For Christmas this year, my mom took me and my oldest daughter on a cruise to Mexico. She did not invite my husband or my other kids, which might seem cruel, but really she was attempting to have a special mother-daughter, mother-daughter trip. And indeed it was. We had a marvelous time, but it was not without frustrations or confusions as you can imagine with a trip of this nature.

For one thing, being in such close perimeters for an entire week forced me to see how very different we all are. Often, I thought,’ how can this be my mother?’ and ‘how can this be my daughter?’ I’m sure they felt similar confusion at times. We are very different. Yet, we had a wonderful time together laughing, exploring, eating copious amounts of food (especially shrimp and desserts), and visiting with any number of the 5,000 guests aboard the ship.

We ported in three locations, and I only half-joked when I said I had to keep a closer eye on my mom than on my daughter. Ever the worrier, my mom’s brow furrowed repeatedly with panic that we were separated from our group and all was lost. Each time, I explained that I still had my eye on the next person in our group, and we would be fine. When my mom and I grew tired of the educational tours and wanted to deviate from our original plans, my daughter mimicked my mom’s furrowed brow, extremely concerned about leaving our group and going somewhere alone. I couldn’t emphasize enough that we were going to the beach… to one of the most beautiful beaches in the world. We would be fine!! Her rule-following ways were foreign to my overly-liberated ways. I was baffled that my daughter would not immediately jump at this opportunity! Instead, she cried and resisted.

Finally, after talking with her for a long time, I discovered that she was terrified that if we split up from our group, we would get kidnapped, lost, or left behind when they boat set sail. I was able to calm her fears and reassure her that I was perfectly capable of taking care of her. She was also comforted by the knowledge that we were still going on a guided tour and that many people in our group were going on different tours that day. A shift in both of our perspectives helped us to resolve our different expectations.

This was not my only shift in perspective; I learned things about my 10-year-old that I fail to see when I spend my days mediating between fighting kids, barking orders for chores, and busy, busy, busy. It was wonderful to be able to say “yes” to virtually everything she asked. We ate cookies at midnight, went swimming under the stars, stayed up late, and went wherever she wanted, whenever she wanted. We talked about her, and me, and my mom, and all of our different character traits. We also analyzed the ways we are the same and the things that help to bond us. It was delightful and also quite revealing. There we were, three women from three generations with 60 years between us, all speaking languages indecipherable to the others. And yet, this one-on-one trip helped me to understand my mom and my daughter more clearly.

Between sea legs, a new knee, constant motion, medication, and a cold, my mom was not the most stable footed I’ve ever seen her on this trip. In fact, she kept dropping and spilling things. It became the running joke that she couldn’t be trusted with a soda because she’d pour it on a guest (which she in fact did).

While boarding a transfer boat at one of the ports, we got snow cones. My daughter wanted to ride on the top of the charter boat, so she and I began the climb. Once there, we found a seat and waited for my mom to join us. Suddenly, I looked up and saw a puddle of snow cone pooling on the floor at the top of the stairs. I couldn’t help but laugh at my mom’s klutziness and the reality of our running joke. Next, I saw my mom ambling up the stairs, her bag in one hand, a dress she bought in another, with sticky hands and her water bottle, receipt, and empty cup balanced precariously between her two arms. I couldn’t understand why all of her stuff was not in the bag she had purchased only yesterday specifically because she was having such a hard time holding on to her things. She walked over to us, sat down, and it was like an explosion: her water bottle flew in one direction, her empty cup another, the napkins she held stuck to her syrupy hands, her bag fell to the floor in another direction, and I was in hysterics. We laughed so hard we cried! Onlookers thought we were either drunk or crazy… or both. The crew member said, “You’re cut off,” which opened a new round of hysterical laughing. I couldn’t even speak I was laughing so hard. My mom searched for cash to tip the poor guy who now had to clean up green apple syrup from the deck.

I made sure to hold my mom’s arms as we exited the boat, no longer trusting her to walk on her own. Sitting around the dinner table that night, I was retelling the hilarious events from the day, again laughing so hard it was difficult to speak. My mom indignantly interrupted and said, “You wanna see how funny it was? Here are all my bruises from falling,” as she showed some gnarly blue circles on her arms and legs.

“Wait, what? You fell?”

“Yes, coming up the stairs… that’s how I spilled my snow cone.”

Suddenly, the event was not quite so funny. I explained that I had no idea she fell. The captain room blocked my view so that all I could see was the puddle of snow cone slowly creeping along the cement deck. So much of parenting (and relationships in general) is like that snow cone. All you can see is the leaky sticky spillage from your perspective. I never saw her fall. I only saw the green liquid and was embarrassed that she had spilled yet another drink. I didn’t have compassion or empathy for her because I didn’t witness the whole experience. From my limited view, I could only see the spillage and laugh at her clumsiness never worrying about her fall or pain.

How often have I done that in my parenting? Going on this trip showed me a myriad of ways I was not seeing my daughter. It also illustrated the many characteristics of my mom that have been invisible to me my entire life. My perspective was limited, but I assumed I had a complete picture. I have been guilty of this all too often in motherhood. I remember being enraged about the mess of tiny little pieces of paper all over the floor, failing to see the beautiful snowflake my son made. It was days later that I found his creations and felt sick that I had hastily jumped to a conclusion rather than seeking a fuller picture.

Once, I remember reprimanding my daughter (ironically I can’t recall what it was about), and my husband asked, “Did you even ask her why she did it?” I remember thinking that I didn’t care why she did it, she was not allowed. Later, I recall that sinking feeling of guilt as her explanation changed my perspective.

In parenthood, indeed in life, we have to pay more attention. Stressed at work, do we fail to see the drawing from our child? In a hurry to complete our tasks, do we forget to notice when our little gets her feelings hurt? Resentful of the noise and wrapped up in our phones, can we see our children begging for attention?

I am confident that if we take the time to know our children, listen to them, and seek a fuller perspective, we will be better parents. We will be better people. If we seek understanding before judgment, compassion before blame, we will make family, society, and life more complete for everyone. And if you can’t go on a sweet one-on-one vacation, listening and paying attention will certainly suffice. The payoff can be immense… for me, it meant helping my daughter to be more free while also understanding her careful ways more clearly.

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I’m supposed to be 2 months pregnant by now on baby #2.

My husband and I have always talked about having two kids. We have an 18-month-old girl now. I got my dental health in check and got in with an OB/GYN in town for a preconception visit. We had our ducks in a row you could say, ready to start trying for baby #2 like planned. But then we had a conversation that started something like this: “Maybe it would be better to stop at one.”

My experience as a stay-at-home mom with my baby girl was — ahem — not joyful. She is a very high-needs difficult baby, though thankfully perfectly healthy. I won’t go into the crazy details, but those first 4 months, 8 months — hell it’s still fucking hard. I really don’t think I have it in me for another baby.

I was at the park the other day and saw a father with a 2-year-old and a 4-year-old telling the older one “no” to playing on this or that because he had to watch out for the safety of the little one. It made me wonder about all the divided attention and “no’s” I’d tell my daughter with baby #2, and how that would change our relationship. I kind of just want to give her all my attention.

Then my husband and I talked of all the passing of responsibility back and forth between who takes the baby and who does the chores, or who gets downtime. With a second child, we would get even less time together, and less personal time for much needed self-care, restoration, rest. We decided that it would be better on our marriage to take the pressure off and just enjoy the one baby/toddler that we have now and enjoy each other now, because we really love each other and miss spending time together without a kid around. We decided to be one and done, stop at perfection.

Babies are hard.

But then I learned something about my husband that I really admire. He said when our daughter’s older, and if she wants a sibling, we could adopt a young child — maybe 3 to 6 years old. He then went on to say how amazing would that be to adopt a child who so badly needs a family.

So that’s our new plan.

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My dear friend,

You are pregnant!!! YAY! I am so excited that I have tears in my eyes typing this. You will be an amazing mother. I can see the love for your baby in your eyes, hear it in your voice and feel it when I see you touch your belly. I’m so proud to be part of your journey. We will talk incessantly about pregnancy, birth and babies. I wanted to write down the things that I feel so strongly about since becoming a mother myself. I’ve only been at this for about 6 years (or 2,242 days, but who is counting?). I have so very much to learn, but I feel that I have so much to give at this point, too.

Here are the top five things I want you to know:

It doesn’t have to be your favorite thing. There is so much initial excitement when you first find out you are pregnant. “Finally!” or “Oh. My. God.” or “Well, shit.” One way or another, it is one of the most exciting times of your life. I’ve had “Finally!” and “Well, shit.” experiences. Both times were equally terrifying and exciting. Then, it starts…morning sickness, anxiety, doctor appointments, endless lists of things to do, watching what you eat and drink, and the countdown. (Good lord, the countdown. Don’t even get me started on the pregnancy math that says 40 weeks equals 9 months). For me, that whole list of things I mentioned and all the things I didn’t were so overwhelming and so consuming that I quickly became the woman who enjoyed pregnancy only because it is how I got my babies. Yeah, it is cool to feel the baby move and to know you are growing a human; but, for me, the initial mom guilt started when I realized that I didn’t LOVE being pregnant. It wasn’t my favorite and doesn’t have to be yours. Don’t let the random old lady at the grocery store convince you that you should love every second of being pregnant. If you do, great! If you don’t, know that I’m with you.

The internet is rarely good for you. Please avoid Dr. Google like it’s the alcohol you are craving. Seriously. If you have a question, call your doctor’s office, ask your friends, ask that random lady mentioned above, but please, for the love of all things holy, don’t google things during pregnancy. You will end up on some medical site that will have you at the ER before you have to pee again or on some forum where they are rear facing their 8-year-olds in five-point harness car seats.

