felt okay again.
I loved being surrounded by so many people. Although it would have been cool if people followed the race etiquette to move to the left if walking, it was okay – I wasn't going for a fast time and a couple of times I stopped and forgot to move over first, so it was completely understandable.
If you're thinking a run sounds fun but you couldn't stand being held up by people blocking you the whole way, don't let it put you off – there are often different groups to start in that don't have walkers. And not every run has as many people in as the Sydney City2Surf: that is one huge event.
I feel as though I have banged on for ages about the race. It was a truly magnificent achievement, however, and I am still feeling euphoric about it. I should probably add that I am a bit stiff today, my hip aches and my knees felt mildly sore whilst walking round the supermarket. Tomorrow may be a different story. On the whole, though, for zero training and a distance I have never come close to before, I am in excellent shape and the blissful mental state outweighs any amount of pain anyway. An absolute dream day. So excited for next year (am totally going to train for that one)! Thanks for reading x


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My wife has been battling an eating disorder for over ten years. She spent time at two different treatment facilities that only provided short term results. They never got to the core of the problem.
When her condition reached a critical point and I feared for her life, we found out about the incredible work being done in Denver by Dr. Gaudiani. In a matter of days, we got on a plane and flew across the country to Denver. Upon arriving, we were met by Dr. G's incredible team who helped my wife settle in and a short time later we met Dr. Gaudiani. She was the most compassionate, honest and trust worthy medical professional you will ever meet. My wife and I were blown away by the amount of time Dr. G spent with us not only on day one, but every day that she was under Dr. G's amazing care.
Dr. G was honest with my wife, and that honesty made her see the light and get to the core of the problem that no other medical professionals were able to do. As a patient, parent or spouse you should know that Dr. Gaudiani doesn't say good bye when you leave, she has been available whenever I had questions or concerns about my wife's on-going recovery.
Doctor Gaudiani in the BEST there is and you can trust your loved ones are receiving the finest treatment when they are under Dr. Gaudiani's care.
--S, Florida


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First session free and 20% off your first 6 sessions!
(Full price: £5, with SLC: £4)
Parkside SE 10 Community Centre, 1 Copperwood Place, SE10 8GF
Do you care about your local community? Are you tired of shopping in the same big multinationals? Do you love living here and want to be able to afford to really live here?
Get the South London Club Card and support your local independent businesses.
Quaggy Community Choir - Choir in Lewisham
Quaggy Community Choir is an independent choir group in Lewisham, South East London.
Based at the Parkside Community Centre, on the border between Greenwich and Lewisham, Quaggy Community Choir is a choir open to everyone. Focusing on an eclectic mix of songs with different styles, the song choices range from well known hits to unusual tunes, with the choir open to song suggestions.
Recently opened in 2017, the choir is hoping to, once a bit more established, head out into the community to do some shows.
The choir's Musical Director is Jake Alexander. His career takes him in various directions as a cellist, percussionist, arranger, composer and musical director. Jake loves working with voices and sings and performs with the alt-folk group The Sea Kings
Everyone is welcome, no matter what age and what ability! There is no need to audition and no experience required - bring yourself, some enthusiasm and be ready to have fun!


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SAPA is aimed at pharmacist's assistants (PAs) who have undergone formal basic and post-basic training and who are registered with the South African Pharmacy Council. PAs work under close supervision of the pharmacist and are trained to advise the public on all self-medication issues.
Click here to go to the SAPA Journal Website


