Even though it’s March, my high school senior is still receiving mailings from colleges.
To quote my youngest daughter, “Who was the marketing genius behind this?!”
But for her, the “where to apply” question has been answered, her die has been cast, that ship has sailed and whatever other cliché can cover NO MORE APPLICATIONS. However, “where will she go?” is the question on everyone’s lips from her grandparents to her dentist, and the one that has me perching expectantly on the edge of my seat.
As is often the way with Facebook, College Admissions: How to Survive While Your Kid Waits came through my feed at exactly the time I needed it. Full of commiseration and tongue-in-cheek chuckles, it got me to thinking about what this waiting period really is like. Before the calendar flipped to March, I just used that age-old coping strategy employed by horror film damsels and political candidates alike–I denied/ignored/squashed my apprehension. But as the trees start to bloom, so does my perturbation. Wait, back that up, I’m not really perturbed or filled with dread so much as the suspense is killing me. It’s a lot like waiting for Christmas morning.
Yes! It’s like Christmas morning: the wiggly ants in your pants anticipation, that giddy feeling that makes it hard to fall asleep, the wondering what you’re going to get and when you can show it to your friends. Except St. Nick ends the torture on the same day every year. There’s no “is this the day?!” Yeah, and no one gets their presents four months ahead of everyone else just for making a short list and turning it in early. (I’m looking at you early decision-ers.) Hey, but Santa does make parents foot the bill so this analogy still works on some levels.
Maybe it’s more like sitting by the phone waiting to get asked to prom. The whole “will he or won’t he?” layered over “will today be the day?” Calm down, I’m talking back in the era of landlines and bad perms because of course modern young women don’t have to wait to be asked. I’m just trying to channel the fluttery hope, the endless dissection of what might happen, but this probably isn’t right, either. One rejection letter could transform this “High School Musical” into the blood bath from “Carrie.” Also, I’ve tweaked my own feminism with this example, so let’s just agree there was more wrong with the 80s than just the sky-high bangs, and move on.
Maybe it’s more like winning The Publishers Clearing House Sweepstakes! (Oh yes I just googled to see if it’s still a thing, and it is!) That Prize Patrol captures the manna from heaven, out of the blue, gift of it all excitement. I would totally not be against dumping the contents of the paper shredder over my girl to celebrate the moment. But you know what? This isn’t right either. Even though admissions are tough, my daughter has better odds of getting an acceptance than 1 in 200,000,000 because it’s not just up to chance. My girl has worked hard, tested well, and thoughtfully chosen schools. While there are so many wonky factors that go into admissions and fabulous candidates have to be in the rejection pile, too, this isn’t a game of roulette. Also, we’ll be the ones handing over the check so “womp, womp.”
You know what this is like exactly? A continuation of the wild ride that is motherhood: never knowing exactly what is around the corner and meeting that unknown with high hopes seasoned liberally with apprehension. I’m a mother who has loved her daughter with all of her heart since the moment I laid eyes on her. The loving was easy, but navigating motherhood? Not so much. I was so completely overwhelmed and floored by all it took to mother my daughter through childhood, and now here she teeters on the brink of adulthood waiting to see where she can take that next step and I am electric with excitement. All I can do is continue to love her, trust in God that she will end up where she belongs . . . and totally and completely keep ALL of my nervous trepidation to myself. Shhhhh!
In case you’re new here, an important piece of introductory information is that I have my M.D. I use it for everything . . . except making money. Another important thing to know is that I walked away from the career because it was not a good fit for me; I was not asked to leave. I was actually pretty good. Just ask my friends because they ask me for medical advice ALL OF THE TIME.
I studied and trained at the University of Maryland Medical System giving me extensive surgical, emergency, and Shock Trauma experiences you can only get in Baltimore. The first time I sutured another human being was during my first day in the pediatric emergency room as a third year student. It was a little boy who had a gash on his finger. I actually sweated through my scrubs during the millennium it took me to place the five sutures. There was seriously a puddle on my stainless steel stool. But that sweet boy rewarded me with words I still cherish today: “You’re a really good doctor.” Kids sure can lift you up, that is, when they’re not busy taking you down.
Since that time, I’ve logged in many hours of wound evaluation and care. You get to benefit from this experience to determine if you need to giddy-up to urgent care.
Criteria for Stitches
The wound will not stop bleeding
It is deeper than ¼ inch
The edges are ragged
The wound is gaping (the edges aren’t together)
Additionally, seek medical attention if . . .
