how did I survive slice of life?

I made it. And how did I make it? I wrote this last post and a few others a few days early to get drafts typed. I will have had a surgery on my hand, and it shouldn't be too bad, but I worried I wouldn't be able to write. So I am writing a tad early and setting it to post after a few pecked out edits.

I want to say how thankful I am to have made it to the end even if I had to figure out a way to get it done extra creatively. I love to write, and I love the Slice of Life Story Challenge even if I worry and complain about it for a couple months leading up to it. I've written some of my most tender pieces during the challenge over these several years, and I believe it is not on accident. I believe the pressure of daily writing, the exercise of daily writing, and the discipline of daily writing all work together to get my heart and mind working together to write well.

Thank you to everyone who has been reading along as I write. I am thankful for every single comment. I need feedback some days. I probably would have given up a long time ago if I hadn't been able to round up some readership early on. It means the world to me that I have you all. The support is invaluable.

I'll still be around, writing on Tuesdays. And other days too. I like to write; I was just forgetting myself for a bit.

new horizon

I haven't been able to revel in my horizon since it changed almost a year ago. It's been hard for me to let go of the view I had before me before I moved. It had made a place in my heart, and I loved that it had. However, the past few weeks have been warming me up to the idea of loving where I am, loving where I live, and loving where I might go from here because of where I am right now.

My perspective just needs to shift. It's not because I haven't made friends or I don't appreciate the beautiful mountain I live by. I think I need to let it continue to seep into my soul like the snow melting from the top and making its way into the smallest streams below. It takes a little time, you know. It has to. And it ends up being so good when it finally reaches the right destination.

I want to keep letting the snow melt into my heart, so I'll keep working on making space for it.

tulips are life

It is astonishing how something so beautiful can fade so quickly. Tulips are gorgeous as they go from green leafy shoots to layers of leaves, then the grand finale that lasts only a couple of weeks. It is hard to like tulips because of this fact. I want flowers to grow and last a month or longer! Not grow, grow, grow, bloom for a bit, and then die. I am totally complaining right now, but as I realize I need to finish writing, so I can get some rest, I see how our lives are like tulips. Or at least my life, I think. I have been growing and growing so much. I wonder how long this stage lasts before the quite short bloom happens. It will be exciting one way or another. Of that, I am certain.

Tulips are life.

springtime

Isn't there just something truly splendid about springtime? The beginning of warmth and budding plants and trees cause people to perk up and look around.

I know I have been watching the trees and shrubs for new growth. I've been watching the weather for warmer and warmer days. Don't get me wrong, I do not want blazing heat, but I am ready to not be so cold anymore. I think I lived in my coat for half the winter this year. My hands were the coldest part on me at almost any point.

I hope things continue to improve, or I might want to head south for next winter!

tracks

Riding on trains equals adventure to me, so when I see train tracks, I begin thinking of what excitement is coming my way. I don't care how far (or not far) I am going; riding the train is going to be good.

I have begun to use day trips on trains as a way to get work done. I do take a break and get off to walk and get a bite and soak in scenery to boost my creativity, but the swaying and constancy of the train seem to help me focus.

I also use the train to take me on little trips and open up the door to adventure. It is always a good day when I begin it with a train ride.

One of these days, I want to take a coastal train trip or even cross-country. Man alive, that would be fun.

I would walk 5(00) miles

We lived in Las Vegas, so there wasn't any snow or much weather except heat, but when I was driving to school the other day, I thought of how my best friend and I would walk to and from each other's houses, which were pretty far apart, quite often. But we didn't care.

Why didn't our parents give us rides more often? Well, because it was the 80s and 90s, and parents (or at least my parents) were pretty laissez-faire in their upbringing approach. I didn't die, so it was all good. Also, my dad shouldn't/couldn't drive by the time I was in high school, so he was off the carpool list, and my mom was working like three jobs to keep us afloat since my dad became disabled.

I remember one time I was cutting through an open desert area instead of taking the sidewalks to save time, and I got feeling kind of paranoid about someone trying to steal me or a snake getting me, so I started speed-walking like a super freak to where my shoes got so dirty. That crusty desert dirt sticks to everything. I was so irritated at my weirdo self when I realized how encrusted my shoes had become. What a dork! is what I recall muttering under my breath or very loudly into the open air (not sure which) to myself as I hit civilization.