They just want your money. When wading through the endless baby products, please understand that babies are easiest when your entire life isn’t cluttered with their crap. Put down the registry gun, people! Save your money. You will need it for something else, I promise you. Babies need diapers, onesies, a couple blankets, a car seat, a place to sleep (my recommendation is the side car sleeper that bumps up to the side of the bed because nothing is better than not having to get up in the middle of the night) and feeding supplies (whether you choose breast or bottle). THAT IS ALL. Oh, and a few binkies, just in case. Trust me. Everything else is just super cute fluff.

Find your tribe. You will never need your people more than you do when you are suddenly thrust into the role of mother. There is nothing like learning to navigate the world with your entire heart living outside your body. You need people to laugh with, cry with, ask questions of, and to hold that precious bundle while you nap. You must trust these people and know that they will be there if you run out of diapers, wine or breastmilk. These friends will mean more to you than I can explain. There is a sisterhood in a mama’s tribe that is unlike any other.

You do you. There isn’t a lot to be said here. You do what works best for your family. Full stop. There are no exceptions to this. Listen to all the advice. Talk about everything. Do what feels right in your heart. You will know your little human like no one else. You will try things and they won’t work. It’s ok. Remember that tribe? They will help you. At the end of the day, you will know best. Then, before you know it, you will be a seasoned mother telling a friend what worked for you and not being offended when she does the opposite.

You can do this.

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I’m going to warn you, dear reader, that this article is a sad one. Death is never a happy subject. Yet eventually all of us will face some sort of death in our lives, with our pets often being the first goodbye we say.

Ace had just been in for his annual vet check-up in mid-December. He was only 6.5 and in great health, so when the vet did a tumor check and pronounced him free of tumors, I wasn’t surprised. I expected as much from my young and healthy pup. I think that’s why, a few days before Christmas when we started noticing a menacing lump appear on his hip, the absolute last thing I expected was cancer. He just had a check-up. He must have injured himself. He might have hip dysplasia. He has an infected bug bite. He has anything but cancer.

Cancer. Liposarcoma. Malignant. Fast-spreading. Painful. Fatal.

In a week, he was gone. We said goodbye in front of our fireplace on his favorite bed. Our incredible family vet came to our home to put him down. He spent the day eating all the things he was never supposed to have (especially his favorite chocolate chip cookies) and allowing us to hold and thank him for giving us a lifetime of selfless love that only a dog can give.

I wasn’t remotely prepared for the level of grief that hit me. My goodness I cried. I cried for days. I cried so much I didn’t think I could cry any longer. I had a hard time eating. “He’s a dog! He’s a dog! I didn’t lose a human family member!” I kept saying, trying to somehow shame myself out of the misery I was feeling. That only made it worse. On top of all that, we had the boys, both of whom couldn’t remember a time in their lives when Ace wasn’t part of it. How was I going to help them?

I’ve always known that society has funerals and life celebrations not for those who left us, but for those remaining. These social constructs help us channel our grief. 95% of pet owners consider their pets part of the family. Yet the rules of grieving for a lost pet are not the same as those for a lost person. You navigate these murky waters without the help of societal framework. Here are some of the things I’ve learned that helped us through:

• Grieve. Cry. Scream. Get that emotion out. Don’t be embarrassed you’re this upset for a pet. I have spoken to numerous people who said they cried more for the death of their dog or cat than a family member. You can’t pick and choose the level of grief you feel. They are never just a dog or cat. It’s ok to feel intense emotions as you go through the grieving process. Don’t try to suppress them, and don’t be ashamed by them.
• Your routine will change, which is harder than you’d expect. Not having to fill that bowl in the morning; not buying that cat litter; it’s another innocuous reminder of what you’ve just lost. It hurts.
• For many children, saying goodbye to a pet may be their first experience with death. It was for my boys. The idea that they will never see Ace alive again was incredibly hard for my older son (8). My younger son (4) didn’t have the same realization. Death is a very large concept for him. Don’t expect your children to act the same. Do be ok grieving in front of them and with them.
• As always, lean on your family and friends. My mom was instrumental in helping us through. She bought the boys some beautiful books (this was my favorite) and some special ornaments to remind them of Ace. It helped them tremendously.
• Honor your pet your own special way. We made a stepping stone for Ace the day before he passed with his paw print in the center. We had him cremated, so come spring we are going to plant a garden for Ace in the backyard and spread some of his ashes there with his stone. It’s a living memorial for him we can go back to whenever we want.
• We bought Ace a star online. We named it after him and told the boys that Ace is there right now, living free from pain and watching us with his silly lopsided grin. This has been especially helpful for my youngest, who always asks to see Ace’s Star.
• Grief comes in waves. Initially it feels like you’re drowning in it, but as time passes, the pain dulls. Suddenly from out of nowhere, a wave of it hits, and in that instant you’re drowning once again. This happens with children too. Occasionally my oldest will start crying from seemingly out of nowhere. This is so difficult for my husband and me. We always try to acknowledge his feelings and let him cry. I will never say “man up” or anything as asinine as that.
• And most importantly, the rawness, the anger, the sadness — as time goes by, those secede to more happy memories. You can remember their bark, their meow, or a funny memory of them, without crying. You’ll never forget them, but you can allow yourself to be happy again.

There is no question that I will miss Ace till the day I die. His time with us was far too short. I hope that if you have pets, you will not need to visit this article for a long time. But if you do, these little steps helped us tremendously. If Ace’s legacy can be helping others through their grief, well, is there any better legacy a great dog can leave?

I love you sweet boy. – Mom

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I’ve sentenced my family to a year of community service.

Let me explain.

At the end of 2016, my husband and I bought a house. I mean, it’s the kind of house we feel like we never want to leave. Granite countertops, hardwood floors. We have a great view of downtown from the front porch, where we’ve sat and watched New Year’s and 4^th of July fireworks. And out back, we have this giant backyard that backs up to desert, which is all BLM land. We have barbecues back there and watch coyotes and jackrabbits come down the hill, and hikers go up and down the public trails.

So we paid off our debt, got this house we love in a neighborhood we love. We’re healthy, we’re happy. My kid goes to a wonderful school, and she’s an only child, so I mean, she has an extra room JUST FOR HER TOYS.

Christmas was insane, you guys. She got SO MUCH STUFF.

Meanwhile, a few months ago, in the areas that literally surround where my mom lives in California’s North Bay, fires forced thousands of people out of their homes. It was incredibly stressful watching her be so close to that, and thinking about how close we are to open desert, where wildfires easily could do the same to our house.

It all just made me realize: We have so much, while those people all of a sudden have nothing. It’s one of those things that makes you think, “Things are too good right now. Something’s going to come along and mess it up.” It’s the waiting-for-the-other-shoe-to-drop thing that was keeping me up nights.

Were we enjoying it enough? Grateful enough?

So over winter break, we packed up a bunch of her old toys, stuff she clearly had outgrown and could no longer make space for, and sent them out to Red Cross in Santa Rosa to help those kids, but the way my daughter was acting was like, “But… but… I WANT that! I love that toy! This isn’t fair!”

And over winter break, she’s pouting because we won’t take her out for dessert this one night. She’s crying when a promised snowstorm doesn’t actually hit and she has to go to school.

CRYING, you guys.

And I LOSE it.

I’m like, “You have NO freaking idea how good you have it.”

So later on that night, after she’s in bed, my husband and I are talking about it, and we’re like, whose fault is that? Have we cushioned her too much from life’s challenges? Is she ill-prepared for the world? And also, are we SHOWING her gratitude? Are we really contributing to making the world the place we want it to be? How can she see how great she really has it?

I mean, if we want to have a kid who’s grateful for the things she has, who contributes to society and helps make her community a better place, don’t we have to show her that? Don’t we want her to understand just how much she has, and how precious dollars and good health and a home are to some folks?

And also, just an aside here, I’ve been feeling this pull toward activism over the last couple of years. I don’t know, maybe it’s a mid-life crisis. It’s this feeling of “What is it all for, anyway?”

I just feel like, if I want to see things be better, shouldn’t I be helping with that?

So, like we all do in times of crisis, I turned to Facebook. I put the word out. “Hey, my husband and I are looking to do some community service with our 8-year-old on a fairly regular basis. We don’t have a lot of time to give, but we’d like to give something. Do you guys have any ideas?”

About 20 people responded.

Girls on the Run of the Sierras chimed in about how they’ve added a community service project to their already great girls’-empowerment program. I introduced them to our school principal so maybe we can get them a chapter at our daughter’s school. Just having done that felt great, and it looks like it may happen in the fall.

Ronald McDonald House chimed in and said, “Hey, why don’t you guys come do the Chef Program?”

The Food Bank of Northern Nevada was like, “Come on down and help pack boxes for distribution.”

A friend suggested we make and serve meals to the homeless at the Reno Initiative for Shelter and Equality, or RISE.

And there were still more! Churches and neighborhood groups and pet shelters…

So our family embarked on a community service project of our own. You’ve heard of a service year? A gap year between high school and college when a young person commits to a year of service? Well, 2018 would be our service year.

In February, we signed our daughter up for one of UNR’s KIDS University community service camps. It was a 2-hour camp at the Ronald McDonald House, totally free, where she spent time making food for the house’s guests and making Valentine’s cards for the families.

In early March, our family joined with two other families we’re friends with (people who said their kids needed similar lessons), and we all made a Sunday dinner for guests at the Ronald McDonald House.

It was a tremendously rewarding experience to see those families, whose children are seriously ill and in the hospital, come back after a hard day at the hospital—some of them very emotional—and enjoy a relaxing dinner. Seeing that in personreally brought home the power of helping out in this small way.

I’m not sure whether our daughter really got what she was seeing or how lucky she is to be healthy and safe and living at home. But the more we do things like this, the more she will, I think.

Next, in April, we’ve signed up to prepare and serve dinner at RISE. I expect that will be a powerful experience.

And in early May, we’ll take part for the second year in a row in the Keep Truckee Meadows Beautiful Great Community Cleanup, helping to beautiful our public park.