The wound is a puncture deeper than ¼ inch
The injury resulted from a rusty or very dirty object
All of the debris can’t be removed from the cut or abrasion
The wound is on the face or neck
There was a blow to the head or any loss of consciousness
The wound is an animal or human bite
Date of last tetanus shot is unknown
You have a history of MRSA
Signs of infection develop such as redness and pus
Wound Care for Treating Minor Cuts
To stop bleeding, apply gentle pressure with a clean cloth or bandage for at least 15 minutes. (Maxi pads are excellent for this, by the way.) This will seem like FOREVER, but don’t lift the compress! You’ll really need to time yourself to hold pressure long enough. Trust me. If possible, raise the body part above the level of the heart to slow bleeding. Never apply a tourniquet unless advised by a medical professional.
Rinse wound thoroughly with clean water or saline solution to remove dirt and debris. DO NOT use hydrogen peroxide or rubbing alcohol because they are damaging to cells and may increase scarring.
Clean area around the wound area with soap and water on a washcloth. Avoid getting soap in wound initially because it will burn. Pat dry with a clean cloth.
Apply a thin layer of antibiotic ointment and cover with a clean dressing. Keep the wound covered while healing. Contrary to popular belief, letting a cut “air out” does not promote healing and may increase scarring.
It is always a good idea to have a complete first-aid kit in your car and your home. You may think you don’t need a kit because you have all the supplies in your home, but by having a kit, you can just tell someone where to grab it while you are holding pressure or calling 911. I always like to have instant cold compresses, rolled gauze, and a large absorbent abdominal pad in mine. I like the one pictured below from Amazon because of the organized compartments and the comprehensive inventory of supplies. I just added a small flashlight, a lighted magnifying glass, tick removal tool, and duct tape.
Be Safe Out There Friends!
-Ellen
*No portion of this article is intended to replace the advice of your medical professional. It is always a good idea to check with your doctor.
This is a story of capitalism, big coffee, and the woman who would not be oppressed by their diabolical ways.
Okay, maybe that is a bit dramatic. Anyway . . .
I enjoy, crave, and need coffee, but I am often running short on time. When I was gifted a Keurig with its magical ability to deliver delicious coffee in minutes, it was this procrastinating caffeine addict’s dream come true. So when that one went kaput after years of service, I trotted out to buy a new one without one lick of research. The only thing on the shelf was the Keurig 2.0 and I thought, “Two point O? Fantastic! This will be even better!”
Except the 2.0 didn’t mean improved, it meant more proprietary. Seems the company’s K-Cup patent expired in 2012 and copycat K-Cups sprang up to take a bite out of Keurig’s profits. In response, Keurig developed the 2.0 that has a sensor to pick up the technology they embedded in the newly patented, next generation K-Cups.
This means old cups don’t work in your new machine even if they were designed by Keurig. Put an unlicensed or 1.0 K-Cup in your machine and you get this annoyingly cutesy message.
Okay, so no big deal. I only had three Earl Grey cups that weren’t working . . . or so I thought.
The ladies are from out of town so they spent the night at my house, and because my momma raised me right, I gave them full access to the Keurig with a refreshed and overflowing basket of K-Cups. I was feeling pretty smug about being a good hostess until I heard them call from the kitchen:
“Hey, none of these coffee things are working!”
Jessica is rightfully sad.
I have a penchant for buying in bulk at warehouse stores, but I lack the gumption and desire to rotate my stock. Seems I had just been dumping new K-Cups onto the old, but we had finally reached the bottom of the barrel so to speak. There were at least three dozen K-Cups that weren’t going to work in my machine. Now THAT is a big deal.
But there is a way around it! You just need heavy-duty scissors and scotch tape.
It’s really pretty simple. You just need to cut out the “ring” of a 2.0 K-cup. (There is also a gizmo you can buy on Amazon called a Freedom Clip, but I have not tested out how that works.)
You need to make sure to cut away the ridge or it will not fit in the machine.
Cut the foil out of the ring and just tape it on. While you really need to cut neatly, the taping is not as finicky. Just make sure the ring is seated on the cup and that you don’t tape across the center.
It worked! (To date, I have been able to brew ten cups of coffee with the one ring I cut out.)
And Jessica and Norine celebrated!
You know what would go great with that cup of coffee? Jess and Norine’s new book! These comic geniuses take all the highs and lows of parenting, apply the sciences to them, illustrate them up, and churn out humor we all can relate to.
