No longer first Bookmark and Share

No longer first

During a recent conversation with a friend, we talked about how it sometimes seems that we’ve hit all of the “firsts” in life and how that can be difficult sometimes.

The first 40 years are full of firsts: first day of school, first kiss, first love, first car, first apartment, first job, first (and if you’re lucky only) marriage, maybe first baby. So many things to look forward to and then you hit this point in life and wonder, what is there to look forward to? What are the next firsts? And that lack of firsts brings a ...

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Lessons learned from a superball Bookmark and Share

Tuesday morning I was up to my ankles in soapy water by the end of my shower. Odd since the night before the water from my daughter’s bath went down just fine. Then I remembered she had been playing with her superball in the tub. She “saw” it bounce out of the tub, but since we looked everywhere for it Tuesday morning, I began to suspect it was more than a chunk of soap and my impending baldness that was clogging the drain.

Still optimistic about the soap idea, I waited two nights until I told my husband the ...

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Well said Bookmark and Share

Well said

I simply loved the sentiment of this. 

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Soundtrack of my life Bookmark and Share

I've heard that smell is the strongest of our senses linked to memory. For me though, it's hearing hands down because nothing affects my memory like music. I have a theory that everyone's life has its own soundtrack, filled with those songs that no matter where you are, if you hear them you are transported back in time. 

My own soundtrack began with my mom strumming the guitar and singing "All I have to do is dream" by the Everly Brothers. I was probably about 3. Kenny Rogers's "The Gambler" oddly enough takes me back to ...

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Please hit pause Bookmark and Share

"Let's go. Hurry up. Get a move on. We're going to be late." 

My daughter is the epitome of what it is to live in the moment, each moment given the powerful sense of awareness and observation that it deserves. Yet each day, she must contend with my pushing her from moment to moment, a constant "come on!" as if what she is doing has no value. When we leave the house, more often than not she asks if we will be late. I feel sheer joy on the rare occasions when I can say that this time ...

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