One of my favorite memories is when I went to my friend's house before a church dance. She had gotten in trouble for something or something like that, and she wasn't allowed to go unless she got the entire house clean. I was like, dude, challenge accepted. So I remember helping vacuum the untouchable sitting room and helping with one of the bathrooms at the top of the stairs. Not sure what else I helped with, but I was not going to let my friend miss out on our all-important church dance that Saturday. We cleaned and cleaned, and then we went to that dance. It felt so good to beat that system.

Another cherished memory of mine is how we used to walk to my house sometimes after school and eat my parents out of house and home. I swear they had to shop case lot sales for my friends and me alone. We were furiously hungry some days. And what's really surprising is that we were small. I'm pretty sure all that walking, miles and miles some weeks, kept us fit.

Now that my best friend and I live in different states, we still work to make time for each other—but we do not walk. We are way smarter than that now and have cars. Thank goodness.

who I am

Someone gave me some advice the other day, and I haven't been able to forget it. They prompted me to be sure to remember who I am and not let my dream define me. I keep wondering what does that really mean. What defines a person? Who am I if I am not my dreams?

I am an eternal being of divine and infinite worth. I am deadly serious and hilarious. I am a perfectionist and imperfect. I am obsessed with purple and love all colors. I love hard and with tenderness. I am vivacious and irritating. I am a realist and a hopeful dreamer. Because I believe all of these to be true, I also believe that my dreams lead me to fulfill my divine role in existence.

No, I am not worth less if I don't get every single wish checked off my list. No, I am not worth less if a man on this earth never steps up. However, my good and worthy goals and hopes and dreams and even wishes, all, make up my path, and my path is part of me. I believe my path is a map of who I am and who I am becoming. You can learn a great deal about a person, who they are, by the things they dream about—the things they want in their life—what they want their life to look like.

What else can we use to know who we are? I wonder.

helpers

When I look around me, I am in awe of how much care has gone into making sure I feel supported in my life. I have felt alone just like anyone else, but there seems to be something or someone there to help me get through or show me the way every time I turn around. The consistency of it all feels like a miracle sometimes.

I wonder if there are things like this in everyone's lives. Do you ever feel like someone did something in the past that helped your future self? Do you ever feel like your past self did something specifically that helped your future self through a problem or issue? Stuff like this has me wondering how much we make a difference in each other's lives. I think about how our mark on the world changes and helps others into the generations.

I've been working to connect with my family history, and it has opened up my heart to people I have never even heard of until I began connecting the generations on my family tree. I see how much sacrifice was made for me to have the life I have today. It is inspiring and exciting to think about.

Do you have anyone in your family tree who you feel did something for you to help you?

Food for lots of thought.

my big dream

Where do we put our dreams when life gets at us? I know I put mine on the back burner before I'll bury any of them. I do wonder if I've buried any of my dreams. As I try to think of something I've given up on, I don't know if I've really given up on anything except for only being married once, but that wasn't entirely of my choosing. So I edited that dream to only marrying once more. If I can't get it right (well, pick someone who will stick around and try to get it right with me), I don't think I want to keep on trying more than one more time. But you know what dream hasn't changed even through every breakup I've ever gone through including the biggest one? I have never given up on being truly and fully beloved by a man. I know the quality of my love is worthy of it, so I just need someone to step up to the plate and make my wildest dreams come true. And in return, we all know I'll be sure to one up him and make all his wildest dreams come true plus more. I'm just that much of an overachiever.

not sure what to write

I am trying to think of something to write, and I am at a loss. Seriously, a loss. I went through my photographs to prompt some memories that I could focus on to slice about, and I feel no inspiration at all. But then I saw this one, and I thought I might take a moment to express the love I have for my family. I have so much going on right now, and I have so many people I miss right now. Yet if I take a minute to ponder the beauty of holier things, I am comforted. Isn't life absolutely breathtaking? All the problems and trouble and joys and beauty. All of it takes our collective breath away in one way or another. As I look on this photo, I am reminded of my roots and all the people who love me. My roots in Las Vegas and trips to St. George and fried chicken. Yes, I said fried chicken. We used to get KFC on the way back home when we'd take a trip through St. George. It was so good. Such good times with my family. Family is everything.

While I started off not knowing what to write, I've written a whole lot of disjointed thoughts, but I wrote, so I am happy. I went down so many happy memory lanes all in one short slice.

so thankful

That's me. Sideways.