We’re on the hunt for more opportunities, but we’ve decided that each month we’ll give to the community in some way. I expect boxing up food at the Food Bank will be part of it. And I’ve recently joined a friend’s neighborhood coalition that makes food and delivers it to the homeless. I’d like to participate in that as well.

So now that we’ve embarked on this journey, I’m hoping our daughter’s outlook becomes one of gratitude

But this just isn’t for her. You know, there’s so much CRAP happening in the world. I mean, does it feel like that to you? Doesn’t it feel like everything is the WORST?

For me, I feel like the only way out of this funk where I feel depressed about the world is to see for myself all the great, great work that people are doing to make things better. I think that’s all we can do.

So stay tuned. I’ll keep you all posted on my family’s journey here on the blog. And in the meantime, I challenge you and your family to get out there and see how you and your kids can make a difference in the community. I promise, it doesn’t take much to make a big difference—not if we’re all doing it.

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So all you pregnant mommas know and love the infamous “1-hour glucose tolerance test” — or if it’s your first pregnancy, and you are early on, you will come to know and love it! If you’re like I was, particularly with this pregnancy, I had to psych myself up for it. I failed the first time because I threw up the fruit punch flavored concoction after 45 minutes of the hour long wait. The second time, I was lucky enough to keep it down to get my blood drawn, and thank goodness passed with flying colors, therefore I did not have to proceed to the even more heinous 3-hour test.

But why do we do it and why is it important? It was recognized as early as the 1800s that high blood sugar in pregnancy was very dangerous to both the mother and the child, and over the 1980s a protocol was developed to help better diagnose and manage these women who suffer from high blood sugars only when pregnant.

Treatment varies depending on the situation and can range anywhere from diet and exercise changes to needing insulin injections, depending on how difficult the blood sugars are to control.

Uncontrolled gestational diabetes can cause a lot of problems for the baby and mother. Babies born to moms with constantly high blood sugars tend to be very large, with broad shoulders, and are at much higher risk of getting stuck when coming down the birth canal, which is an emergency for both mother and child — called “shoulder dystocia.”

Another risk for these infants is difficulty controlling their own blood sugar once out of the womb. After being constantly exposed to high blood sugars while developing, their pancreas (the organ that produces insulin) has been working overtime and producing much more insulin than normal, so once they are removed from the high-sugar environment of mom’s uterus, their blood sugars can drop dangerously low. It’s also possible for these babies to end up in the NICU on IV drips to keep their blood sugars up until the pancreas returns to normal.

Another important thing for mothers to know is that their risk of developing gestational diabetes in future pregnancies is higher, as well as developing type 2 diabetes throughout their life, and they should make sure to be monitored for this regularly after they deliver by their primary care provider.

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So it’s been interesting to read comments on social media about the March for Our Lives. Let’s clear some things up.

I consider myself a moderate. I am registered as a Republican (gasp!) and I tend to be conservative fiscally, but more liberal socially (for example, gay marriage is A-okay with me) so take things as you will….

Oh, by the way, I also was a brief member of the NRA in high school, shot guns in my school basement as a member of JROTC, took a hunter safety class, and was nicknamed “Annie Oakley” by one of the JROTC instructors.

I also greatly enjoy those old-timey shooting galleries and watching Westerns.

1) It was my first march, and from what I saw, physically being there, is that, yes, there were actually a LOT of people. And this is coming from someone who started out at the front and then stopped on the steps of the courthouse and physically observed the entire march as it went by. I was actually surprised by the huge number. I could be wrong, but I actually physically witnessed this, so I’m not going by “fake news” (which by the way, is nowhere near a new thing – check out the Hearst papers. Or basically any paper from the Old West. Pretty much every paper was tabloid journalism. “Honest” news is pretty much a damn new development in history.

2) No, it wasn’t “an angry mob”, it was actually a very peaceful, friendly march. In fact, we only encountered one super angry person missing several teeth who told us we were all gonna die, so…..and of COURSE there were a few extremists, but generally, the people I encountered were friendly and open-minded.

3) I think it is unfair and unwarranted, not to mention severely ignorant of history to call the young people “ignorant” and “undisciplined brats” for taking a stand for something they believe in. Did you people not grow up in the 50s, 60s, or 70s? Was change not made in the large part? I’m confused on this point. Did you grow up in Pleasantville (not the real one people, yes I know there is real one, the MOVIE one)? Talk about revisionist history!

4) And lastly, and perhaps most importantly, a lot of people think this is about giving up all guns and your rights. For the large part, it’s really about creating a more responsible culture around weapons, not barging into homes and melting them all down. The group I worked with actually teaches courses on how to properly secure weapons and keep them out of the hands of one’s children. And as for rights, I don’t quite understand this one either….we can’t own slaves anymore. We have to wear seatbelts in cars and a hospital won’t even let us LEAVE with our own baby if they don’t have a car seat….and this just a small fraction of “infringements”…. is it just that this is one more “infringement” you don’t want? And yes, I know, there IS admittedly a large group of people who are far left – but it would be ignorant to consider that the WHOLE story, just as I personally don’t see all Republicans or other conservatives in a totally black and white “yee-haw guns” sort of way. It’s not that simple and simply not true.

5) Okay. I lied. There is actually one more thing. I can’t help but laugh at the irony of people being infuriated over a post-colonial right while simultaneously being angry with “an angry mob of ignorant people trying to change things.” Isn’t that pretty much the history of our American people? An endless cycle since our very founding of people being infuriated by “an angry mob of ignorant people trying change things” and that said “ignorant mob” changing things and repeat and repeat over the decades? Is that not the very fabric and pattern of our country? Is it not the most fundamental American right of them all? Are guns fun? Hell yeah they are! Do we physically, morally NEED to own AR-15s or the right to own an entire arsenal? Hell no, we don’t!

Heather Walker Rowan is the mother of two young children. After ten years of living and working in cities across the USA, she is happy to be settled in her hometown of Reno once again. When she isn’t hardcore momming (with the occasional break to hide in the closet and watch Netflix) and pretending she is a decent photographer, she travels around the globe with her husband documenting heart disease in mummies (true story!).

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My first baby turned 4 years old today, and I don’t know what to do with myself. Time is the most cunning thief of all thieves. I’m in disbelief at where we’re at, leaving the “baby” stage behind with a now-4-year-old and a 19-month-old. Since I’m feeling sentimental today, I’ll share what’s on my heart for my little boy to know, as he takes on his fourth year.

1. You are all things cars, trains, noise, and dirt — but you’re as sensitive as they come, and I want to nourish that. The world needs more of this in our boys, young men and grown men. I’m proud of you for being sensitive to others around you, and for learning how to be kind to others. Sensitivity is a strength of yours, and I can’t wait to see where it takes you.

2. Though you’re still little, you can be responsible and strong! I love watching you take responsibility. You’re great at wiping down tables, putting dishes away, helping me bake and putting your toys away. You aren’t perfect at this, but neither am I, so we’ll keep working on it together.

3. I’m supposed to teach you, but sometimes you teach me. The simplicity you’re content with reminds me I need to channel my inner 4-year-old more often, and learn from you. Outside time, playing in the sand, snacks, walks, observing the details in everything around you at your own pace —this is what it’s all about.

4. I won’t always get it right, and will surely fall short in my role as your mom — but I will always keep trying. I read a book back in college that had an idea that challenged me: “Never stop exploring a person.” It reminds me that people are infinitely complex. I don’t want to assume I always have you all figured out. I hope to learn new things about you, and enter into your world a bit more this year. I love the little, big person you are becoming.

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This winter has been a doozy for illness. So many people have been sick, and the illnesses just seems to LINGER. Or it’s just one virus after another for weeks or months. It’s awful to hear about adults suffering, but I hate it when I hear that kids are sick for months on end! I have worked with several of these lingering cases and wanted to give you a few safe, DIY health tips that may make all the difference in decreasing the duration and recurrence of illness.

Our Gastrointestinal Tract — The Home of 80% of our Immune System

If you know me at all, you know I am REALLY into the gut microbiome. So I’ll start with my favorite topic. 

LOVE YOUR BUGS! (I wrote an article with this title in January. Check in out!)

  3D Image of Microbiome in GI Tract      

Our gut lining, if you were to stretch it our flat, is approximately the surface area of two tennis courts. This layer of epithelial tissue between this digestive tube (lumen) and the inside of our bodies is one cell thick. (1)(1.5) On the other side of the thin layer of intestinal lining sits 80 percent of our immune system. (2) This is because the digestive tract is actually “outside” our bodies, and there is only a single layer of cells protecting the crud in our GI tract from our blood stream.  So the immune system sits in waiting, at the ready for battle if our gut lining is overwhelmed by toxins or pathogens. But this lining not only has the immune system for back-up, it has an army! In fact the lining and the immune system work in concert with trillions of microbes that live in our GI tract. It is this trifecta that keeps us healthy and keeps our immune systems intact. 

Microbiome + Gut Lining + Immune System = immune health, immune balance, system homeostasis

So what does this have to do with your kid’s lingering or recurring virus/cold/cough/infection?

Well, since so much immunity is going on in our GI tracts, we better mind what we put in them.

#1:  When we are eating junk food, sugar, processed foods, chemicals and pesticides, our immune system will have no choice but to become activated since this is more than our trifecta can handle. The gut lining begins to break down, and the immune system goes into overdrive. When we over-tax our immune system with inflammatory foods and it is busy defending the gut lining, it cannot mount a proper defense over the real enemies — germs, viruses, etc. 

#2:  If we don’t keep our microbiome healthy, it can’t do its job: which is to act as the army protecting the gut lining, breaking down toxins and inflammatory substances, producing nutrients and supporting immunity.   

The cool thing is that the same things that help support our microbiome also keep our gut lining healthy and our immune system from having to go to battle.