Need an example? Check out this magnet gracing my refrigerator.
You can get your very own copy of their book on Amazon.
When I was still viewing middle age as something on the horizon, I looked down on people who thought walking was “exercise” with 100% Grade A disdain. There’s no way you could really walk yourself fit. Right?
I mean walking was for underachieving lazy people. Why walk for an hour and get only one mile, maybe two, when you could run for twenty-five minutes and travel 5K? Oh, I was never a speedy runner, but I was fast enough to justify my tortoise and the hare snobbery . . . at least in my mind.
But my knee and the pop heard ’round the block changed all that.
My knee in all of its swollen glory. My daughter thought it looked like a Cabbage Patch Doll. So she added eyes. Because laughing hysterically at my pain is the same as an “I love you”, right?!
Something in my knee gave out–while walking, I might add– and intractable pain ensued, which led to arthroscopic surgery being scheduled. Not to brag, but when I woke up from anesthesia my surgeon ever so gently told me that I have the knee of a seventy-year-old woman. Why yes, I was upset.
And thus began the blossoming romance between my booty and the chair.
During my seven week recovery period, Booty and Chair really became an item. They had flirted on and off leading up to the surgery, but the bond was cemented when Crutches formally introduced them.
Should I have realized that Booty and Chair were no good for each other? That they were on a collision course headed for mom jeans and muffin tops? Sure, in normal times, but I was pouting about how awful it was that I could no longer run. Why bother moving at all if I couldn’t move in the most efficient, hard-as-nails way possible? “No pain, no gain” was the battle cry in the 80s and I was nothing if not a child of those times.
So what did my attitude get me? Fat. It got me fat. By the end of the year, I was fifteen pounds heavier than I had ever been when I was pregnant. If I had been stupid enough to try, my old maternity clothes would not have fit me. Take a moment of silence for that soul-sucking sadness.
Something had to change and that something was getting a Fitbit Zip, joining a fitness support group, and logging back into My Fitness Pal to track my calories.
Guess what I learned? I was eating too much and moving too little. Who knew my middle-aged metabolism couldn’t burn through nachos and cookies every night?
That first day, I clipped on my Fitbit Zip sure that I would hit the magic 10000 steps because I knew I was an active person. Um, I hit about 3000.
So did I jump on my treadmill to rectify the situation? No! I turned to the internet to see if this whole 10000 step thing was bogus. And the answer was a retroactive, “it’s legit!”
While the 10000 step concept was originally thrown out there in the 1960s by a Japanese company to sell pedometers (Aha! I knew it was a lie!), American scientists have since performed the research and determined that 10000 steps per day is a pretty good indicator of an active lifestyle. (Science to the rescue!)
Ten thousand steps is a great number because unless you have a very active job like nursing or working in a warehouse, you need about 30 minutes of brisk walking in addition to your normal life steps to reach 10000.
At least 30 minutes of moderate-intensity aerobic activity at least 5 days per week for a total of 150
OR
At least 25 minutes of vigorous aerobic activity at least 3 days per week for a total of 75 minutes; or a combination of moderate- and vigorous-intensity aerobic activity
AND
Moderate- to high-intensity muscle-strengthening activity at least 2 days per week for additional health benefits.
So what counts as moderate to intense walking? That would be ≥100 steps per minute. I timed myself on my treadmill and at a mere speed of 3.0, I can achieve about 125 steps per minute.
So to recap, walking is good enough and humans are lazy liars who are fantastic at deluding themselves about how active they are. Or at least I am. I don’t know if you were playing along at home, but I was only hitting 3000 steps before my fitness revelation. I WAS A SEDENTARY SLOTH! While sloths are adorable, carrying thirty extra pounds is not. I needed to change.
My Three Point Fitness Plan:
1. Accountability
If you are gaining weight, the truth is you are eating too much and the only way to get to the bottom of it is to keep a food diary. I logged into My Fitness Pal (MFP) app for the first time since 2009 to track my food. It has improved so much! You can easily find calorie counts for Weight Watcher and Skinnytaste recipes and you can scan the barcode of packaged foods.
I bought a Fitbit Zip. You can check out why Erin and I picked the Zip here. Fitbit and MFP work wonderfully together to track your energy in versus energy out. MFP will even calculate how many calories you burned from active exercise logged on your Fitbit and figure those into your calories allowed total. Also, you can link up with friends so you can compete compare how many steps everyone is taking.