Follow up from yesterday's slice…

All looks well. The doctor said it looks to be an infection, and it should all go away within three weeks. If it doesn't, we will do a biopsy then.

But seriously did you hear that part about it most likely not being cancer?

I had made myself so sick with worry.  Don't get me wrong. I kept myself very busy with work, and I said my prayers, and everything. But my brain is working overtime when there's any problem, so my subconscious was cranking out the heartburn like a champ. I was sure I would throw up if I got bad news.

The moment we left the doctor's office, I felt a weight lifting from me, and then we stopped by Costco of all random places to catch up with my friend before he had to go to work, and I got a few good hugs in, etc. and felt even more relief after that.

At this point, I am feeling the strain of the day, and I could sleep for like a week if it were possible. But this is just so wonderful to have such good news, and I am so thankful, so very thankful.

I appreciate everyone who had their breath held and prayers said in our behalf. I am so thankful for you too. Your kind words helped me get through this day more than you know.

lumpy bumpy

The morning was easy going and peaceful. I had gone to sleep content; having all of my children under one roof always helps me sleep easier. So I was having a really great morning. My oldest son was up and showering, so I didn't need to worry about waking him to get to the train in time for him to head back to his place. I was up and rested and getting myself ready for work, and my oldest daughter's home health aide arrived on time to help get her ready for the day. Everything was moving like clockwork.

But then, in the midst of my peaceful morning, her aide called me to come in, and she said she found an armpit lump on my daughter.

I felt it, and then did a parallel check on both to see if it was her body. And it was not just her body. It is a lump. A hard pea-sized or bigger lump.

As soon as the doctor's office opened, I called. The nurse had to call me back. And we have an appointment for the next day. That is all good and proactive. But I have a sick feeling in my stomach from fretting. I'm trying to find a way to stop fretting. It's not like it does any good. I'm just making myself sick.

So maybe you're wondering why I have a picture of pie on display. It's because when I decided to write about this and distract myself, the first thing I thought about was how happy my daughter was to make pie on Pi Day.

Coconut cream pudding pie is simple. I got all the ingredients after school that day, so she could make a pie with her helper who was coming over for the evening. I know how much she likes to "cook" stuff, so it was going to be a great time.

As predicted, she and her helper had so much fun making her pudding pie. She was so proud of herself that she was being a showoff about it. It always makes me smile to see her trying to make sure everyone sees her good work.

And now, I'm thinking about how she has little lumps and bumps on her head and other places, and maybe, it won't be a big deal. But the fact is it could be a big deal, but I will work hard to breathe and not worry.

shelves

What do you keep on shelves?

My first thought is for all of my books and movies. Then I think about my collectible mugs and other knick knacks. I also think about the clocks and pens and stickers lying in piles on the window sill and other shelf-like places around my home.

Dishes and other housewares are piled on shelves in my kitchen cupboards. These are a different type of shelf though. They get paid attention to on the daily.

Then I think about my heart. I put it on a shelf a few years ago because I was too afraid to get hurt again. I set it in a corner to collect dust, thinking it was for the best. I couldn't trust myself to choose someone who would choose me back. Or so I thought. I was really just having a really long pity party.

I've taken my heart off that shelf and been dusting it off for awhile now, and it feels good. It feels like it is long overdue actually. Hearts need to be used on the daily. They need to love and be loved. Just like the dishes. For daily use.

serenity soon

I'm unfamiliar with this term, serenity. I've heard it is quite the treasure, and so as I find myself inching toward the border of this uncharted territory, I catch myself holding my breath from time to time, waiting for it to not be so good. Yet somehow the landscape just keeps on getting better and better.

Don't get me wrong, I see the mountains in the distance. For sure. Life wouldn't be life without mountains and valleys and earthquakes, but life is also about smooth waters and blue skies and sunshine. Right? I just haven't seen much of the latter in such full measures for a very long time.

I truly can't remember when the last time I felt like I was at least nearing serene shores. I've had excitement and fun and kindness and friendship and affection, but I have not had so much directed solely in my direction from one person with such tender loving care in an indeterminate amount of time. It has been that long.

It is astonishing as I try to write about it. I do not think I misperceive either, and I honestly feel so many butterflies of pure joy that I do not know what to do with it all. Grown ups are typically settled a little better by now, and here I am with so much newness on the horizon. It is amazing.