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Dodok, Helen Theresa (Palker)
Went to be with the Lord, surrounded by family on Friday, January 13, 2017. Her 96 years were filled with faith for her Lord and love of her family. She was born on January 25, 1920 in the near west side of Cleveland and relocated to Medina, Ohio at an early age; she graduated from Medina High School in 1938. Her early employment history included both S. S. Kresge and Higbee's department stores in downtown Cleveland. She was employed during World War II at Monarch Aluminum as a shipping/receiving clerk followed
by serving as a riveter/bucker on the B-29 bomber at the Cleveland Bomber Plant. She was a founding member of St. Mel Catholic Church (1948) and a resident of the West Park neighborhood of Cleveland for 59 years before relocating to St. Leonard Faith Community in Centerville, Ohio, since May of 2007. She was the daughter of the late Adam Palkech Palker and Katherine Kodai Palker. She joins her husband John P. Dodok, Sr., whom she married on May 10, 1941 (married for 59 years), and son John P. Dodok, Jr. Also, preceded in death by her sister Josephine Atzberger, and brothers, John, Adam, Stephen, and Joseph Palker. Helen is survived by her loving children, Bernadine A. Theus, James H. (Carolyn) Dodok; daughter-in-law Cheryl Dodok; grandchildren Natalie Theus (Gabriel Rostorfer), Christine (Jason) Duffy, Liam (Heather) Theus, James P. (Brandie Blank) Dodok, Matthew Dodok; great grandchildren Michael, Malia, Caroline Duffy, Lennon Dodok, step great grandchildren Jason Lambert, Athena and Ella Ary, many nieces and nephews. Visitation will be held on Monday, January 23rd at DONLON FUNERAL HOME, 15408 TRISKETT RD., CLEVELAND, OH from 4:00-7:00 p.m. and at St. Mel Catholic Church at 10:00 a.m. immediately preceding the mass. Mass of Christian Burial will be held on Tuesday, January 24th at 11:00 a.m., at St. Mel Catholic Church, 14436 Triskett Rd., Cleveland, OH. Interment at Holy Cross Cemetery. The family would like to express our thanks to
daughter-in-law Carolyn, Melanie Schiebrel, Elaine Wright, Lourdes Giles, Hospice of Dayton and extended family members for the loving care provided to Helen. If desired and in lieu of flowers, the family requests memorial contributions to St. Mel Catholic Church.


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The reward for trusting him will be the salvation of your souls.
God knew us and chose us from long ago, and His Spirit makes us holy. For this reason we have been cleansed by the blood of Jesus Christ.
It is by the mercy of God that we have been born again. Now we have an inheritance kept for us in heaven where nothing can spoil it. Meanwhile God is protecting us until that last day when all will see the mystery of salvation.
We must rejoice, despite any trials that we go through. Trials strengthen our faith. If we keep trusting in Jesus we truly will be saved.
It is an awesome thought that God chose us before we were born. He is the one who brings us to the place of salvation.
Because my salvation is in His hands, it does not depend on me or even on my faith. God will protect me and give me the faith to overcome, if I trust Him for that,
The key is to always look to Jesus in good times and in trials. If we do that, He will bring us safely through.
Thank you Lord Jesus for your salvation. Thank you for the assurance that nothing can separate me from your love. Amen.


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I'm always on the look out for cool new apps and here's nine of my latest discoveries
- Twizoo – there are loads of restaurant recommendation apps from curated ones like Time Out to user generated lists like Foursquare. This is completely different – at least visually. It generates bubbles of local restaurants/cafes. The size of the bubble shows how much Twitter traffic (or buzz) there is about the place and the colour represents how good the place is based on the content of the tweets. Green is good, yellow middling and red is bad.
2. Dark Sky – I live in London, so knowing when it will rain is very very important. This app provides the most detailed localised information on rain by the hour. (Oh, it works in any country)
3. Screen – I love Netflix, but even with the supposedly good Netflix search and recommendation system I still find that I'm missing out on the good stuff. "Screen" overcomes that. It picks out the best TV or films by category, shows which ones will soon disappear or appear and provides top 20 recommendations.
4. Soon – one of those apps that you wonder wasn't invented sooner! It allows you to create lists of stuff you'd like to see/visit/read. The categories includes books, films and restaurants. For example, I hear about a good restaurant, so rather than scribbling it down in Notepad or Evernotes, I can input it in "Soon".It will then locate the restaurant, find the address and put it on your list. You then have a record of the places you want to visit "Soon" (get it!). After visiting it, you can rate it and it goes into your "Done" list. Brilliant.
5. RealizD – an ironic app in some ways as I got this to manage my phone addiction. I've noticed I check my phone very often. This app actually tracks how often you pick up your phone and for how long. You can then track your addiction. At the moment I'm picking up my phone every 17 minutes. Gosh.
6. StumbleUpon – there is so much good content on the web, and so much terrible content. Finding ways to filter the good stuff is therefore the big challenge. There's bunch of apps that I like that do this (Clipboard, Digg, Feedly), but this is my favourite. It uses a Tinder-style swipe mechanism to through/rate articles and you can select a wide of categories from business to movies.
7. PLM Connect – I just heard about this. PLM stands for Patients Like Me and it's essentially a patient sharing app. Whatever condition you have from chronic ones like diabetes or depression to fleeting ones like colds, you can find what medications people have taken and which ones work. Specific medicines are mentioned, the ranges of dosages taken, and people's feedback on them. People also provide constant updates on their health. Never seen anything like this before and it could be revolutionary.
8. Rome2Rio – a handy app where you input your starting place and your destination and it tells you what modes of transport to get there. You can pick any locations. So for London to NY – it will tell you which trains to take to the airport, and which flights. Pretty cool.
9. Prisma – a cool app that allows you to turn your photos into styles of art.


