I remember as a child my father always telling us that our PawPaw had a hard time around the Holidays because he had lost his brothers. I thought this was sad, but I didn’t appreciate the gravity of this statement until walking that same road became part of my story. I had one sister (Kari) [...]
After a summer of great ice-cream (I still ate dairy) in New Hampshire and lots of food, I decided it was time to start working out. I knew all the paleo people talked about CrossFit, so that is what I would try and much to my surprise that first day, my husband was right by my side even though he had not exercised in even more years than I had. That first day was rough: everything was foreign to me. The warm up was jumping rope. Umm, I think I can remember when I jumped rope in elementary school, but we were not doing a leisurely double dutch.
My commute was progressing as usual: at each stop more commuters sardined themselves into the subway car on the 1/9 line headed downtown. At 51st street, just 10 blocks from my work and 1 subway stop away, a woman entered the train in an absolute panic. A few of the jaded commuters glanced up at her. Frustrated, she started screaming loudly,
If only I could go back and talk to the younger, much more stressed out me. I would remind that Pinterest-informed mamma of what she preached but fell short of practicing: those are all things that really don't matter. If anything, they’re more counterproductive than helpful: trying to have everything perfect stresses you out, and (even worse) can be a stumbling block for other moms, fueling feelings of inadequacy and intimidation.