Acceptance and affectionate friendship are part of what is leading me toward this well of serenity. I have become so vulnerable—I've made myself this way because I am too bold for my own good—that I create mountains for myself, yet I am surprised with acceptance and forgiveness that I don't even have to ask for really. It is just there, waiting for me as I open up and tear down my walls.

How could tearing down walls lead to serenity? It is almost counterintuitive, right? But I tell you, I am feeling what I believe could possibly be serenity or close to it. My heart is at ease in all its excitement. It is wishing and wondering yet confident. I don't even know what to do with it all.

And then I wonder—does anything I am writing make any sense whatsoever? And I laugh. I hope you do too. I am so happy right now, so at peace, carefully walking along the edge of serenity so as to not disturb any falling rock.

ahead

A blank slate of a day ahead of us—a lovely unplanned day
Quietly taking shape as the hours turn to afternoon
With the sun cutting the winter air in half and half again
As it warms the sidewalks and then the street beneath our feet
Walking and talking and sitting and laughing
Driving and listening and wishing
For a clean slate road like the one we found today
A little rough in patches but not so bad when you look ahead

Blue skies and lovely water lapping the marshy edges
Perfect in its imperfection
Showing me how relaxing is done
Giving me a change of pace as I take a second glance
Looking down the lane
I see a joyful road ahead of me—with you

friends forever

Have you ever received a gift that got you thinking about the real gifts in your life? When I got a custom-made mug in the mail, I sat there crying as I held it in my hands because the realization of what I have, a 30-year friendship, is the gift. The mug just stands as a manifestation of the bond of love we share.

Looking back on all the times my BFF Forever (my term of endearment that began with irony but has stuck) has been there for me, my breath is taken away. She has been with me in one way or another through every heartbreak I've ever experienced. It causes me to wonder if she signed up to be one of my guides before we came to this earth. I don't believe in coincidences, so it must be the case. She's just always there.

That thought then causes me to wonder how I'll survive without her. I can't even imagine not having her to run things by and to laugh with and lean on. I can't think about that anymore!

I have so much on my mind now, and it all started with a custom-made mug tugging at my heartstrings.

everyday creativity

Creativity is part of my everyday life. I don't really notice how infused it is until I come across someone who doesn't know me well and makes comments. Most of the time, people say stuff like how amazing something I put together/arranged is, but sometimes, I get looks like I'm trying too hard. Getting snapped out of my reality to notice how I might seem weird or even strange to others is always interesting. I look around me and wonder what else might appear unique, and I feel out of place for a bit, but then get right back into the swing of creativity. There really is no other way for me to be.

go big or go home

Falling in love, no matter how slowly it may occur, is wonderful, exciting, delightful—and scary. When I was a young girl, I never would have believed my future self that love could be fear inducing; alas, here we are. And the fear is very real. It is as real as the wonder, excitement, and delight that are overwhelming my life at the moment.

What could I be afraid of is one of the big questions hanging heavily in my heart. There are so many things: heartbreak being the umbrella under which every single tiny, paranoid or well grounded, fear falls. Heartbreak is not new to me. I've known it since I was a very young girl, a child. Loss, abuse, disappointment. Then, I grew into a teenager and loved a few boys too much. As a young woman, I chose someone to make a life with, and, well, we shall just say it ended badly, very badly. This brings us up to this point, even a true point of no return to be completely honest. Maybe I should have been more afraid, but I wasn't, so here I am balancing fear of falling too much further and fear of not having what my heart is beckoning me toward.

Balance like this cannot be sustained for long though. Choices, little choices, big choices, even choices that aren't my own will lead me in one direction eventually. Quite possibly that last bit is what has me the most afraid. But I will add that I strive to not allow fear to rule my world. I have been searching my soul, and I know I will be not be content with offering half a heart. I would always wonder if fear kept me from blessings and joy.

Reader, I must admit to you that I am leaning in one direction. The best direction, if you ask me. I am bold and decisive (except about food at restaurants), and I simply cannot resist listening to my heart that keeps cheering me on with little, persistent whispers of go big or go home.

progress

Redefining what tastes good to me is one of my challenges in life.

I grew up eating whatever I want. My parents rarely, if ever, limited our sugar intake, and I have been known to refer endearingly to candy as Vitamin C. That all said, growing up (and older) is necessitating that I change if I don't want to die of heart disease and diabetes and other overindulgence-in-sugar related diseases.