I confess failures, and celebrate successes with the ladies in my fitness support group. You can have your own. It’s as easy as gathering some friends in a secret Facebook group.
2. Moving More
I have fully embraced the American Heart Association’s mantra about exercise: Something is better than nothing!
3. Eating Less
I have invested the time in cooking healthy meals and stocking my kitchen with healthy snacks. I cannot “diet” and deprive myself, but I know how to eat nutritious, delicious foods that boost my health and keep me satisfied.
What does this look in action?
1. Exercise
For the past 30 days, I have moved 10000 steps each and EVERY day. Probably about 3000 to 5000 of these steps are achieved on the treadmill at speeds between 3.0 and 5.0 with most of them happening at 4.0, but if I can get outside, I prefer that. I have also been known to do four extra laps around the grocery store to get my steps in. If I am feeling sluggish, I convince myself walking at 3.0 on the treadmill is better than sitting and usually by a minute into it, I feel like ramping up the speed. I subscribe to the science behind interval training. No matter how fast I am going, I usually ramp up the speed by 1.0-1.5 for about a minute at a time. If I am on the treadmill for 30 minutes, I usually interval up five or six times. I also set the incline for 1 or 2 to make sure my intensity is good enough. I would go higher, but it hurts my knee.
I also have been hula hooping with a weighted hoop every day. Talk about an effortless abdominal and glutes workout! Exercise can be fun. I am a convert! (Caveat: your ribs and hips might feel a little bruised at first, so start with about a minute of hooping. This feeling disappeared for me after about 2 days. I think consciously tightening your abs while hooping also helps.)
I have been doing low weight/high repetition arm work and Pilates style ab work (planks and push-ups are my frenemies) two or three times per week. I often do the weights while on the treadmill. I have also been doing these exercises to strengthen the muscles supporting my knees.
When I hit the inevitable plateau, I will switch up/intensify my strength training.
2. Nutrition
I have MFP set for 1.5 lb/per week weight loss. This allows me 1220 calories per day, which I admit is hard to maintain EXCEPT I really end up eating between 1300 and 1475 calories per day because of my Fitbit exercise credit. It is a bit of a mind game, but it works for me.
I just cannot eat “diet” food. It tastes like plastic and the portions are miniscule. I must eat food that is delicious and allows for satisfying portions. With that being said, I cannot live on salad alone either.
I have not skipped meals and I never allow myself to become ravenous. Basically, I have been eating around 350 calories each for breakfast and lunch making sure to include protein. To reach these goals, I have banished most bread, but I still eat carbs. I think carbs are delicious and get a bad rap from the haters. For dinners, I have been preparing tasty, family-pleasing options such as Skinny Mexican Casserole,Healthy French Country Crockpot Chicken, and Weight Watchers Baked Spaghetti Carbonara. I generally load up on roasted veggies and have 1/2 cup of healthy grains, too.
While every choice is part of the Big Picture, not every choice has to be perfect. Fitness and health has to be a lifestyle, not some “diet” to blast through.
3. Results
In thirty days, I have lost just over ten pounds (one third of the way to my goal) and several inches from my waist, booty, and arms. I have leveled down to the next size of jeans in my closet. I feel tremendously more comfortable in my own skin already. And of note, I have not felt denied. During this 30 days, I have celebrated my birthday with a wonderful weekend in Philadelphia where I ate the likes of bacon wrapped dates, empanadas, crispy Cuban pork, and salted caramel cheesecake (all in one day, yikes!). Just know on that day I walked for close to 16000 steps all over the city and I locked her down that Monday and Tuesday, eating about 1250 calories each day.
Bottom Line
♦Adequate levels of fitness take more than a casual stroll, but they also don’t require 90 minutes of marathon running and weight lifting. Don’t let the whispers of perfectionism immobilize you- “If you aren’t working hard, what’s the point of working at all?” Just move! An object in motion tends to stay in motion and it’s surprising what you can achieve if you just take that first step. I still miss the “high” from running, but my knee appreciates walking and the ten less pounds it has to haul around.
♦Accountability is key. My overachieving self can’t help but beat the 10000 step goal each and every day on my FItbit. Plus, since I can link up with my friends, THEY can see if I’m reaching my goals, too. Pride, in this case, works for me.
♦If you aren’t recording your food, you are most likely eating too much. As they say in Weight Watchers, if you bite it, you write it. I weigh or measure out every portion I eat.
Now go forth and move! The road to fitness can be walked!
