Only a parent could relish being the rotten egg. But I do, for lots of reasons, only one of which is that I can spare my kids -- at least for that one moment -- from having to hold the stinky title.
I was recently in a photo shoot featuring breast cancer survivors who had endured a double mastectomy with out breast reconstruction. The photoshoot went viral and network after network supported the efforts of the movement to showcase these incredible women. But the feedback wasn't all positive.
We face so many transitions in midlife and our children leaving the nest is one of them. It's bittersweet. We're excited for them as they embark on this next stage, I remember my excitement leaving home. We also dread the silence, the emptiness, yes, even the dirty washing.
Are you worried the best in life has already occurred? Wish you could get that zing back in you life when you felt like you were on top of the world? Life happens. Things get in the way. Instead of everything being new, everything feels like it's been around the block a few times.
Children freak me out. Now, I don't mean they freak me out in general. They freak me out for very specific reasons. Those reasons have to do with my husband, who had a Double Lung Transplant almost two years ago.
I have a personal hate-hate relationship with all things technical. Change one little thing on your computer and it's like the butterfly in Australia that flaps its wings and causes tornados in Kansas. Trying to fix it changes enough things to add monsoons in Asia.
I don't reach out as often as I should. But I see your beautiful families. And I smile.
Sister, you do you in college. Won't that be great?
If you've noticed that your parent has become frail and in need of care, then you've probably noticed something else ... this care is really crazy expensive!
Back in Waterford, Ireland this week for my first visit in years, I'm taking a fresh look. I'm impressed and, to tell you the truth, surprised by how much my former hometown has improved itself.
Summer is sputtering to a close. It's almost September and all across the country, the nest is emptying once again for another set of parents. It's been years since our youngest child has left for college, but I remember that time well. It was a year of painful adjustment.
I might have liked the Square Dance unit in gym class if I hasn't been a head taller than every boy in the universe. I'm sure the cute, short girls had buckets of fun in the 1960s allemanding left and promenading all over the place. Remind me to poll them on Facebook.
Just about everyone gets a bad boss sooner or later. At my age, I've been through several. My motto has always been, 'Just Outlast the Bastard.' For the most part, that mantra has worked. But now I also do something else.
Our generation gets a bad rap for supposedly being behind the times and slow to learn. Experts, however, tell us that nothing can be further from the truth. Here is some advice and reassurance for boomers who may be wondering if the times have indeed passed them by.
My husband bought me a massage table. I'm not kidding. A really good, really pricey table, with accessories! Felty-soft table bedding and a collection of lavender-infused oils and lotions.
I no longer think that what I have to say is unimportant and I no longer care if I think no one wants to hear it because frankly, I'm tired of being polite. So yes, I do have something to say so sit down and I refuse to wait any longer for someone to ask what I think.