What I'm striving toward is balance. I enjoy treats, so instead of going cold turkey, I keep my mind open to try to new things and get a new take on old things I already know I like—such as doughnuts.

Don't get me wrong. I still will eat a real doughnut, but I got this mini doughnut pan to see if we could get creative at home and do some replacing with healthier options. For example, I made banana bread doughnuts the other day. My banana bread recipe is reduced sugar, and it has whole wheat too.

That's just one of my adjustments. And maybe it doesn't seem like much to you. But I am proud of myself for working to change my palette. I think it's helped me to better appreciate when I do have a legit treat. And that's a serious win.

her heart

Baking—hot bread with soft butter,
Pumpkin cookies all the year round;
That's what her heart is made of.

Kindness and gift giving,
A pat on the leg while driving, the seeker of every fun thing;
That's what her heart is made of.

Music—in its many forms,
Singing, playing piano and organ, listening and singing along;
That's what her heart is made of.

Understanding and mental health days,
A trip to the movies or to get something sweet;
That's what her heart is made of.

Laughter—loud and fantastical,
Enjoying highbrow humor and sharing her incredible wit;
That's what her heart is made of.

Loving and holding her breath,
A staunch supporter of family, who flies from the sidelines;
That's what her heart is made of.

Believing—a spiritual titan,
Stalwart and true, beautiful and renewed;
That's what her heart is made of.





For my dear mother.
Sixteen years of missing you.
Til we meet again.

battle axe dreams

Not sure about you, but sometimes, you just need a balloon battle axe to make your day go right.

Yes, it is ineffective at chopping anything up—like, literally, it will chop nothing at all except air. But what it is highly effective at destroying is a bad mood. Maybe that is the key to my son reaching his dreams of being a carnival worker.

Each of my children have gifts and talents that make our family life wonderful. My oldest daughter knows no guile and is so adorably sweet. My oldest son has a real knack for getting people to laugh and smile and make enjoyable, good discussion even on heavy topics. His taste in 70s Rock is trying my patience though. My youngest daughter is able to see when anyone is sad or tired and help out. She's also a really good note writer. These notes I speak of are legendary ever since she could write at all. I've tried to save them all, so she can see what a gift she is. And my youngest, he has lots of talents too, but the one I want to share is his love of balloon art.

This kid told me the other day that when he grows up, he wants to be wealthy. His plan is to "own properties and be a plumber or something useful like that and hire someone to be the CEO of [his] company, so [he] can be a carnival clown and do balloon animals." That's some big goals right there. Not sure how they will all jive together, but to have such uniquely specific goals is something none of my other children have ever voiced to me. And I can't help but hope he achieves them.

I often scroll through my photos and look at that battle axe he made and can't help but hope.

music love

Music can say things we don't have the words for. It sets or changes the mood. Music can heal and lift and bless others when we share it. One regret I have is that I am not more of a musician.

My mother was a musician to the core. She sang, played piano and organ, and had impeccable taste in  many styles of music. She set the standard to which I could never rise.

I guess I could have, but with the opportunities I had (and didn't have) growing up, coupled with my life challenges, it just didn't work out. I am sure if we had money for private lessons and my mom didn't have to go to work when I was young, I could have reached a lot more musical dreams.

Instead, I throw myself into finding great music to listen to and share with others. Since the 80s, I've been making mixed tapes, burning CDs, and creating playlists for myself and others. It's down to an art form if you ask me. You could also ask any of my friends or old boyfriends who received such delights, and they would attest to the amazingness of this bizarre musical talent.

I might not be a great singer or pianist, but I do have a deep love of music, and that is all that matters.

life skills

This school year, I am teaching Life Skills for junior high students along with my Digital Journalism course for high school students. I didn't realize the wide range of classroom management I would need to tap into with this teaching load, but I wouldn't trade it for the world.

Junior high students are my favorite. That age is so awkward and fun and surprising and difficult. You never know who will love or hate you and to what degree those feelings will affect you as a teacher, and I seem to thrive on the challenge to reach the students who hate me the most.

The 80/20 rule is pretty accurate in my classes: 80 percent tolerate/listen to me, 10 percent love me, and 10 percent detest me. And it's been interesting to see how that 10 percent slowly get won over (or at least pretend to be won over). For instance, most of the haters gave me Christmas gifts, which was a real shocker! Maybe they are just putting up a front, or maybe their parents know what I'm up against and wanted to show some appreciation. Either way, the gesture warmed my teacher heart.