The above are Amazon Affiliate links. That means that while you pay the same as you otherwise would, we get a teeny portion of the profit. Maybe enough for a tablespoon of chia seeds.
A version of this post was originally published 2/2015.
So you decided one fine December that it would be super swell to make photo books as holiday gifts for the grandparents, siblings, and aunts. And it was . . . but it was so much work. So. Much. Work.
But they loved them, and they fawned over you, and now it’s your thing. Your stressful, time-sucking thing. But you know in your heart it doesn’t have to be that hard. If you just knocked them out earlier in the year it wouldn’t be so bad. Right? RIGHT?! New Year’s resolution time: jump on Shutterfly in January and BOOM, Christmas shopping will be done before the calendar even flips a page.
But things come up, time gets away from you, and then suddenly . . .
It’s dawn on December 5th when you realize the 50% discount–THE BEST OFFER OF THE YEAR–ends at midnight.
Procrastination be damned and with Shutterfly as your witness, you will get the photo books done today!
But first Facebook.
NO! FOCUS! Must start culling through 30 bajillion photos. Because digital.
Declare Part B of your new New Year’s resolution is to delete bad photos as you go along.
(No, you won’t.)
Figure out that NOT ONE of the 50 pictures you shot on burst for the family portrait has everyone looking good (or at least looking at the camera) at the same time.
Spend an hour on PicMonkey frankensteining a photo that is album cover worthy.
Hell, while you’re at it, touch up your roots and whiten your teeth in that one fab picture of yourself in front of the tree.
Crap, you need to get the kids to school.
Okay, focus. Just pick some pictures so a book can actually happen.
Start upload of 331 photos.
Celebrate with your 4th cup of coffee before 10:00 AM because now you can begin the fun stuff of designing your book.
Come back with your 5th mug of coffee and realize not all of the photos are on the site because your internet connection glitched in the middle of your upload.
Go through the tiny thumbnails and figure out what’s missing.
Schedule an appointment with the eye doctor to see if you need glasses.
Start another upload.
Swear you’ll upload your pictures immediately after Christmas this year.
(No you won’t.)
While upload is completing (you won’t dare walk away this time because your broken spirit is too heavy to drag along), pick out the perfect theme.
Treat yourself to a 6th cup of coffee because you picked out the perfect theme in three minutes.
Oh nardbolts, it is one that costs extra.
Go back and settle on a different theme. Convince yourself that your basic family will like the basic theme.
Check on the upload.
Accidentally pause upload because your hands are shaking.
Make yourself a sandwich to soak up the caffeine.
Start the book.
Forty minutes later panic–because while they are PERFECTLY placed–you only have three pictures in your album and it’s now time to pick the kids up from school.
Grind on the homework/dinner/practice/bedtime hamster wheel.
Grab a latte to get you through.
Four hours later get back on Shutterfly.
Add a shot of Bailey’s to your coffee because you realize you only have 45% of one page created.
Pass out on the keyboard because you are EXHAUSTED.
Wake up at 4:00 AM. Succumb to gnashing of teeth and rending of garments BECAUSE YOU MISSED THE DEADLINE!
Start Google search to see how much you could get for a kidney to pay for full price photo books.
Check email and see–can it be true??–the 50% deal has been extended by ONE DAY.
Fall to your knees weeping the praises of Shutterfly and promising to use this second chance to end your procrastinating ways once and for all.
(No you won’t.)
Get the kids to school and crank up that Keurig because momma’s got a photo book to complete.
Bust through 30 pages like a woman possessed by ignoring your family and squashing all semblances of holiday cheer. Hit submit at 11:52 PM.
Revel in those eight minutes to spare.
Be stricken with complete amnesia when those glorious orange boxes show up on your doorstep.
It is so overwhelming and painful and devastating and heart-wrenching to grieve over a loved one. When my mother was killed in a car accident a little over two years ago I learned this lesson all over again. But it is also hard to watch someone go through this heartache, and you just want to DO something to lessen the pain.
The key to comforting is acknowledging grief lasts beyond the funeral. Company abounds at the time of the funeral, but it doesn’t take long for a mourner to suddenly be alone. Fast forward several months, and while your friend may be going through the normal motions of school, work, and church, grief is still a sodden blanket tangled around her legs making each step just that much more difficult.
But at say, seven months out, it can be daunting to find the right moment to ask your friend how she is doing. Do you snag her in car line? Call her during her son’s basketball practice? Grind book club discussion to a halt with a “How are you doing with your grieving process?” One thing to remember, though, is you’re not in danger of “reminding” her of her grief. It is always there.