Here’s what to do to have a robust microbiome and healthy GI lining:

1.  Eat plenty of veggies — our gut bugs thrive on the fiber in veggies.
2. Don’t eat refined carbohydrates like bread, crackers, cookies and cakes — because this feeds the pathogenic, inflammatory gut microbes.
3. Don’t eat sugar, high fructose corn syrup, juice, soda, processed dried fruit products, candy, cakes, etc. — sugar not only feeds the bad bugs but is the achilles heel of the immune system. Sugar is a double whammy for this beautifully synchronized gut microbiome-immune system dance.
   1. IN FACT, 1 tsp of sugar suppresses the immune system by 70 percent for up to 6 hours!!!!!! (2.5)
4. Eat fermented foods — this feeds as well as seeds the healthy microbes to join the fight. If you don’t know what fermented foods are, check out this video, this article and this podcast.
   1. After many of the medications given to kill infections, we must repopulate the healthy microbiota. The irony of antibiotics and antivirals is that they kill the bad guys, but also decimate the good guys. This is a huge reason why illnesses linger, especially after these medications are used.

• A) Take PROBIOTICS! Especially after a round of antibiotics or anytime you are fighting or preventing an illness.
• B) Eat fermented foods: sourkraut, kefir, kombucha, fermented pickles (Bubbies or Sonoma Brinery), Gut Shots, kimchi)
• C) Keep in mind that pesticides on food (any non-organic foods) are antibiotics — they KILL everything except the genetically modified plant they are sprayed on. Eat organic foods whenever possible, especially when fighting recurrent illness.

The Sunshine Vitamin

Ever thought that one of the reasons we get so much sicker in the winter is because we don’t see the sun? Vitamin D is ESSENTIAL to immune function. At the latitude we live here in Reno, we get very little if any Vitamin D from the sun from November-May. Kids can be as deficient as adults. Check with your child’s physician about the possibility of supplementing during the winter months or if your child is ill. In my clinical experience, Vitamin D can be instrumental in preventing chronic infections. The Vitamin D Counsel recommends that the optimal level of 25(OH)D is 50 ng/ml. Though testing kids is hard, there are blood spot tests. Or work with a qualified health care practitioner to safely dose your child during the winter months. 

Foods with the active form of vitamin D include: cheese, butter, sardines, tuna, caviar, wild caught salmon, mushrooms, eggs, cod liver oil.

The Missing Antiviral Vitamin

Vitamin A is a feared and misunderstood vitamin. However, it is deficient in most of our diets and is hugely important to immune function. In fact, in the 1920 and ’30s, Vitamin A was used to treat the measles and tuberculosis. (3)(4)(5) (6) It is especially important in lung infections.

Foods that provide Vitamin A are: liver, cod liver oil, fish, eggs, cheese and pastured meats. Precursors to Vitamin A come from red, orange and yellow veggies, so eat plenty of these as well.

The Antioxidant Toxin Busting Vitamin

Vitamin C is protective of tissues that have been exposed to toxins or infections due to its antioxidant power. Vitamin C can halt and reverse the inflammation from microbes and shorten illness. Vitamin C is also found in extremely high amounts in our adrenal glands, indicating that it is needed to produce adrenal hormones. Vitamin C can play an essential role in prevention of illness, healing damaged tissues and assisting in recovery via the adrenal glands. It has been researched and used in the following situations:

• as an antiseptic/bactericidal
• For sepsis/critical care
• Trauma

~ helps process toxins

~helps heal vascular system

– acts as an antihistamine

• used historically and recently researched to treat Whooping cough (7)(8)

Sources of Vitamin C

• Fresh citrus fruit — Vitamin C levels diminish as the fruit sits off the tree
• Kiwi, guava and black currant are the highest
• Broccoli, kale, Brussels sprouts
• Bell peppers
• Sodium Ascorbate is one of the most effective forms if you are going to supplement

SLEEP!

Sleep is ESSENTIAL to growth, immune function and brain function. Without deep, long sleep, we do not produce growth hormone to heal, regenerate nerves and reset our immune system.  Studies show one night of “short sleep” (less than 6 hours for an adult) makes the person insulin resistant the next day. (8.5) This means lack of sleep makes you physiologically seem like a pre-diabetic for a day! The cascade of chemicals starting with Melatonin is essential to heal from any illness. According to the National Sleep Foundation, teenagers need eight to 11 hours, ages 6-12 need nine to 12 hours and ages 3-5 need 10-13 hours. (9)

Acupuncture for immunity

Of course this is not a DIY, but acupuncture is a powerful treatment method for chronic illness. It has the ability to stimulate your body’s white blood cells, as well as overall blood flow, and can powerfully kick-start the immune system. Synchronized with the right dietary adjustments and targeted herbal medicine and supplements, acupuncture may be just what you need to overcome a stagnant state of health.

If you need additional guidance, would like to see me for acupuncture and Chinese medicine or  would like to work with me over the phone to dial in your diet and supplements to optimize immunity, contact me at askme@kataniataylor.com, kataniataylor.com or pathtowellnessreno.com.

In Health!

Dr. Katania

Source

1  Thickness of gut lining, repair

1.5 Thickness if GI epithelium

2 . Gut and immune system

2.5 . Sugar and Immune Suppression

2.8 Immunity Overview

3. https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pubmed/17557517

4. https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pubmed/11869601

5. http://pediatrics.aappublications.org/content/91/5/1014

6. https://wwwnc.cdc.gov/eid/article/18/9/11-1701_article

7. http://www.seanet.com/~alexs/ascorbate/

8. http://drsuzanne.net/wp-content/uploads/2017/10/Vitamin-C-Whooping-Cough-PDF.pdf

8.5 Sleep and insulin resistance

9 .National Sleep Foundation

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We all want to fit in. Whether we’re new moms, seasoned pros, or not sure we want to have children at all, we all want to be accepted by others. Whether we’re the one who wasn’t genuinely invited to the party, the awkward bridesmaid that didn’t keep in touch as much as she wanted, or the only single one in an ocean of married friends, we all want to be understood. We all want to be heard. It’s human nature.

Acceptance

Veteran parents love to tell newbies exactly how things are going to go. “Just wait” and “you’ll see” seem to be the most common phrases shared, which can often be frustrating to “fresh” new parents that just want to experience it for themselves. It is in this response, that initial frustration to unsolicited advice, that I’m finding new perspective as a parent.

Unfortunately, it’s also human nature to assume the worst. We’re hard-wired to expect negative outcomes and hold onto pain, as that was what was most likely to keep us alive in the early days of our species. Well, I know from experience, that despite what your instincts may say, most people are not out to get you.

Assuming positive intent from others and clearly communicating your context and purpose will get you so much further, so much faster, than reacting to perceived judgment from others. It’s important to recognize that more often than not, the person overreacting has a reason, and usually that reason has nothing to do with you.

Perspective

We have this hope, this expectation, that everyone we meet will remember every detail we share after we’ve shared it once and feel hurt or frustrated when they don’t. I am entirely guilty of this. There’s a reason that professional journalists record their interviews. They recognize that they may miss something valuable, or misremember the context that was intended. If a professional listener, translator, and communicator cannot remember everything from an interview, why do we pressure ourselves and others to do so when we first meet?

Why do we so quickly dismiss those who are different from us, rather than embrace those differences and learn from their unique perspective? If we take the time to embrace our discomforts and fears of rejection, if we leaned in more often, we would begin to more easily accept ourselves and others. We would begin to expect less from others and more from ourselves.

The only way we grow and learn is by stepping out of our comfort zones and expanding the bubbles with which we associate.

Vulnerability

I think it’s safe to say that now, more than ever, we all need to try harder to be more understanding. Perspective and context work hand-in-hand with patience and understanding. If we spread love and acceptance, vulnerability and honesty, we will begin to understand our worth and won’t have to spend so much time feeling like we need to prove ourselves to others.

I’m the first to admit that I care way too much about what others think of me. This is largely because I don’t spend enough time focusing on myself. I’m a people pleaser at heart, and this often leads to confusion and misunderstandings that perpetuate more confusion and misunderstandings. I tend to feed off other people’s discomfort and find myself trying to overcompensate to make it right.

What if instead we noticed, acknowledged, and discussed that discomfort immediately? I think it would free our spirits and help us to connect on a new and more meaningful level.

If we let go of this fear of judgment, maybe we would see that “fresh” doesn’t have to be a negative term. That those veteran parents might just be projecting what they wish they would’ve known and trying to help the newcomers avoid mistakes of their past. And if we don’t confront our insecurities, our mistakes from the past that linger into today, we put our children at risk to repeat them.

Walking a mile in someone else’s shoes is useless if you know that at the end of that walk, your old shoes are waiting for you, completely unchanged. What if we opened ourselves up to throwing out our old shoes entirely? By committing ourselves to understanding others’ perspectives, we can find new value in our own experiences and forge a new, more supportive pair of shoes altogether. The new pair might be uncomfortable at first, but once you break them in, they can take you to places you never imagined.

I, for one, am excited to break in this fresh new pair of more-supportive-than-Dr.-Scholl’s mama shoes.

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I have issues. I get that.

But perhaps during no season are my issues more prevalent than during the run-up to Easter. And there’s one massive reason.

The Easter Bunny.

But not the cute, fluffy, imaginary one (sorry kids if you’re reading this) that stops by my house every year to set up the egg hunt. Not the one on TV that clucks like a chicken while laying the Cadburry eggs (does he still do that? I’m a Netflix/Hulu girl and thus out of touch). Not even the one that lives on Pinterest as a cake. Whether real or ideal.

Nailed it, amIright? 

No, I’m talking about one and only one kind of Easter Bunny: the person-sized one.

There’s something about an enormous Easter Bunny that is so inherently, fundamentally, creepily wrong. And to me, the reason is the scale. I mean, bunnies are cute and fluffy and adorable and small and squishy (and granted, mean, but I’m even willing to ignore that because they’re. so. TEENY!).