Another aspect of Life Skills that I enjoy is having the ability to reward the students for working hard and getting their work done early. These kids love doing arts and crafts, so on days when the majority are all finished with their required work, they make classroom decorations. During December and January, they created a blizzard of amazing snowflakes. Then in February, hearts (and heart sharks) covered one side of the classroom. This reward system is highly motivating and easy to implement because I have such a great group of students.

We are closing in on the last quarter of the year, and I already know, no matter what happens fourth quarter (because we all know things can go straight up awry fourth quarter), I will miss this school year so much.

writing a poem

I was going to write a poem—I had all the words—
As soon as I could put it all on paper
Yet the poem never found a home in which to stay
For those short moments as I lost my way

Impressions marked my heart
But I have let those details fade
Accidentally and purposefully
As the world continues to spin too quickly 'round

What I remember is how I am my better self
When I can love someone with more of my heart
There is something transformative, enlivening and exciting me
When I am hopeful of being beloved

Words come more easily and I feel
More confident
More lovely
More of who I am at my core

I was going to write a poem
About how falling in love is scary and beautiful
It is partially written, but I think I'll keep on falling
And get back to writing once the walls are finally down

feeling lucky

Do you ever look around you and see how lucky you are? Do you ever sit back in awe of how you got where you are?

I do.

There's not really much luck involved in the good things happening for me or anyone really, but I like how "feeling lucky" feels as I write or say it. It makes things not seem so difficult, like the road to get to where you can see the blessings wasn't all that bad.

It's like when you have a baby. You suffer. Dude, I suffered. Preterm labor, weight gain transforming everything, pain, hunger, sacrifice. And then when that baby is born healthy and strong, you feel lucky. So lucky.

It's like when you find love again after a terrible break up or divorce. You suffer. Man alive, did I suffer. Solitude, poverty, worry for the future, sacrifice. So much sacrifice. And then when that kaleidoscope of butterflies works its way into your chest, you feel lucky. So very lucky.

Luck is more like blessings when you've worked hard to keep trying and not give up. Luck looks like the sacrifice of making room for what you need. Luck is in between the lines of all the silenced fears I hope to turn away from. No matter how things turn out, in the end, I know it will be alright.

I am feeling lucky.

six things

Six Lists for on this Sixth Day of Slice of Life

6 Favorite Movies (off the top of my head)

1. Music Man (with Shirley Jones)
2. Dan in Real Life
3. Leap Year 
4. Castaway
5. It's a Wonderful Life
6. The Young Victoria

6 Destinations I Want to See Someday

1. United Kingdom (all of it)
2. New York City
3. Amsterdam 
4. Washington, DC
5. Nauvoo
6. Prince Edward Island

6 Things I Want to Try at Least Once

1. Oil painting on large canvas
2. Cross country train trip
3. Book binding
4. Do a public speaking event
5. Provide a scholarship to a destitute single parent 
6. Rent a beach house in the Pacific Northwest for a month 

6 Top Favorite Desserts

1. Ice cream
2. German chocolate cake
3. Fudge
4. Red velvet cookies
5. Pudding parfaits
6. Almost any cream pie

6 Things that Make My Day

1. Hugs on a bad day
2. Movie marathons
3. Going to the temple 
4. Apology notes from my daughter 
5. Little surprises
6. Fresh flowers

6 Commonly Used Words

1. Pathetic
2. Totally
3. Dude
4. Darling
5. Garbage
6. Perfection 

spending time

Nothing really out of the ordinary happening except my son has been moved away from our old epicenter for two months, and he is home to get some support and spend some time.

This time we spend will most likely be nothing too spectacular, but that we are together makes it inherently wonderful. I am so happy to have him with us for a couple of days. I know he will have enough to eat and will be safe for at least two days. Also, he always makes us all smile with his light hearted humor and kind thoughtfulness. That's always a bonus.

We got a little lunch together the first day, and as you can see, lunch was spectacular, so maybe I wasn't accurate earlier.

Something I wonder is if anyone has some wisdom on how to not worry about your young adult children who are too adult to want to be home but too still your child you want to keep safe from the world. I'd love to hear any advice!