So what do you do?
The key to action is good intentions that are simple enough for you to carry out. Suggestions such as “go clean their bathroom” are all well and good, but let’s be honest. This is awkward except with your best of friends or your family. Even during the worst depths of my grief, I didn’t expect the woman whom I chat with regularly in Pilates to show up at my door with Comet and a toilet brush. The group of friends I would feel comfortable doing intimate chores for is small, but the circle of people I care about who I would want to do something for is wide.
And let’s not forget we are a far-flung society. What if you friend is across the state or even across the globe? You want to comfort in some way especially since you can’t put your arms around her.
With a loving heart, a little time, and these five suggestions, you can show you care in very doable ways.
1. Food
This one is nothing new, but I charge you to put some extra thought into it.
Timing. Food tends to be overflowing in the first couple of days after a funeral. There are always those casseroles from efficient “first responders,” sandwiches left over from the service, and things that were already in the fridge. Takeout pizza hasn’t lost its charm yet. But in a month, when the autopilot wears off, feeding everyone is just as hard, if not harder. Remember, when you take food, you not only spare the family from cooking, but from shopping, putting away groceries and cleaning up, too.
Even if you brought food around the time of her loss, schedule to bring a meal around the four to six week mark. It is about this time that all of the turmoil of activity has leveled out, people have stopped calling, and people even start to avoid her because they feel uncomfortable. This is the perfect time to come bearing food and offering a listening ear.
Menu. There is someshared characteristic among “first responders” that compels them to bring pasta dishes. And who can blame them? They’re easy, freeze well, and most people like them. And those first five lasagnas are delicious, but pasta/red sauce/meat every night becomes a little tiresome. Break convention and bring something different; you’ll be promoted from hero to superhero. We have a menu all worked out for you.
Scheduling. This little act can be such a gift to someone who is grieving because even simple tasks can be overwhelming, like finding space in the freezer when four meals show up at once. Using tools on the free Meal Train website, you can invite friends via email and Facebook to schedule a day to bring a meal. What’s great is favorites, dislikes, and special dietary needs can be listed, and everyone can see what food is scheduled. With minimal effort on your part, you can make a huge difference in the burden on your friend.
2. A Year of Cards
One of the kindest things a friend did for me after my mother’s death was send me random cards every month for about a year. Sometimes they were sweet, sometimes they were funny, sometimes they were St. Patrick’s Day cards in November. It’s that acknowledgement thing again. She let me know she knew I was grieving.
Buy the cards all at once and address them immediately. I send them on random dates so it is more of a surprise and not something to be expected like “Ellen always sends me a card on the first of the month.” The cards have to stop sometime, so if they are not scheduled on specific dates, they will leave less of a void when they are no longer coming.
3. A Box of Comfort
I have a hard time sending flowers to a grieving person. Having gone through the deaths of both of my parents, each time the flowers overwhelmed me. I had no place to put them and the cloying smell reminded me of standing in the receiving line at the viewing . . . that is until they started to die and the stink of decay and moldy water took over. I had dead petals and pollen everywhere. Throwing away a bouquet took up an entire trash bag and triggered a vacuuming session.
I opt instead to send a box of comfort: chocolates, tea, and cozy socks or a scarf. And as you would guess, I don’t send it immediately. I wait at least a month or more to acknowledge grief doesn’t have an expiration date.
4. Remember the Anniversary
Immediately, if not sooner, add the anniversary of the death to the calendar on your phone and set an alert for a week before. Check in with a call or text in the days leading up to and on the actual date to empathize that this is a hard time. If you need help understanding why this is so important, I wrote about what the tsunami of anniversary grief was like for me. My friend, Kathy at Kissing the Frog, uses the term “crapiversary” to describe the day because it doesn’t deserve a word that even hits at celebration. She also makes a good point that it is such a comfort when people remember beyond the first year.
5. Pray
The old standby. It may not seem like the grandest action because it is so easy to do, but it will have the biggest effect.
In all, if you approach your friend with thoughtfulness and an open heart, you can’t go wrong. Never leave them alone because you’re afraid to bother them. Assume your friend is smart enough to let your call go to voicemail if it isn’t a good time. I always include in a text or message “don’t worry if you don’t have time to get back to me, I just wanted you to know I was thinking of you.” If you do make contact, never pass judgement on a grief journey or timeline. It is different for everyone.
Finally, never let fear of reminding her about her grief stop you from reaching out. It is always with her. Doing something wins out every time over doing nothing.
Even weeks later, the Paris attacks continue to resonate in my heart and head. I am still working through all the emotions of tragedy: disbelief, shock, sadness, fear, and now, anger. I really thought by now I would be less incensed. I expected my shield of numbness forged from the necessity to deal with the ever-present bombardment of evil to protect me better, but this is proving to be a slow burn. I think this smoldering anger will be my companion for a while.
My husband, two teenage daughters, and I just visited Paris in June, and “what if that had happened while we were there?” fortifies my empathy. The fact that this occurred in a place where I witnessed armed soldiers patrolling on foot and saw them driving the streets in open vehicles fuels my hopelessness. It was harrowing enough when less than sixteen hours before we boarded a plane for home, a man with terrorist motives beheaded his boss and attacked a factory in Lyon, and a bomb threat triggered the evacuation of a terminal in Charles de Gaulle Airport. It was by giving it over to God that we got on our plane.
But those events pale in comparison to the carnage of the November attacks. I am so angry for the people of France, but if I am honest, my outrage lingers on because of what this means for my daughters. This is the first terror attack they have watched unfold in real time in a place where they have been. We all are taken aback remembering our dinners in restaurants open to the bustling streets, and now picturing those places as targets of violence. This is the first time my daughters will remember an act of terrorism instead of recalling a history lesson about it. The gossamer bubble of their innocence has dissolved that much more and their own protective shields have begun to inch their way up.
My oldest is a senior in high school and currently applying to colleges. Her top choices are in Boston, Washington, DC, and New York City. A month ago I saw these choices as exciting, adventurous, and full of opportunity. Now I am just reminded anew of the Boston Marathon bombing, the plane crashing into the Pentagon, and the Twin Towers tumbling down. Just like that, the forgetfulness born from time has evaporated.
I mourn that Syrian refugees are hindered and dying in their flights from their nightmare conditions, and my head whirls that my daughter’s college dreams are tarnished with the harsh worry of terrorism. Basic survival and rarefied dreams are all victims at the feet of terrorism. My thoughts ping back and forth between the global and the personal. The unfairness and inequity staggers me.
But just like we boarded that plane to come home, I will support my daughter as she forges ahead with her plans. In reality, my protective shield is made of more than numbness, it is tempered with hope and faith: knowing that bad things can happen, but God will hold us close through them. I have to continue living my life and encouraging my daughter to do the same. I can’t help myself. And let’s face it, danger not only comes from afar, but it is homegrown, too. We only have to think about the shootings at the Oregon community college and Virginia Tech to know it’s true. If I needed assurances of absolute safety for my family and me to leave the house, we would be hermits.
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So it is with awareness that we will continue to pray for the people of Paris and Syria, seek out ways to help them, and count our blessings; and it is with faith and hope my daughter will complete her college applications. But because God helps those who help themselves, my daughter may be looking into a matriculation choice that is not located in a city on the terrorist hit list. Who knows what May will bring when it is time to sign her final letter of intent? We’ll expect the best, plan for the worst, and through it all we are going with God.
My family loves Disney World. Wait, maybe “love” will give you the wrong idea because there are folks who rotate a sizable chuck of their lives around this famous amusement park. Before you start checking my tush for Tinkerbell tattoos and my china cabinet for Mickey Mouse stemware, I should explain that it’s more like a strong attraction that keeps drawing us back every three years . . . until this vacation. This year we cut our intermediary time down to two years. Why? Because next fall our oldest daughter will be a freshman in college.
See, we didn’t plan on being habitual visitors so we didn’t do the math. When our oldest was almost six and our youngest was almost four–and most importantly, potty-trained–we thought “Disney, why not?” I really considered it to be a one and done kind of thing. I had not grown up visiting The Mouse. My first visit was as an adult with my future husband, Frank, when I was twenty-one years old. I thought this trip with our kids would be such an special and singular event that we brought my mother, too, so she could experience the magic.
And that 2004 vacation was special and magical:
Meeting Aurora was a dream come true.
I loved finally going to Disney World with my mom.
And we had such a great time that we did it again in 2007:
The Carpets of Aladin.
2007 plus three years gives you 2010:
We always end up at Pecos Bill Tall Tale Inn and Cafe.
2013 meant they were both teenagers, but they were still up for a good time:
Rafiki’s Planet Watch in Animal Kingdom. Read all about it here.
And that brings us to 2015, when even at seventeen and fourteen, they’re not too cool for fun:
Animal Kingdom has lots of good photo ops.
At this point, I must share a little secret: I barely kept baby books and there are no marks commemorating inches grown on any of my door frames. I don’t like to stroll down memory lane because it makes my heart ache with longing, so I just try to stay in the now and grab the joy in parenting as I see it. But in a way, through no conscious planning, Disney World has become our growth chart, a very expensive and inconveniently located growth chart. But at least we’re getting a little more bang for our buck because this is a childhood record sprinkled with fairy dust.
Disney is not so much a destination to be toured, but an immersion experience. When friends scoff that going to the same place so many times is a waste of money, I can only answer that the focus is not on the things you see, but seeing your family in a place where the only focus is fun. Every time we go it’s like I can see the happy ghosts of their childhood overlaying the current moments, and it doesn’t cause me longing because “the now” is wonderful, too. The kids also experience a sort of childhood muscle memory because they grew up going here. There is nothing like catching that first glimpse of Cinderella’s Castle to wake up the child in a teen on the brink of adulthood.
Disney might in fact be the closest thing to time travel we have: you can revisit the past while being fully attuned to the present. It was honoring the present that spurred us–almost in a panic–to book a trip before high school graduation. Our daughter plans on attending college, and while that is all good, once she takes that first step to leave, our family as we know it will be changed. She will always be our child, but her childhood will be past tense. It’s about her sister, too. We wanted our youngest to have one more dose of Disney before she learns what being left behind in the nest means; before shared experiences become fewer and far between.
So, we took one more trip while our family is still under one roof, while our oldest can only imagine where her future is going to take her. We’ve banked one last entry on her growth chart before the adventure changes.
It’s really weird when you think about it. Being in need doesn’t have to mean a disaster has befallen you. A helping hand is just as needed when your world is spilling over with joy, like when you have a new baby or move into a new house, as when your life is contracting, like during a death in your family or surgery.
Even though these events represent two sides of the coin of life, they all are times when grocery shopping and meal prep can be the straw that breaks the camel’s back. That’s when friends can swoop in to the rescue.
Nothing says “I love you” like a home cooked meal. Most people default to lasagna or baked ziti when taking a meal to someone, but why not ditch the red sauce and really wow them? A well planned meal shows you’re a lover and a thinker.
You can pick and choose between the following recipes or be a rockstar and make them all. I personally like to provide enough food for lunches and leftovers. I also always like to supplement with a salad kit and cut-up fruit. It’s a luxury to have that healthy freshness without any of the chopping.
And this isn’t all about giving, if you double the recipes you’ll have your own meal preparation done for days. Give a little, get a little.
Main Meal
If you want to really floor them with some some real comfort food they would never be expecting, these Easy Oven-Baked Cheeseburger Sliders are just the ticket. The emphasis here is on the “easy.”
Another option is this Zucchini and Ground Turkey Cheesy Casserole. It’s filling, but with a healthy freshness you don’t often find in casseroles. This is also a great one if you think they might have to stick it in the freezer.
Main Meal for Picky Eaters/Side Dish/Lunch
Forget politics, here’s the real eternal debate: is mac and cheese a main dish or a side dish? The world may never know, but many picky eaters sure do love it. If a household has kids, I like to include some helpings of Mom’s Best Macaroni and Cheese.
Side Dish
Think pasta salad is only for summer? Try Balsamic-Mustard Vinaigrette Pasta Salad and think again! The mustard and olives in the dressing provide a tang and depth of flavor that makes it perfect for any season. It also makes a perfect lunch. Your friend will enjoy snacking on this rather than a bag of chips or cookies.
The Sweet Stuff
Be it good times or bad times, there’s always room for brownies and these Oreo and Peanut Butter Brownie Bites more than fit the bill. Don’t fret about having time for these though; they’re easy to make too. Being a champion isn’t always hard work.
I can’t name the number of times my friends have taken care of me, so I jump at every chance to pay it forward. If this helps you spread the love, then my work on the internet is done for today.
, joining a fitness support group, and logging back into 
with a weighted hoop every day. Talk about an effortless abdominal and glutes workout! Exercise can be fun. I am a convert! (Caveat: your ribs and hips might feel a little bruised at first, so start with about a minute of hooping. This feeling disappeared for me after about 2 days. I think consciously tightening your abs while hooping also helps.)