The second you create a bunny that’s larger than, let’s say, any average-sized rodent, then you’ve got a problem.

Because giant bunnies are creepy AF.

Consider Harvey. The makers of the classic Jimmy Stewart saga wisely knew they had to keep the six-foot, three-and-one-half-inch tall pooka completely invisible.

Why? Because the second he’s real, he’s creepy AF.

No actual bunny should be six-feet, three-and-one-half-inches tall.

No bunny should even be the size of the carousel rabbit I recently found in the Roseville Galleria. I mean, check out the face! And what kid would EVER want to ride on an impatient-looking, oversized lagomorph who obviously has dagger-like claws under those paws? (And tell me those sketchy eyes aren’t the windows into a black-as-night soul.)

Anyhow, so last weekend, I took my daughters to the Sierra View Library inside Reno Town Mall (or “Old Town Mall,” for those of you who’ve lived in Reno long enough to remember the locale’s tiny movie theater, or that Breuners and Marshalls used to be anchors).

As we walked into the mall, I was struck by how truly little has changed there since the days of the movie theater. It’s like the decaying carcass of a mall from the ‘80s, enshrouded in brick and wood and bronzey hues with high ceilings and a fountain that still limps along (but is so much less magical than I recall from my childhood).

And as we approached the library, there he was. Sitting in a giant chair against a cheesy backdrop in this deliciously garish skeleton of a mall.

It was the Easter Bunny. And he was HUGE. And he waved at us.

*shudders*

 Avoiding eye contact as much as possible, we walked briskly by, with me sliding myself between my 4-year-old and the photo backdrop for fear she’d want a picture with aforementioned creepy AF bunny.

Success. A sheepish grin was all the gargantuan bunny got from my perky pre-schooler.

But when we emerged from the library after a few hours of computer time, puzzle-building and book checking-outing, it was an entirely different story.

“Mommy, may I get a picture with the Easter Bunny?” Bryerlee sweetly asked.

“Nope,” I said curtly. “Too busy. Busy-busy-BUSY!” (I hoped the quick cadence alone of my staccato response would convey the immediate urgency of our need to vacate the premises. Immediately.)

We picked up the pace, I crossed my fingers, whispered a silent prayer and hoped for the best.

But as it turned out, my excuse wasn’t even necessary. Because as we got closer, my pre-schooler’s eyes got bigger. My eyes got bigger. My 15-year-old’s eyes got bigger — and made direct, you-can’t-make-this-shit-up contact with mine.

Because Creepy Bunny was not only creepy AF. But she was holding her costume head up, revealing her entire face below the mask, socializing nonchalantly with the photographer. She made eye contact with us as we passed by, totally deadpan, not even remotely apologizing for ruining any semblance of illusion that the creepy AF bunny was the actual Easter Bunny.

One job, people. Creepy Bunny had ONE JOB. And she ended up doing the exact opposite of that one job.

Bryerlee didn’t say a word. But I could sense by her shoulders, the back of her head, her general disposition that something pure and innocent died inside of her that day.

The next morning, as we were talking over her morning bowl of Cheerios, she looked at me intently.

“Mom, I know that wasn’t the real Easter Bunny.”

“No, it wasn’t,” I assured her. “But isn’t that a good thing? I mean, that would be one giant, creepy, way-out-of-scale bunny if it were real.”

I knew she wouldn’t understand that last concept, but I felt it important to mention.

“It was just a human wearing a costume,” she said wistfully.

“Yup, you’re right.” I affirmed.

She then paused, tilted her head to the side, rolled her eyes and said in a sing-songy cadence:

“Spoiler alert.”

Spoiler, indeed.

How my 4-year-old knew to use that term is beyond me. But while her illusions about a 6-foot-tall real Easter Bunny were absolutely spoiled inside that decaying carcass of an ‘80s mall, her grasp of teenage lexicon was alive and well.

And I’ve dodged a bullet. Because the other thing that was squashed that day: any desire she had — then or any day in the future, I’m hoping — of having a picture taken with the Easter Bunny.

Or the “Easter Bunny,” as she now uses air quotes when describing him. Her. It. Whatever.

Happy Easter, all. May your baskets overflow, your eggs adopt brilliant hues, and your bunnies be tiny.

And if they aren’t, at least may they keep their fucking heads on.

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Exclusive pumping, simply put, is breastfeeding without nursing. The mom pumps her milk and feeds her baby via bottles. It’s answering both when people ask if you are doing breast or bottle.

I pumped exclusively for my son for 14 months and over those 829 hours (yep, you read that correctly) I spent hooked up to my pump, I learned a few things that helped make the experience more manageable and productive (sorry but not sorry for the pun). Though some of these are more applicable for exclusive pumpers, most of them are more general and can help make your pumping life a bit easier.

Tools:

1. An electric double breast pump. This one is pretty self-explanatory because it’s more efficient to pump both breasts at once than one at a time. They can get pretty pricey but the good news is that your insurance may cover it, so definitely check before registering for or buying one.
2. A hands-free pumping bra. I love this one from Simple Wishes because it comes with an adjustable Velcro back panel for the perfect fit as your boobs change sizes three times a day. And, um, if you happen to add anything else to your cart, that’s just between you and Amazon.
3. A second set of pump parts. It’s hard explain just how much of a mental load having back-up parts can take off. Just the fact that there is the option of not having to wash your parts every night is stress-reducing. Not to mention if a part breaks, you can replace it right away without having to google if Walmart carried pump parts.

Tips:

1. The magic number. According to this article, which was shared to me by Robin at Lactation Connection (formerly known as Starfish Lactation), breast milk production is affected more by how many times a day milk is removed from your breasts. The idea is to try to get in a certain number of pumps/feeding sessions in a 24-hour period instead of spacing them out evening. It’s much more manageable this way and significantly less daunting. Which brings us to the next tip.
2. Cluster pumping. It’s basically cluster feeding but with a pump. Cluster pumping typically involves pumping for 10-15 minutes, taking a 30-60 minutes break, then pumping again. It mimics the feeding pattern of a baby going through a growth spurt and will hopefully “trick” your body into upping its production. So keep the pumping bra on and the pump parts attached and settle in with a good show (or two) on Netflix.
3. Milk storage. If you have a deep freezer, store your milk in there and it will last up to a year. If you don’t, store your milk as far away from the door as possible to ensure that it remains frozen. Basically, don’t do what I did.

Tricks:

1. The Ziploc bag trick. Depending on your situation and what you have access to, you can store your fully-assembled pump parts in a Ziploc bag until your next pump session. Breast milk is good in room temperature for 4-6 hours and 3-8 days in a fridge, so your pump parts should theoretically be good to use until your next session without washing. I used this trick and kept the pump parts in the fridge between sessions and only washed my pump parts at the end of the day. As always, every situation is different so use your best judgment.
2. Multi-task. A good friend got us a bouncer and it was the best thing ever. I was able to pump and feed my son at the same time, as long as I keep my back straight to avoid leakage.
3. Hand expression. To boost your supply or to top off that last half ounce, hand express for a few minutes after you are done pumping. You can find tutorials on YouTube or contact a lactation consultant.

One last thing, if you ended up storing your milk in a deep freezer (which I did) that you keep in the garage (which I also did), plug in an always-on nightlight in the other socket (which I did not do).

Why, you ask?

So you can know when the outlet has been tripped and that your precious liquid gold is thawing in the summer heat…

This was me. Don’t let it be you.

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When was the last time you missed a doctor’s appointment? I’m not talking about one that you totally spaced, or maybe were too sick to go that day, but instead, when was the last time you knew you should go to the doctor for that checkup, but never actually scheduled it?

Now, here’s the kicker. When was the last time you did the same for your kids? Okay, I’m not saying that means that you’ve never forgotten an appointment for your kids, or moved an appointment because shit happens, but I guarantee, I guarantee, that you do it much less for your kids, than you do for yourself.

Why? Why do we make ourselves less of a priority? Parents are the glue that keep the family together, and if that glue gets runny, thin, stressed, tired, fed up, exhausted, annoyed, and sick, it all falls apart.

And then, there’s the guilt. Oh boy, the guilt.

The other day, I meal planned and prepped for the week, had dinner on the stove, worked a full 10 hours, cleaned/picked up the house, and I felt guilty for asking my husband to pick up one of the kids.

Now back up: It’s not because my husband doesn’t do his fair share. In all honesty, he does more than I do sometimes, and sometimes I do more than he does. It’s all a balance. We’re partners.

But the point is that no matter how much I do, I feel guilty for asking for help, time, space, and sanity.

Go further down this road to nonessential things, like haircuts, massages, personal time, hobbies, and you’re kidding yourself. I get my hair done…maybe once every two years. When do I get my nails done? Whenever there’s a wedding. Massage? Does your kids walking on your back count?

So here’s my argument for self-care: do it. And try not to feel too guilty.

To prove I mean it, I got my hair done in less than my usual 2-year period (only six months this time!). I went to Haven, to have Kristyn Johnson tackle my hair.

And Haven is exactly as it sounds — it’s a Haven. It’s quiet, beautiful, and peaceful. Each stylist has their own room for privacy. Each stylist can use their own preferred products, and there is no one line that you have to stick to. Kristyn uses hair care that derives only from natural ingredients, which is something that I’m trying to be better about. Plus, she lightened by hair without the use of peroxide or ammonia – which means that not only is it healthier for her, but it’s healthier for my hair (no bleach here!).

Not only that, but Kristyn is a mom with two daughters of her own. And honestly, I try as much as possible to support other moms in the area. Not just because I want to help moms with their own business, but because they have realistic expectations. I’m not going to have time to do my hair every day. Sometimes, I’m lucky if I shower. And when I meet another mom, there’s always that knowing gleam in their eye that some days, we’re just lucky to be alive.

But my favorite part about the visit wasn’t that I felt like a million bucks after (I did), it’s that I did something for myself. And I’m not afraid to admit that when I feel better about myself, I feel like nothing can stop me.

If you’re interested in booking an appointment with Kristyn, text or call her at 775.342.8558.

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Recently I came to the conclusion that my car was depressing. I am a stay-at-home mom with a toddler and a dog, and we tear our car up. The muddy paw marks, window smears, the dried bottle milk, the CRUMBS, the smells. Ok, it’s not all from the kid and the dog — there are many empty Starbucks cups and random bits of trash from mom up at the driver’s seat. On top of that there’s just so much clothing and toys and random crap in my car, and it was overwhelmingly and depressingly filthy.

I had to confront it and take control before it ate me alive. If not for me, for my daughter’s sake; we as moms, after all, are setting examples on how to live right?

Hahaha.

Now I know we aren’t supposed to compare ourselves to other moms, but I do have a mom friend with four kids, and every single time I’ve seen her driving, her car is shiny on the outside and crumbless on the inside. Like not even one crumb, and no dust on the dash. One night when she picked me up to go out, I jumped in her car and called her out on that shit.

“What the hell is your secret? You have four kids and your car always looks new — I can’t take it!!”

So she shared her secret: Quality Mobile Detailing.

I decided that I’d give it a try, and it completely changed my mom game. Here’s why: I didn’t have to load up my kid and dog into the car and drive to drop it off for a half day of work and be carless killing time waiting for it to be done. That in itself would have been impossible. Maybe I could have it done on the weekend when the hubby is home from work, but it’s still not an ideal way to spend a family weekend.

The guy who owns Quality Mobile Detailing is a really nice guy named Brennen who is a dad himself. He came to the house, unloaded all the crap that wasn’t garbage and brought it to my door for me to put away. Then he completely detailed the interior and did a clay bar wax on the outside and cleaned the headlights. Weirdly the headlight cleaning reminded me of teeth whitening but on a car, but anyways, it was wonderful and I never had to leave the house. My daughter loved watching the bubbles covering the car. Oh yeah, did I forget to mention that she screams and gets scared through the drive through car washes (so that’s out)? As for the carseat, he vacuumed and wiped it out well and explained how it’s against his liability insurance to remove the seat from its position.

I will definitely call Brennen again. As a mom we learn a lot of tricks, life hacks, and routines that help us function survive and thrive. I think that I just found a new trick to step up my mom game!

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It was recently my oldest son’s seventh birthday, and as I reflect on the last seven years, I’m in disbelief of how fast it went — but also, how much has changed in our lives in those seven years. When you are in the midst of the dirty diapers, tantrums, no sleep, hormones, post-partum depression, and everyday crazy, time ticks by as slow as can be, yet it is also moving the fastest it ever has. It’s so hard to explain, but once you become a parent, it all makes sense!

I know as a mom, I am thinking daily about how bad I am probably screwing up, how much I will have to pitch in for my kid’s therapy (we have a “C” fund, which can be used for college or counseling lol), and how it is even POSSIBLE to love something so much it seems to take over your entire body/brain/being!

Of course, before we had kids, we knew EVERYTHING about being parents, and knew exactly how we would raise our kids and exactly how they would behave, because they were ours! And since we were raising them RIGHT, they would be perfect and do everything we want them to, right? Anyone else experience this phenomenon of the “know-it-all” non-parents? When you’re in this zone, you really like to tell people who actually have kids how to deal with their children and what we would do if we were them! What a kick in the face when you actually have that screaming newborn enter the world and turn everything upside down, right?
We are super lucky: Our boys are actually really good, and they get along so well. They were good babies, pretty good toddlers (man though, those 2s and 3s: HARSH!), and Kaleb is turning out to be one of the sweetest, most empathetic, smartest kids I have been around! But even with good kids, parenting is SO FUCKING HARD! And it requires F-bombs, so if you don’t like curse words, just stop reading! There are millions of parenting books, but I feel like the best thing to do is really listen, really empathize, and really get to know your kids. I want my kids to be open and honest with me, and I want them to look at me as a safe space where they won’t be judged. That doesn’t mean that they won’t be disciplined or that we will let things slide. We have very serious conversations about very serious topics and behavior. I want my boys to accept others, to be a friend to anyone who needs one, and to also be strong enough to not fall into the “everybody’s doing it” downfall. I want them to stand up for others who are being bullied, and also realize that the people doing the bullying are doing it from a place of pain, so we should try to understand and not judge.

Some people might think that is naive, but I’ve already seen how our serious conversations play out in my sons’ lives. Jamie came home the other day saying there was a new kid in class and he was very shy, so I told him that maybe he should introduce himself the next school day and see if he wanted to play. He was so excited when he got home to tell me that he had a new friend named Jack and they played outside together.
Proud mommy moment for an amazing 3-year-old. Kaleb has a way of befriending a few trouble makers, much like his momma. And I have to be diligent in talking to him about these friendships; as much as it can drive me crazy when he gets in trouble because of certain kids, at the same time he tells me that he is friends with them because of xyz, and they are important reasons to him. I finally got to meet one of these kiddos at Kaleb’s recent birthday party, and he was such a sweet boy, just not from the greatest home situation. Kaleb is a helper, just like me, and a caring person, just like me, and now I see why he is gravitating towards this boy. I can’t parent the other kid, so the best thing I can do is make sure that Kaleb is staying true to himself and realizing that he doesn’t have to join in when others are acting out and getting into trouble, which he is getting much better at.

I can hardly believe that I am done with the baby/toddler years, and now the HARD part is starting: helping my kids turn into decent humans and put their mark on this world. I’m amazed every day by my boys, the things that they think up, their amazing imaginations, and the way they see the world around them. I learn something every day about them and about myself and about life in general. The world we live in now is completely different than when I was growing up, and it is a challenging place to be a parent. But really truly listen to these beings that you created, because children’s wisdom can be one of the greatest teachers in life.

I’m so thankful that they are growing up surrounded by amazing family and people in my life. Kaleb was almost 2 when I joined my home business, and I try and share as much of the positive influences as I can with them while I’m working. They love affirmations, positivity, and helping others. I love that my company is so supportive of mothers and families, and I love that the life I’m building is influencing them and showing them to always reach for your dreams and to never quit on yourself. When my boys spout off something that they learned because of watching me work for my dreams, it brings tears to my eyes, hope to my heart, and so much love for this culture that I have been so blessed to be a part of. I can’t wait to be able to take them on earned trips and show them the world through travel with like-minded people and families. They are my why, and I will never quit on my dreams of building our lives on our terms and not needing to take a vacation from the hum-drum, everyday drag that an ordinary life can be.

HUGE Shout out to all of you mommas out there. Being a mom is the most difficult thing I have ever done in my life, but also the most rewarding. Having kids is like watching your heart outside of your body running around in someone else. You will do anything for them, and you can’t explain the utter amount of love you have for them and that they bring into your life. So, to you moms…I see you…I understand you…I love you…and I am cheering you on!

Happy seventh birthday, Kaleb Joseph. You made me a mom on March 29, 2011, and it is my greatest accomplishment to be your mother.

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This month I’ve been feeling a bit burned out. Can anyone else out there relate? I’m as busy as anyone else, so I can’t play the “I’m sooo busy” card. I’m not complaining, just simply stating the facts. Lately, I’M TIRED. I’d like to make more room in my life for self-care, especially during these times when I feel particularly more burned out on the Mama life.

So, here’s a quick list of 10 things for all of us to do for self-care, especially in favor of those trying to be budget conscious. (A.K.A., hopefully you can spend a whopping 5 bucks on yourself, or get lucky and find some of these ingredients in cupboards).

Here we go.

1. Epsom salt/essential oil bath. AMAZING! All you need is 2 cups of epsom salts, ½ cup baking soda, and as many drops of essential oil as you think you need. (I’ve used 8-10 drops of lavender and that’s been perfect!) I get my essential oils from a friend who sells Young Living, but you can definitely find essential oils inexpensively in stores like Whole Foods, or other local stores that focus on natural living.
2. Give yourself a spa pedicure. Seriously, this is embarrassing. But, about a month ago, my toes were heinous (hello, winter in Reno), and my kids were napping, so I got right to it. I boiled some water in a giant bowl (probably 6 cups) with about 1 cup of epsom salt and ½ a cup of baking soda — notice that’s almost the same recipe as above? I waited for it to cool just a bit, dipped my feel in and soaked. It was amazing. Then I painted my toes. (And saved $35-$65!).
3. Make a cup of tea or coffee and get lost in a book! Don’t underestimate this one. For me, something about having a hot beverage in my hand and no children around immediately relaxes me. And reading — it takes me out of my reality for just a short time, which is so needed sometimes!
4. Color. I’m not even kidding. Have you tried adult coloring? I have yet to buy an adult coloring book, so instead I color Paw Patrol books, ha! From time to time, Target sells adult coloring books for $1-$5 in their dollar section.
5. Purge something. (Seems kind of contradictory when you’re looking for rest and self-care, right?) But don’t knock this one until you try it. Pick one small area of your home, and purge what no longer fits into your life. It’s cathartic. You can make a pile for donating/giving away, one for keeping, one for recycling, and one for trash. (There are lots of other cool methods of purging out there; this is just the system I use.)
6. Journal. There are many different ways to journal, but my personal favorite is bullet journaling. It isn’t fancy. I can get my thoughts out fast. It’s a healthy way for us to release things sometimes!
7. Give yourself some DIY skincare treatment. Target has some inexpensive moisturizing eye gel pads and face masks that you can purchase individually for $2-$3 each. Trader Joe’s also has some natural skincare items that you can purchase fairly inexpensively (like Vitamin E Oil, and so forth). If you want to raid your pantry and use what’s already on hand, just do that! Check pinterest (or Dr. Google) for some natural face masks. Avocado, coconut oil, oatmeal, yogurt, honey, and so forth have amazing benefits to skin.
8. Listen to a podcast while doing your favorite activity. Some of my personal favorite channels are: The Minimalists; God Centered Mom; and Janet Lansbury Unruffled. It’s amazing — there are podcasts on just about everything.
9. Make yourself a new music playlist. I don’t do this one enough! (Nursery rhymes are on repeat).
10. Go for a walk or exercise. Hello, natural endorphins. Such a great way to relieve stress.

What are some of your favorite self-care activities? Is there anything you can add to the list? Tell us in the comments!

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‘Twas the night before the new baby

And all through the house 

Not a creature was stirring

Not even a mouse

The hospital bags were hung by the garage door with care

Knowing a new baby 

Soon would be there

Our daughter was nestled

All snug in her bed

While visions of a baby brother or sister 

Danced in her head

We just welcomed our second child this past week, and what an emotional roller coaster it has been! I counsel people often on this, but going through it myself has been a very different experience. You always hear that parents have the fear of not being able to “share the love” or care about the second one the same way, and I was having a lot of those fears myself, even through I knew they were irrational. But once I saw my daughter hold our newborn baby girl with all the love in the world in her eyes, those fears melted away. 

Another irrational, strong feeling I had in the weeks leading up to the birth of our second child was a deep sadness for our first child — sadness for her loss of being the center of attention, having to share our (and our families) time and affection, and for the immense change our family was about to undergo, even though I knew giving her a sibling was the best gift we could give her for so many reasons. Darn pregnancy hormones!

Once the baby was here, I thought there would be fits and acting out and moodiness. And at a week out, NONE of this has happened. Our oldest has taken this change in amazing stride, absolutely adores her baby sister, and has been fiercely protective of her. We are only a week into this, so I know there will be moments where there is jealousy, but so far so good! I think her age (almost 4 years old) has a lot to do with this, as every child does transition to having a sibling differently. 

I received a lot of good advice on how to help transition our oldest when the new baby arrived, and it has all been really helpful. We made sure that her baby sister brought her a “gift” to the hospital (just a few little toys wrapped for her) and gave her her own baby doll to dress, feed, and take care of. Someone also gave us a “big sister basket,” which was such a cute idea — it had snacks for the hospital, a big sister shirt and book to read the baby, and a few activities for her to work on while we were in the hospital as well. 

Another thing that had been recommended was a special basket of toys for our older child to play with while I am breastfeeding the new one, so that she had her own fun, different things to work on particularly while I have been more occupied feeding the baby. 

There is no “right” was to transition your family with a new baby, and of course everyone will have different experiences — just wanted to share some of mine to help guide the journey! 

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As I type this, my adorable, amazing, spectacular 4-year-old is adjacent to me.

Notice I did not say “next to me”; I said, “adjacent” — in mathematical terms, “having a common vertex and a common side.”

In mommy terms: touching me. So. Very. Much. Touching.

My child is always touching me.

I love this tiny human with every fiber of my being, and yet, I have come to learn that I am wired in a way that is the antithesis of “constant touching.”

I’m an introvert. I feel like even that term needs some explanation, because socially, introversion has routinely been undervalued and almost seen as something to overcome. In my personal experience, the connotation has definitely been negative, as most of my peers have seemed to equate “introversion” with being shy, a wall flower, socially maladjusted, no fun, or a total stick in the mud.

But introversion is a mostly genetic personality trait that has nothing to do with shyness. These are two different constructs. What it does pertain to is how you derive your energy: You are drained by social encounters and energized by solitary, often creative pursuits. Many introverts can socialize easily, they just often choose not to — or they need time to re-charge after social experiences.

So I spent the majority of my life pretending to be the opposite of what I was wired to be. While studying for my master’s degree, I taught journalism and speech classes at UNR, and it was at this point that I first became aware of who I was deep down. Because teaching EXHAUSTED me. I think I was pretty good at it, and I loved doing it; but I always came home after classes and just wanted to curl up in the fetal position with the lights out and sleep for like an eternity.

I honestly thought there was something wrong with me.

But there was nothing wrong with me. I’m just an introvert. And it has taken me the better part of a lifetime to figure that out and fully embrace it.

Embracing my introversion as a parent has been a bit more difficult. Because these tiny bundles of endless talk and touching and togetherness don’t understand that a person could possibly need quiet and calm and space and NOT TOUCHING. I’ve managed to thrive professionally by knowing I need seclusion to do my best thinking, but when you’re the parent of a baby or toddler, seclusion is as elusive as a meltdown-free day.

(And PS, need help identifying if you’re an introverted parent? Consider this question: Do you love your child just a teensy-weensy bit more when they’re asleep or reading quietly by themselves? Then you’re probably an introvert. And I’m only semi-joking here. Totally joking. Really not that much joking.)

Anyhow, society tends to reward people who are extroverts in most aspects of our lives. Extroverts tend to be the vocal contributors in team meetings at work — and thus tend to earn more respect and rewards. In terms of parenting, extroverts will likely step up to the plate to be the team coach for baseball, just as they will be the parent who throws the best themed parties for birthdays.

But let’s take a few minutes to flip the script on parenting as an introvert. Because many of the things that make us who we are deep down are the very things that will also have long-term benefits for our children — whether they are introverted or extroverted.

For example:

We may not be the queen of playdates, but…

If you’re an introvert, the idea of a “playdate” may cause instant flop sweat. And that’s totally normal. You’ll likely overcome it enough to put up with a few for your tiny bundle of constant touching, but trust me when I say: He or she won’t become the next Unabomber because you did not host copious playdates. Instead, think of the upside: What you lack in desire to be part of the playdate posse, you’ll likely more than make up for in appreciation for the quiet aspects of life. They’ll need picnics, and hikes, and just finding vantage points to watch the clouds, too. In fact, teaching them some of the value in the quiet — in this crazy, bustling world — is probably an oft-overlooked aspect of parenting.

We may get annoyed with the constant touching, but…

Your child does need to understand concepts of personal space, so every once in a while alerting them to their adjacentness is not entirely bad. Try designating favorite “alone” spaces in your house, and when necessary, go to your respective corners. I’ve never met a child who didn’t like a tent, a canopy or a fort, so make a game out of it. And while you’re at it, build a tent or fort for yourself — literally or figuratively.

We may become overwhelmed by the constant noise, but…

Many introverts are also something called a “highly sensitive personality.” If you hate the sound of people chewing, avoid horror movies and/or can hear earthquakes before they happen (seriously — I’m an HSP, and “calling” an earthquake before it happens has become something of a game in my family), then you might consider researching this a little more here and taking the quiz to find out if you are one here.

It’s totally ok to embrace quiet as a parent. In fact, again in this highly digital age, having a 30-minute reading wind-down when EVERYONE in the family is expected to read quietly will actually put your kids at an advantage in life. They’ll develop a love of reading, and they’ll likely appreciate the idea of relaxation techniques like reading or quiet time as they age.

We may not be the life of every social interaction, but…

You can always adopt an extrovert! Many introverts find that their closest friends are fundamentally different in terms of personalities, which is a wonderful thing if he or she can serve as your parenting wingman. Going to the school carnival, for example? Your happy extrovert will happily accompany you — and even do the cake walk on your behalf.

We may not get a ton of alone time, but…

There’s always bedtime! And hey, science suggests that introverts are far better at being sleep-deprived, so there’s that, too.

So after all of this, I’d love to hear your thoughts on parenting as an introvert. Tell me the good and the bad by leaving a comment below or on the Facebook thread.

And by the way, are you interested in learning more about how introverts and extroverts can thrive? I’ll be giving a lunch-hour NCET Biz Bite presentation this Wednesday, April 25 at the Atlantis called “Introverts and extroverts unite! (Just sometimes separately and alone.)” Register here to join me and learn about how the two personality types can best operate — jointly and separately — in today’s workplaces.

And now I’m off to my parenting fort for 30 minutes of non-adjacentness.

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Last week I suffered a major blow… a huge professional disappointment. It was devastatingly shocking, and I found it difficult to crush back my tears and proceed forward. My first instinct was to give up. I thought, “That was my absolute best… if my best is not good enough, then I am not good enough and I should just quit trying.” I felt broken and helpless and so very discouraged. I swallowed tears for a few hours before heading home and letting the floodgates open. My children and husband hugged me and gave me those shocked looks of sympathy only evoked when mommy acts totally crazy… you know, the kind of helpless expression that exactly mirrored the helplessness I felt inside. Time, as always, was a soothing balm, and 24 hours later, I was still disappointed, but no longer weepy and heart-broken.

This made me think about disappointment. How do we handle it? How should we handle it? And perhaps most importantly, how can we teach our children how to handle disappointment?

The following morning, I woke up and dropped my kids off at school, where a priceless friend met me in the parking lot to take my littlest daughter and give me kind words of reassurance, condolence, and love. Meanwhile, seeing her sweet, caring face only proved to make my tears relentlessly slide down my face. I hurriedly left, trying to salvage the mascara I had stupidly applied that morning. I won’t pretend to be perfect at handling setbacks, but I will say that I have come a long, long, long way in the world of coping mechanisms and strategies. You see, for nearly two decades I struggled with bulimia, alcoholism, and drug addiction. My book, The Pathways Home details the debilitating struggles of feeling such inadequacy. For almost two decades, the world’s reverberating message plastered on every billboard, magazine, and sign told me the same thing: You are not enough. And I believed them…for far too long. I wrote a whole book. And then, when I had this one disappointment after a decade of sobriety and learning my actual value, for a split second, I let those old demons creep back into my mind. They urgently reiterated the same distorted message that caused me (and my family) so much anguish all those years ago. You did not get the promotion, so you are not enough. But this time, I did not succumb to the lies that our consumer-driven society was selling. Instead, I thought, how can I handle this? Where can I turn for peace?

I drove with tearful eyes to a place that I could turn to for peace. For me, it is the temple, but I know that peace is found in different places for all of us. In the case of disappointments, figure out where you can turn for peace. Then go there. It might be different each time based on the circumstance of your trial, but listen to your inner voice and go where you will feel peace. While there, I realized that I needed to go visit my dad’s grave. I have never been there by myself, and I have never considered the cemetery a place of peace for me. It was actually quite surprising when I instinctually felt the urgent drive to go there.

Upon arrival, I realized how important it was to be there. Again, as tears rolled down my face, I heard over and over again in my tender daddy’s voice, “Lenaya you are so capable. You are the most capable person I know.” That word, capable, played on repeat in my mind until I knew that the adjective he had described me with my whole life was every bit as applicable in the face of a disappointment as in any other time of my life. I left the cemetery feeling buoyed, confident, and strengthened. Then, on the way home, I got a sweet phone call from my husband, who said all the things I needed to hear. This further emboldened me to know beyond a doubt that this was not the end of the world, nor was this the end of my attempts to procure this particular promotion. I would try again… and again… and again if need be.

By the time I returned to my friend and gathered my littlest, I felt that surge of excitement that often accompanies risks, courage, and willingness to look at challenges square in the eyes, perhaps afraid or even terrified, and proceed forward anyway. Of course, I was still disappointed, but rather than feeling like that meant I was not smart, talented, intelligent enough, I understood that set-backs are the very thing that make us who we are. How can I expect to have strength of character if I have never had to persevere? I realized I needed to apply what I already knew: We have to experience trials in order to grow.

Later that evening, on a date with my hubby, I saw a sign that said, “Grow through what you go through.”

Touché Target sign, touché.

A few days later, I overheard my 6-year-old son talking to his Legos. He was berating himself for being bad every day, for having all bad days, and for being a bad person. Fear gripped my heart in the way that happens when we see something in our children and instantly ask, “How did I miss this?!” My husband gently asked him what he was talking about. My son explained how he threw fits, and talked back, and disobeyed every day and so he always had bad days and he was, in fact, a bad person. I listened as my husband softly explained how important it is to use our trials for growth, to learn from our mistakes and become better. I interjected that bad choices did not equate bad person; that he is a wonderful person, and no matter how many bad choices he makes, he will still be a wonderful person. But also, my heart broke a little as I realized that I have not clearly illustrated to him, or my girls, the importance of disappointments and trials. As a parent, I often hide my own heart-ache in what I thought was protection, which has turned out to be a major disadvantage. I realized the way I speak to him, the way I discipline him, and the things I share with him in my own life’s journey need to change.

Later that week, while at a fabulous family literacy class I have been taking with my son, the first part of the presentation was about how we speak to our children and what is called a growth mindset or fixed mindset. (Divine intervention much?!) The presenters spoke about the importance of using failure as a way for learning and using praise when children have to struggle through something that is really hard. The example they gave was if your child easily learns a skill, reading, counting, whatever, and you say, “You are so smart,” then what happens when they have to work harder at acquiring a skill in the future? Do they internalize that they must be dumb since this is not an effortless acquisition of skills? Instead, the presenters urged parents to praise children by talking about how hard they worked, how they stuck with it even though it was hard, and how they tried again after failure. Rather than them feeling like a failure themselves, they are able to build their confidence and trust in their ability to overcome obstacles and not be defined by their failures.

From Brainpickings.org: 

“At the heart of what makes the ‘growth mindset’ so winsome, is that it creates a passion for learning rather than a hunger for approval. Its hallmark is the conviction that human qualities like intelligence and creativity, and even relational capacities like love and friendship, can be cultivated through effort and deliberate practice. Not only are people with this mindset not discouraged by failure, but they don’t actually see themselves as failing in those situations — they see themselves as learning.”

On this same website, there is a comparison of the two worlds, a fixed mindset and a growth mindset. Dweck states:

“When you enter a mindset, you enter a new world. In one world — the world of fixed traits — success is about proving you’re smart or talented. Validating yourself. In the other — the world of changing qualities — it’s about stretching yourself to learn something new. Developing yourself. In one world, failure is about having a setback. Getting a bad grade. Losing a tournament. Getting fired. Getting rejected. It means you’re not smart or talented. In the other world, failure is about not growing. Not reaching for the things you value. It means you’re not fulfilling your potential. In one world, effort is a bad thing. It, like failure, means you’re not smart or talented. If you were, you wouldn’t need effort. In the other world, effort is what makes you smart or talented.”

So, the moral of the story: it is CRITICAL that we embrace disappointment, failure, set-backs, and challenges as a BENEFICIAL part of our journey. I need to be better at teaching my children how important failure is. I need to show them how I handle disappointment. And I need to grow through what I go through so that they can have that example in their lives. This is a lesson we all have to learn throughout our lives… sometimes repeatedly. But I know that I can do hard things, and neither my accomplishments nor my failures define me. Instead, the way I handle both will determine the type of person I am and can become.

Together, we have to overcome the often deafening voice saying that we need to buy x, y, and z in order to be enough. Instead, by changing our mindsets, we can learn that our disappointments and how we handle them might be the very thing that makes us enough.

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It was March, and I was in about week 4 of my depression. I have always had a tendency toward depression, though in the last few years I had been pretty consistently happy. But then that kid shot up a high school in Florida.

Of all the social media outlets, I’ve always preferred Facebook, and as a person who works from home and spends much of her day alone, I’ve thought of it as a way to engage in meaningful conversations and to find like-minded people with whom I can discuss shared experiences. I hear about events and get-togethers, I join groups of politically, socially, and intellectually similar people, stay connected to faraway friends and family members, and stay in touch with the world.

But then February 14 happened, and my terror of guns and outrage over the fact that this keeps happening to kids and that we are doing nothing … well, I hit a sort of breaking point. Like those folks who, after 9/11, couldn’t shut off their TVs or radios and obsessed over the news, unable to turn away from the horror, I became obsessed with guns and school shootings and my terror and indignation over all of it. I engaged in some magical thinking: If I stay attentive, read everything there is to know, think about it nonstop, plan for every possible disaster, engage in every discussion, join every group, read ALL THE THINGS … I can keep my family safe.

I pored over Facebook incessantly. I wept, incessently.

And then I took a break, because mental health. I deleted that sucker from my phone and exhaled.

I felt better. It was after the National School Walkout, after the March for Our Lives. About two weeks had gone by without once looking at Facebook, and I thought, “Well, they’re probably not talking about it so much now, I’m probably okay to get back on and visit with some folks on Facebook.”

And they were done, mostly. But then there were these tidbits:

• Posts about new or remodeled, gargantuan-sized homes
• Photos from vacations we can’t afford to take
• Folks having nasty political arguments they would never have in person
• A photo of a $300 pair of shoes someone treated herself to and is now obsessed with
• Friends I haven’t seen in ages getting together with other friends (aka without me)
• A friend my age who looks freaking amazing in a swimsuit obsessing about diets and weight-loss
• Another friend’s insufferable, attention-seeking, “If people only knew how lonely I am…” post

After what felt like an obligatory check-in, a small respite in the workday, I felt drained, depressed, jealous, left out, angry, disappointed, and basically just annoyed and irritated by people I usually liked and respected. I felt, ironically, like a high school kid all over again. And if you know my personal experience with high school, you know this isn’t a good thing.

I shared this with my husband, who coincidentally never visits Facebook and only occasionally pops onto Twitter or Instagram. His response? “Yeah, I have never felt good after going on Facebook.”

I thought about that and had to admit, maybe I never had either.

I’ve known lots of people — family members, even — who have made big (and I would say somewhat overly dramatic) “I AM LEAVING FACEBOOK!” pronouncements, citing “I want more time with my family,” or “I’m trying to break my phone addiction,” or even the lame, “I’m so busy I need to focus on work right now.” Those are all, I guess, valid reasons. I suppose they are added benefits I’m receiving as well. They aren’t really my reasons, though. Mostly it’s this: I just feel better when I’m off.

My work doesn’t really allow me to stay off. Networking, staying informed, sharing business news, selling things on the Marketplace, sending messages to businesses I need to speak with, and, let’s be honest, being a contributor to Reno Moms Blog … these are all reasons that make it necessary for me to be on, and it certainly is great for those things. A lot of my work is dependent upon it. It’s benefited me in a lot of ways. And it’s a wonderful way to share big news or fun things about my daughter and family and work, quickly. It’s a curse, but in many ways it’s a blessing, I totally admit that.

But even my once-daily check-in depletes my energy. I get tired of comparing myself to other people. I wish I had the inner strength to be unaffected by it. I’d love to sit here and tell you I’m happy for my friends and their beauty, their work success, their well-earned vacations, or their popularity. I guess now’s the time to admit I’m not, and I’m not proud of that. Don’t get me wrong, if a dear friend called me and announced she was flying abroad for the first time or buying a new home, or if I spotted her awesome shoes and asked where she got them, these things wouldn’t bug me. I can’t really explain why that is. It’s not that I don’t want good things for my friends. (Cue the hateful comments from strangers on Facebook about how I’m a shitty friend.) But the whole social media thing just never makes me feel good. I’m weak, I guess. But for me, it’s like the high school yearbook all over again — how many people can I be seen with, how many inside jokes can make their way in there, and how many signatures can I get? It’s a race I might finally be too tired to run.

In the last month I’ve had Facebook off my phone, without that mindless, time-filling scrolling that wears me down, I’ve looked out the window more. I’ve been more present with friends and family during social activities because I haven’t felt the need to share photographic proof of it with strangers. And I feel a lot less depressed. It’s just a thing that helped me. And it’s a lot cheaper than therapy.

Do I realize the irony of saying all this and knowing damn well I’ll be sharing it on Facebook (via my computer) and checking a few times that day to see if people like it? Of course. I am human. This is not to say it’s all or nothing. I’ll still be there, albeit less often.

But in taking this one small step — taking it off my phone and controlling it, without letting it control me — the world feels a little less scary and alienating. And I just feel better.

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