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Yea, friends list!
If there are one or more people on your friends list who make your world a better place just because they exist, and who you would not have met (in real life or not) without the internet, then post this same sentence in your journal.
Nabbed from pegkerr


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One of a kind .33 acre panhandle building lot in much desired Juniper West with stunning views of Kamloops, surrounding mountains and the South Thompson river. Take advantage of recreation areas so close they might as well be in your backyard, while still remaining only minutes from downtown Kamloops!
Trevor Finch, personal real estate corporation, 2503743331 at Remax Kamloops, 258 Seymour Street, Kamloops, British Columbia, V2C 2E5


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Our appointment system aims to offer all our patients appropriate access to a doctor, improve the availability of routine appointments and alleviate the pressure on the telephone at 8.30am when we open. Ideally you should only have to make one phone call and we do the rest.
All our doctors' routine appointments can be made online, in person at reception or over the phone and can usually be booked 6 – 8 weeks in advance.
The direct phone line number is 01932 504450 (open 08.30am – 6.30pm week days).
If we have your mobile number we can send you a text reminder one week and 24 hours before your appointment is due. If you would like to use this service and have not advised the Practice of your mobile number or have changed your number please let us know. If you have registered for Patient Access these changes can be made online.
How to make an Appointment – Information Leaflet
Booking your Appointment
Routine GP Appointments
If you are registered for on-line booking, you can book an appointment 24/7 with a doctor via the Church Street web site. This service is available to patients aged 16 and over and can be used after a patient has registered for the service and received their registration document. Parents can use it for their children and we can amend the details when you arrive at the surgery. You will have the same appointment choice as those booking by telephone or in person.
If you book by phone or in person, you will be offered the next available appointment with the doctor of your choice. You can ask to see any available doctor in the Practice as all doctors have access to your medical records. If the date and time is not convenient to your needs you will be offered an appointment with the next available doctor. Alternatively, a message can be left with your preferred doctor who will contact you when they are next available.
If your appointment is not urgent, it will usually be easier to get through on the telephone later in the day (after 10.00am).
On the Day Assessment
If you have a problem needing attention 'on the day' or you feel your medical condition cannot wait until the next available appointment then you will need 'on the day' assessment from our duty doctor.
The duty doctor role is shared by all our doctors on a rota (Monday to Friday) and they keep this role for the entire day without routine pre-booked appointments. The duty doctor has access to appointments not available for Reception to use.
It is our intention for you to receive an appropriate consultation with a doctor before the Government's target of 2 working days – this may be face to face or over the telephone. If you have a problem needing 'on the day' assessment and are registered for on-line booking, you can first check on-line to see whether there is an appointment available
Please telephone Reception (01932 504450) who will send a message to the duty doctor for that day to return your call as soon as possible. In order to ensure you can be contacted please let us have your telephone number (home and / or mobile) and stay by this phone and leave your mobile switched on. Please phone as early as you can in the day so the duty doctor can prioritise their work load. The doctor will discuss your medical needs with you. This could be a consultation over the phone, an appointment that day or an appointment booked later in the week with the doctor of your choice, if the duty doctor feels the condition can wait to be seen.
Our extended opening hours for pre-booked routine appointments
Monday, Tuesday and Thursday mornings 7:20 – 8:00am
Saturday morning 9:00 – 11:40am
Extended opening hours are available for pre-bookable routine appointments. Only those patients who have booked an appointment will be seen and it is important that patients understand that we do not offer a 'walk in' service during extended hours.
During this time you will not be able to contact us directly by telephone. An answer phone message gives instructions on how to access out of hours medical services.
Our reception desk is however open for patients to collect prescriptions and letters/forms. Patients coming in on a Saturday morning to pick up any paperwork should note that our desk will close at 11.00am
Home Visits:
Please contact us on our direct telephone number 01932 504450 during normal opening times. These visits are for patients who are housebound or too ill to attend the surgery. Please make requests for a home visit before 10.00am wherever possible. It will help if you can also give some information about your problem in order for the doctors to prioritise their phone calls and plan their rounds effectively. The doctor will telephone you first to ensure a home visit is required.
Telephone Consultations: For appointments and advice required the same day, a message will be left for the duty doctor to return your call and discuss your problem. A message can also be passed to your preferred doctor if you are able to wait until that doctor is next available to return your call. If you need to speak to a nurse for advice such as travel and childhood immunisation then please leave a message with Reception. You will be asked for some details so that the doctor or nurse can prioritise the call.
Email: Emails will be checked regularly but any received after 5pm will not be seen until the next working day (this excludes weekends). If your request is for medication then please allow 2 working days for prescription collection.
All other general enquiries are processed according to their clinical priority; due to issues of patient confidentiality we may respond to your email, by letter or we may telephone you.
Practice Nurse Appointments
These appointments cannot be booked on-line due to the specific nature and appointment length for clinics.
Our Practice Nurses run clinics for Well Woman and all routine smears; Heart Disease; Hypertension, Respiratory including Asthma; Diabetic; general health checks (especially if you haven't seen your doctor in the last five years); health checks for the over 75 and newly registered patients ; childhood and adult vaccinations; menopause; and obesity.
When making a routine appointment with one of our Practice Nurses it is necessary for you to inform us why you want an appointment e.g. for a diabetic check as our Practice Nurses specialise in different areas and run clinics on specific days. The length of appointment required for each of these checks varies considerably so it is important you are booked into the correct clinic.
If you need to speak to a nurse for advice such as travel and childhood immunisations then please leave a message with Reception. You will be asked for some details so that the doctor or nurse can prioritise the call. It may take a few days for the nurse to return your call.
Follow Up Appointment
If your doctor or nurse asks to see you again for a follow up appointment i.e. after blood tests or an X ray, medication reviews, ante/post natal checks, try to book your appointment before you leave the surgery or as soon after the first appointment as possible.
Your doctor will let you know whether your appointment is urgent or routine and if it is not urgent it will usually be easier to get through on the telephone later in the day or after 10.00am. Alternatively book-online or make your appointment before you leave.
If you are unable to attend your appointment please remember to cancel. We would appreciate as much notice as possible so that the appointment can be given to another patient. You can cancel in one of four ways, online, in person, by telephone on 01932 504450 (when we are open) or by e-mail.
If a patient fails to attend their appointment, with a doctor or nurse, a note will be made on their records. In the event that 2 or more appointments are missed, we will write to the patient and this may result in that patient being removed from our list.
Making the most of your appointment
In view of the above it is therefore necessary that when patients are late it is usually necessary to ask you to re-book. It is our aim to focus on improving the quality of care for patients and to achieve our general philosophy, where possible, of allowing patients the time they need when seeing a doctor or nurse.
We have recently received feedback from patients concerned that all of their medical problems could not be dealt with adequately during their appointment time. The standard length of a routine NHS appointment with a GP last 10 minutes (appointments with our Practice Nurses are longer ranging between 10 and 30 minutes depending on the type of consultation). Some patients do attend with complex problems or multiply problems that require a longer period to assess and advise properly. Our doctors do their best to manage this, but are also aware of the inconvenience caused when we run late so a balance needs to be struck.
We would be grateful if you could let the doctor know all your medical problems at the beginning of the consultation, your GP will try to deal with each of your problems as appropriate. If necessary a further appointment can be arranged to discuss the rest of your medical problems.
However in some situations it may be necessary for the doctor to spend extra time with one particular patient. If you are concerned that your appointment seems to be unduly delayed please check with Reception who will be able to give you more information; you can then decide whether to wait or re-book.
In view of the above it is therefore necessary that when patients are late it is usually necessary to ask you to re-book. We appreciate your continued patience and understanding and welcome any comments you may have.
Please be aware that only one patient can be seen per appointment.
When you attend for your appointment, please use our quick and easy 'touch screen' to check in. It will save you from having to queue.
Local Pharmacist: Your local pharmacist may be able to give you free health advice at any time. Many pharmacies operate extended hours on a rota basis. Call NHS 111 for details. A well stocked medicine cabinet will help you treat many illnesses at home and pharmacists are qualified to give advice on illnesses and the medicines you need to treat them.
When The Surgery Is Closed
For urgent medical problems when we are closed telephone 111 for the NHS 111 service.
NHS 111 is a telephone service for people in (Kent/Sussex/Surrey) to call if they need medical help fast but are not in a life-threatening situation.
The easy to remember number has been introduced to help people get the right help, at the right time, especially at weekends and out of hours.
NHS 111 is free to call and is available 24 hours a day, 365 days a year.
Your call to NHS 111 will be handled by team of fully trained advisers and experienced nurses and doctors who will assess your condition and direct you to the local service that can help you best, when you need it.
There are now only three numbers to call if you need NHS care urgently: 999 for life-threatening emergencies, your GP surgery and 111.
Many illnesses or symptoms can be treated best at home with rest and over-the-counter medicines available from your local pharmacy.
When Should You Call An Ambulance?
If you believe that you or a member of your family, require emergency treatment, then dial 999 for an ambulance. For example, if someone has collapsed or is choking and you are unable to help then call an ambulance straight away. In particular, if you experience chest pain for more than 10-15 minutes which may be accompanied by nausea and sweating dial 999 and let the ambulance service know that you think you may be having a heart attack. Also is you think someone has had a stroke (FAST – face, arms, speech & time) it is very important to act fast by calling an ambulance straight away and letting them know that you think the person has had a stroke.
Please remember that A & E departments treat accidents and emergencies and should only be used in serious and life- threatening situations. If you need treatment when we are closed and it is not urgent enough to need an ambulance then call NHS 111.


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Here's another live recording from Maestro Ludovic Morlot and Seattle Symphony, this one covering several twentieth-century American works.
Morlot begins with the Second Symphony of Charles Ives (1874-1954). A lot of listeners have concerns with Ives's music, and I have to admit that I can take it or leave it. However, it always amuses me to listen to it because Ives often makes these things a game of "Name That Tune," with his references to so many bits and pieces from other composers. The Second Symphony is no different, quoting snippets of "Turkey in the Straw," "Long, Long Ago," "Camptown Races," "America the Beautiful," "Columbia, the Gem of the Ocean," and this and that from Bach, Beethoven, and Brahms, among others.
Ives wrote his Symphony No. 2 early in his career, somewhere between 1897 and 1901, although it never saw a premiere performance until 1951 with Leonard Bernstein and the New York Philharmonic. Indeed, a fine DG recording Bernstein later made with his old New York orchestra has rather spoiled me these past few decades, with Bernstein seeming to make Ives more palatable than recordings from most other conductors. For that matter, though, several conductors I've heard have also impressed me, most notably Bernard Herrmann and Michael Tilson Thomas.
Anyway, the Second Symphony under Morlot is fine, too. As I say, this early Ives work is pretty easy to take compared to some of the more-raucous pieces he would later produce. The Second Symphony is full of sweetly flowing melodies, and Morlot does a decent job of maintaining the rapturous qualities of the tunes. The symphony is a little unusual in that it adds a fifth movement to the conventional four, a slow Lento Maestoso before the final Allegro. This tends to give it even more of a grand Romantic feel, although, to be fair, Morlot doesn't play up its sentimental attributes quite as much as Bernstein does. Listeners may find this a plus or a minus.
It's in the second movement that we get the greatest number of musical allusions, and Morlot seems to have a good time with them. However, the conductor's style may be a tad too straightforward to reveal the full joy of the music. Again, Bernstein seems a bit freer with his rhythms and a touch more lyrical. And so it goes, with the finale under Morlot adding a zesty conclusion to the affair.
Next up is a brief piece, a world-premiere recording of Instances by American composer and two-time Pulitzer Prizewinner Elliott Carter (1908-2012). It would be Carter's last completed work, and as such it is the most-modern in structure and sound. I didn't find it particularly to my liking, but others will no doubt enjoy its rhythmic vitality, its intriguingly colorful interludes, and its various percussive effects.
|Ludovic Morlot
Dmitriy Lipay produced, engineered, and edited the album, which he and his team recorded live in concert at the S. Mark Taper Foundation Auditorium, Benaroya Hall, Seattle, Washington in June 2012 (Ives), February 2013 (Carter), and September 2011 (Gershwin). The live sound in the Ives work seems fairly distanced and spacious, the audience for the most part quiet. It presents a good concert-hall effect. The Carter piece appears closer up, the Gershwin in between. The only things that disrupt the effect of the music are the unwanted eruptions of applause that follow the first and third works on the disc. I mean, why go to all the trouble of keeping an audience as unobtrusive as possible throughout much of the music, only to have them disrupt our concentration at the end? Oh, well; otherwise, the sound is smooth and moderately well extended in terms of dynamics and frequency response in the closer-miked works, less so in the opening Ives piece.
To listen to a brief excerpt from this album, click here: