Hutch Cupboard Memories

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There came a time I felt we would benefit from having a hutch cupboard.  At the same time I wasn’t about to do to my family (kids especially) what was done to me.

Spending hours smelling Tarn-X while cleaning silver my parents got as a wedding gift decades before I was born.

The memory of the noxious fumes will follow me to my grave.

Hutch Reboot

As I glance at the much smaller version we found I considered the irony of further downsizing and how it would detract from the point of what the hutch represents.

Generational continuity.

As it happens I spent part of the day spring organizing.  I can’t call it spring cleaning because a big part of it is simply moving items from one area to another because…

Items will be easier to access when needed.

A lot of thought went into this.

We lose power a lot so putting candles in a particular location makes total sense.

Twiddling Thumbs

As often happens after you do a whirlwind change

Done in one fell swoop.

I found myself staring at the mini-hutch

Hey, if you don’t get one as large as your parents had you won’t be able to put as much “stuff” in it.

Um…

I was mentally arranging how I could further “organize” when it occurred to me if I continued along that path I would soon have a hutch empty of all but a few items.  Most of it would be empty.

Defeats the purpose.

My ancestors brought their life belongings across the ocean in a chest of cedar (so moths wouldn’t eat hand-made items).  Every piece down to the tiniest spoon had a place in our heart.

I knew every story as told from mother to daughter for generations…

If I followed through with the “clean and organized” message being pushed in today’s media I would lose every connection to my ancestors.

My Virgo ways have a limit because love matters more than some media writer’s version of what spring cleaning is about.

The Lesson?

Don’t throw the baby out with the bath water.

Something my grandmothers said enough I listened and took to heart.

Be well.

You Matter

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I’ve written and spoken in podcasts about how a buddy of mine in the Bay Area fished me out of the murky waters of post-pandemic burnout.  

The Beginning

It was so bad I wound up in the ER.

Fortunately, no health issues.

A passionate walker for decades I dragged myself out of miserable mornings and put one foot in front of the other day after day, week after week, month after month.  Didn’t matter the weather – pouring rain, snow, record-breaking heat, I kept it up.

Initially I spent the time mentally combing through my life and wondering how the hell I got there.  After all I’d been through so much worse.  

On Impulse

Over past decades I’d kept in touch with a buddy I worked with in tech, emailing then eventually texting. One morning I asked – given he was getting ready to brave Silicon Valley traffic – if it was okay I “brought him” on my walks by texting him.  

Sending him pics of sunrises, fogged skies/misty mornings, beautiful foliage, holiday decorations.

At the time I was going so early it was dark and while I saw a few souls walking or jogging I was pretty much alone.

Well, me and my phone light.

Mutual Benefit

He was more than happy to exchange the occasional text – some before getting in the car – some after he got to work.  

In the course of dialogue it came to light he was going through his own struggle.  He’d been taking care of his mom for eons and it got to a point he needed help.  I’m sure readers can fill in the blanks of the stress involved with finding a place where his mom would get the best care and having to deal with the house and other details.

Day after day, week after week, month after month I listened via text as he shared the challenges of finding an apartment close to where his mom would be, of the stress and chaos of getting the home that had been in his family since the 70s ready to sell – by himself.

No siblings.

He listened as I sorted through a roller coaster of emotions and faced incredible anxiety.

Family

I want to note I absolutely had the support of my family but they had their stress too.  Having my buddy meant they could address their own post-Covid chaos.

A Cure to the Loneliness Crisis?

This morning a good friend sent a video – Diary of a CEO: A Cure to the Loneliness Crisis? in which a gentleman talks about the impact of texting someone to let them know someone is there.

Someone.

This man’s commentary perfectly summarizes the healing texting did for my buddy and me.

Beyond Text

In an age in which many people are trying to do digital detox I can add that over those days/weeks/months I came across a number of individuals out pounding the pavement.

Face to Face Human Interaction.

Some walking dogs, some jogging, some riding bikes, – many just walking.

Often with flashlights.

Over time we began to smile – seeing each other every morning it seemed the polite thing to do.  I began introducing myself. 

You Matter.

Me:

“I look forward to seeing you every morning.”

“It makes my life better to see you in the morning.”

“You always look so pulled together as you’re walking to work.”

I met people who play in the orchestra, who are passionate Rolling Stones fans, who lived overseas…

People of all age groups – yep kiddos waiting for the bus – ALWAYS wish them a good day 

Taking time to connect pays in a myriad of ways big and small and goes in both directions.

Don’t hesitate to tell people they matter.

Be well.

The Healing Power of Experience

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It’s been an interesting day, starting early with a routine that included checking headlines to see if the Martians had landed.

Tongue-in-cheek – goes back to my high school “I have to read Ray Bradbury” days.

A London Times article – Social media is dead — none of my friends are posting any more caught my attention.

With a line putting me in the mind of an app that helps people spend less time on devices.

But Wait There’s More!

Ginsu knife anyone?

This isn’t a promo ad.

Double-Edge Sword

Long before the cell phone came along technology was changing society.  It takes time to see patterns and it takes hindsight to see the extent of the change.  And then comes judgment.

The technology that saves lives can disrupt lives.  It’s something we have to navigate.

So Navigate

I published my first book in 2011.  

I always thought my first book would be a novel; didn’t pan out.

A holistic healer, I intended my work help others.  

People who, like me, were suffering from EMF Sensitivity.

Life Happens

My dance with EMF Sensitivity sent me in a different direction though I didn’t give up on my dream.

I spent ensuing years alternating fiction and nonfiction projects.

That’s Nasty

Soon after I published I encountered my first Internet troll.  

It devastated me. 

 It took 7 years to recover from one person’s comment.

8 billion humans on this planet and I get a comment that destroys my soul and lands me in the sewer for 7 years..

One human being on planet earth shredded me for 7 years.

What helped me get past deep wounds left by someone I’d never met was listening to the sage advice of people who had more experience than me.

People who’d been there, who understood.

My angels of the heart happened to be teenage kids. Though expressed differently – as per their vernacular – each said “Oh, goes with the territory of putting yourself out there.”

Which they’d been doing for years in an environment that is – in some respects – harsher than what I was dealing with in my isolated corner of the web.

Pay It Forward.

Recent events have – at times – shaken those same angels.  I’ve been able to help by drawing from life experience.

  • Vietnam

I was a child but my parents’ friends …

I recount specifics in my podcasts

  • We Will Bury You

I was a child but conversations with my maternal grandmother helped me put bomb shelters in the back yard in perspective

  • Recession After Recession 

By the time I was 40 I’d gone through 4

Detroit experiences one about every 10 years.  

I gave words of comfort without being condescending.  

I didn’t pretend to understand.

Some experiences are universal and history may repeat itself but teens today are growing up in a world I never knew. Cell phones? iPads? The microwave was new technology when I was growing up.

So was Atari and Apple IIe.

I had a rotary dial wall phone in my house!

I believe I was able to convey that as a society we’ve been in tough spots before – that I feel people want to work together for the common good.  

The issue is there are different definitions of the common good.

General and Specific

Later today.

I was about to get back to my first fiction project since post-Covid burnout when I got another opportunity to pay it forward.

With a stranger.

Fulfilling a Dream

Right up my manifesting alley.

A young woman creating a film was seeking help with filming locations.  Rather than suggesting locations to scout I gave words of encouragement and praised the beautiful amazing experience of seeing a vision – what started as a thought or a whisper in the soul – come to life.  

It was – from what I could tell – appreciated.

Be well

Human Touch: There Is No Substitute

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I recently wrote about the value of good manners.

Smiling?  Treating People with respect?  Wishing them a good day?  Lifting them up when they need a helping hand?  THESE are the pillars upon which decent society was built and in spite of what you may read on the web it’s the fabric that still exists.

The irony in that paragraph?  By taking your cue from technology – what you read on the web – as opposed to a fellow human you end up with a skewed image of the world.  Allowing someone you’ve never met tell you how to think and feel about what may or may not be reality can and does cause harm in the form of mental and emotional stress.  It’s this truth that has driven communities across the globe to ban cell phones in classrooms and for kids under a certain age.

The Power of Human Connection

A powerful antidote is engaging with the people in your community, people who can help you determine whether what you read online is something you need to worry about.  I’ll share an example.

Months back I was at a local pizza place.

Arriving shortly after they opened.  

I love the energy of this place.  

Lots of windows to let in natural light, very cool tunes selected by the even cooler staff who know me for my periodic working lunches.  

Because of my timing I’m there when teens on their lunch break form a line to the door.

A line that goes by the table where I like to sit.

I’m always amazed by how polite the mostly male students are, talking and laughing quietly while they wait for their turn to order.

How nice they are to the staff.  

Obviously, they were taught manners.

One afternoon I looked up to see a man in an army jacket in the middle of the pack.  There were ribbons on his jacket reflecting service though it was evident he was no longer active.  What struck me was his expression.  The guy was in serious distress.

Are You Okay?

I mouthed the question to which, looking as if he was about to crumble, he shook his head.  I went to him, my intention to hug him and help him feel okay.  

After asking his permission that’s what I did.

I had a pretty good idea what was upsetting him.  The web was filled with headlines about the growing political divide and thanks to various media platforms it was all too easy to feel as if you would be the victim of malice by people you’ve never met and who don’t know you.

Keenly aware of the teens close by I dropped my voice and asked if he was upset about recent events which weren’t favorable to the men and women who serve our country.  He nodded put his head on my shoulder and cried silently while I held him.

Keeping his voice low he told me how proud he was to have served his country, how his parents raised him with good values.

Treating people with respect was high on that list.

I stepped back so I could look him in the eye, took his hands and said, “What you read is not reflective of your community.  The people here do not feel that way.  You are safe here.  Hear me?  You are safe.”

He sniffled but nodded and we chatted a few minutes more even as the line moved.  I gave him another hug, promised him it was going to be okay, then went back to my salad and my work.

I wrote about that day and there’s a very good reason I’m repeating it here.

There’s An App For That

Despite how often those in the tech industry are vilified many continually strive to make the world a better place.

To help people live healthier happier lives.

To that end a dynamic duo recently released an app to help people break addiction to screen time, the goal being to help them reconnect with their community so they can absorb the love and friendship of those in it.

As a holistic healer I have been an enthusiastic supporter of this effort from the beginning.

I am proud to promote NoPhone: A Digital Detox app.

Feedback Welcome

I would love to hear feedback on this subject so feel free to comment.

Before I sign off I’d like to wish you peace and joy in your home and your community.

Be well!

Miss Manners: Lessons Worth Learning

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Sitting with a scented candle the cozy colors of autumn’s splendor visible through the window and thinking on recent interactions with a gentleman I would describe as having Old World Manners.  Doubtless I’m aging myself with that phrase but as I let my mind wander, couldn’t help but acknowledge with pride I raised my kids with those same manners.  Though it may seem an outdated and perhaps unnecessary skill for parents to teach, not doing so can cost kids success.

Because you never know.

The Dinner Setting

My paternal grandmother saw brilliance in the man she wanted to marry, a WW II Air Force Captain.  She enrolled in finishing school, went on to be the wife of a powerful CEO.  This woman taught me a wide range of skills –  how to entertain the 1% including how to set a place setting for a full-course European meal.  The irony?  I was living in poverty thanks to her son.  

When was I ever going to…?

Lessons Worth Learning

I once asked her, given my socio-economic realities – why waste time and energy?  Her answer?  

You Never Know When

My grandmother was investing on my behalf.  

Learn Well

I had good reason to listen to her advice even as I acknowledged she was a bit bats in the belfry.

The mansion behind their property literally had a belfry even as I went without food, clothes that fit… power shut off in winter due to lack of paying the bills.

But…

I had dreams.  

From the time I was 6 I talked of traveling the world and being something more though I kept those dreams a secret in my heart.

A lot of her persuasion revolved around painting a vision of a time I lifted myself out of poverty and these lessons would come in handy.

She should have been an actress.  She was brilliant painting a time when…

She made me believe.

12 Years Later

10 – 15 years younger than my tech peers I nonetheless helped secure a huge win that put my district on the global map.  As such I was included in the award – a weekend stay at a 5-star hotel and a stipend for a nice dinner.

I worked 80 hours a week several weeks in a row alongside peers on a customer opportunity that brought in hundreds of millions of dollars.

Single I reached out to a high school buddy to go with me.

His parents grilled me for over an hour on details.

Ah Details

I chose a nice steakhouse away from restaurants where I’d likely run into my colleagues.  To my surprise my buddy started asking if his tie was crooked, if he’d placed the silverware correctly…

I assured him the wait staff had taken care of it.

It got to a point where he admitted he was terrified of shaming me at the upcoming award banquet.  

Needless to say I assured him there was nothing to worry about.

As the youngest recipient of the award I was equally nervous but I’d worked my tail off.

Doing The Right Thing

I’ve raised my kids with Old World Manners not with the idea I’m trying to shape them into world leaders but because it’s the right thing to do.  Smiling?  Treating People with respect?  Wishing them a good day?  Lifting them up when they need a helping hand?  THESE are the pillars upon which decent society was built and in spite of what you may read on the web it’s the fabric that still exists.

Across the globe.

Pass the baton of good manners…

If you didn’t have the opportunity to learn at home there are plenty of books on etiquette so take advantage of your local library and dream your future.

Be Well

The Power of a Hug

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Listening to The Gift from Gary Numan’s Intruder album and reflecting on the power of a hug.

Healing power.

As I Am Screaming starts up I recall a time when I was walking in downtown San Diego and a “hobo” (dated term I know) stepped in my path – not too close – and said with a smile – and arms open wide – “There’s someone who needs a hug.”  And oh did I need one at that moment.

I was caught up in EMF Sensitivity Hell.

Smiling and trying not to cry I walked straight into his embrace and accepted all the love he was willing to give.

More Recently

Months back while at a working lunch I looked up to see a man looking as if he was about to fall apart.

He was sandwiched between high schoolers in line for pizza or bread sticks/salad for lunch before running back to school.

I mouthed “Are you okay?”  Without saying a word he shook his head side to side.  I immediately stood and went to him thinking to hug him.

I Froze

I asked if it was okay if I hugged him.

He nodded, said nothing – looked close to crumpling.

I pulled him into a hug and said “It’s going to be okay.  I promise.  It’s going to be okay.  You’re going to be okay.”

He nodded on my shoulder – held me tight – shoulders shaking as he silently cried and said nothing.

No words were needed.

At some point I went back to my lunch – felt a bit embarrassed at the idea all these high school boys waiting for pizza saw such a display of emotion.  

Long Ago

Pontiac Eats And Beats

I ran into a former coworker while Aaron and I attended the festival.  I threw my arms around him.

We’re survivors of a toxic work environment from hell.

He held me so tight – stepped back and said “You have the best hug.”

Life

Interpretation.

I’ll leave it to readers to decide what the energy of a hug means but I’ll leave you with this.  Months ago a friend told me Psychedlic Furs were touring.  She knows how passionate I am about music – thought attending would bring me joy.

She also knows how much I love the opener – Gary Numan – which I’m listening to as I type this one-handed.

Doo-doo happens

Recently.

Slipped – put my left hand out reflexively – broke my arm.

Bummer man.

I can’t begin to express the mental/emotional toll this – in spite of lack of pain – no need for pain meds – has taken on me.

We met up with the friend who told me about the concert.  After hugging me gently she smiled pointed and said “That was me at the Cure” and in that moment healed a part of me that though isn’t physical is nonetheless broken because of what at the end of the day is an accident.

People?  Hugs heal.

Hugs convey love freely given.

Never doubt the power of love.

To heal.

Be well.

Manifesting 101: Gifts From the Universe

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Listening to Love Walks in by Van Hagar and trying to absorb the sliding doors that had to open and close – the subway cars that had to pull in and out of the station to facilitate the soul healing incidents of the weekend.

Yesterday morning I woke my daughter up to tie my shoes so I could walk to Safeway to get a bouquet of flowers I would deliver to the firehouse as a token of my appreciation.

The service they did for me?  I’d only been out of Urgent Care some 35 minutes.  Not in a great mental place.

On my way my laces came undone.  Not wanting to trip I stopped in at Starbucks and feeling humiliated – I couldn’t tie my own shoes – asked a sweet woman half my age running crazy for the morning crowd if she could tie my laces.

I felt – pretty awful.  Embarrassed.  I promised after getting flowers from grocery across the parking lot I was coming back to have coffee.

And get a treat for my daughter – just to be nice – not as a price for tying my shoes – how I felt about the barista.

This wonderful woman double-knotted my laces.

Ginsu Moment.

Showing my age I know.

I selected a beautiful bouquet I was going to put in a backpack I’d pull over a shoulder.

Sling keeping the other busy.

I approached two ladies to help me put the flowers in a plastic sleeve so they wouldn’t drip into my backpack.

I was going to tuck a sweet in as a treat for my daughter.  Soggy?  No good.  Explaining this mess to the kind woman who took time out of her busy morning to help me?  Forget it.

No Way!

One of the women laughed and said “Two peas in a pod!”

The woman who helped me with the flowers?  She had the same type splint on her left forearm!

She’d fallen off a ladder and broke her arm in the same place!

Fast forward and dear daughter and I are walking to the door at the fire station only to see a sign for business hours.

Sunday isn’t one of those days.

There WAS a sign that pointed to an old-fashioned doorbell “Press here for service.”

And another that read if an emergency dial 911. Delivering flowers to say thank you?  Um.  No.

It was a great feeling handing over the bouquet and thanking the men and women who’d heard about my adventure.

As to Synchronicity?

I was told it was lucky timing.  Apparently the crew had just closed out a call that enabled them to go to Starbucks for some java.

And help someone they had no idea was waiting for them.

Be well.

Manifesting For Someone Else: Divine Timing

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Did a working lunch at a local place with a good vibe.  A guy who works came in for his shift as I was walking out.

Walking home.

I stopped to chat.  In particular I asked about his family.

His grandmother lives in the path of the tsunami as well as typhoon season.

After assuring me all was good we chatted about music.

We’re both big time metal fans.

At one point I worried I was taking too much of his time.

He was the one talking but still.  It was shift change and the place was relatively busy.

I eventually made my way home and as I was waiting on a light at a busy intersection I hit the button for crossing then glanced back to see a guy standing behind me.  As he was taller than me – aka longer stride – I decided when the light changed I would allow him to go before me.

When the light chnged I turned around smiled and said “You can go ahead.”

As It Happens…

When he used body language to verify I realized a startling detail.

Walking Stick

The man was blind.

I never noticed the stick – only that he was wearing a fashionable hat to keep his face from burning in the sunshine and that he was taller than me.

I assured him he was safe and slipped in behind him to make sure no impatient drivers tried to do something stupid.

Wait!  There’s More!

Gotta love Ginsu right?

We got close to a very busy parking lot.

Fast food restaurant drive-thru at lunch hour.

I stopped and waited – called out to him I was going to keep us safe.

He had his cane going back and forth across the sidewalk.

I made sure the drivers ready to zip out of the parking lot saw me.

And by extension him.

We eventually went our separate ways.  As I was walking the final leg home I thought about the timing of it all.  I’d been worried I was going to get a worker in trouble for talking to him during lunch hour but if I hadn’t fought my initial thought to politely excuse myself so as not to get him in trouble?

I was really interested in everything the cool restaurant worker was telling me.  I did NOT want to get him in trouble!

I would have missed being there for someone who benefitted from my protective presence.

Divine Timing.

Thanks Universe!

Manifestation?

I was there when that guy benefitted from it.  I manifested safety which may have been on his mind.

It is a very busy highway with people who regularly fly through and do “No Cop No Stop” behavior.

Trust your instincts.

Be Well.

Ice Cream Man: We Need to Tell our Stories

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I volunteer to help kids with literacy.  I showed up on a recent day and was asked if I’d be willing to work with a special needs child because the specialist had to call out.  Happy to do so I soon found myself in a secluded part of a hallway listening to a little boy read about a tour of an ice cream factory.

The nature of the program means the volunteers and students find places to sit together which may be in an overcrowded room with a cacophany of voices or in a hall where students changing classes walk by.

At one point he looked at me and asked “Why so many screams?”

This was after watching him struggle with the fact he was trying to form the thought.  Telling him to take his time seemed to help him relax and articulate what was on his mind.

Why So Many Screams?

I immediately picked up his concern over the word scream but also knew he lacked context.  I quickly explained it was a childhood rhyme.

I scream you scream we all scream for ice cream.

I suspected my explanation didn’t fly because he wasn’t familiar with the rhyme so I quickly explained it was something kids would call out when chasing the ice cream man.  This necessitated I explain what the ice cream man was.

And why kids would be chasing him.

I admit – I have not seen or heard an ice cream man in all the years I’ve lived in this region of the country but that didn’t stop me from telling this sweet boy

“I’m old.  When I was little in Michigan my friends and me would chase the ice cream man – you could hear him coming by the music in his truck – yelling “I scream you scream we all scream for ice cream.”

I watched him think over the honest explanation then slowly nod.  And then he smiled.

A beautiful smile that lit up his features.

He said “I can’t wait to tell my mom.”

I don’t know if his mom is a translplant from another part of the country – maybe a place where she grew up hearing the telltale sound of an ice cream truck coming in her direction – but it reinforces my belief that we need to share stories with our kids

and grandkids …

I saw first hand how the lack of knowledge confused and alarmed.

We need to tell our stories

To share wisdom and give context.

And to reassure.

Generations: Why We Need to Tell Our Stories

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Finding myself staring at the sceen and knowing I needed to get out of my environment to break it loose I decided to take advantage of a bit of chilly winter sun and walk to a place I could get lunch.

It’s a further walk – more Vitamin D – and with my laptop in my backpack – more of a workout.

I was seated at a booth on the other side from a table of adults where I proceeded to set the laptop on the table and open it up.

And dig into some awesome chips and salsa.

Not long after and before ordering a woman with two small children came in.  The younger one – a boy about 4 – was already whining.  

Diagnosis?  Overtired and very hungry.  Maybe some molar action too.

I’d just gotten my lunch order when a mom came in with a very whiny toddler – about 4.  

They put them on the other side of me.

Working diligently I was able to block out the chaos going on on either side of me.

Mostly.

At one point I saw the mom take both kids who’d be in competition with a fire alarm outside.  At the same time I heard the woman behind me explaining to a 4-year-old what  SHE does when she has a tummy ache.

Ummmm – did that translate?

I kept at it making awesome progress on my project.

To the degree I was happy I followed my instinct to go to this place for lunch.

At one point I saw the mom of the two youngins crouch down and ask a very teary-eyed 4-year-old – bawling from being overly tired – while his older sister – also whining – stood by his side.

“What do you want?”

What Do You Want?

A for effort mom but – um – not the most productive approach.

His wailing would have been heard at Ford Field after the Detroit Lions scored a touchdown.

Not being critical just realistic.  I seriously wonder if – bawling his eyes out – he even heard the question.

Generations.

It was at this point I recalled a conversation my son and I had recently wherein we talked of the benefits of multiple generations being involved in family life.

I went so far as to suggest a big part of why fewer couples are having kids is because they don’t have the support they need and don’t want to have to choose between the well-being of their kids and the need to bring more income into the home so they can make a better life for their kids.

As I watched both moms struggle to control kids who were going further and further into meltdown territory…

At one point a woman came in to help the mom behind me and I heard her shortly after order a Jim Beam with lime. 

 Kiddo was fun!

I thought how different the day could have gone for each mom if they’d been coached by someone who’d been there before and could explain why their go-to strategy was making the situation worse.

Grandparents?  Older Sibling?  Cousins?

All People I watched guiding family members through those fun days.

And who later guided me.

It made me think how I grew up in a large multi-generational family – holding babies on my lap from the time I was old enough to bear their weight so my aunts and uncles could get a break long enough to eat.

And listening to my grandma coach her daughters – new moms – on the normalcy of what they were experiencing and offering other advice.

Which included “THROW THAT BOOK OUT!” when it came to the Dr. Spock book.

It brought me back to the conversation with my son and how even though the realities of today’s economy makes it so some have to move far from home

Having lived through multiple economic downturns in Detroit – thanks to the Manufacturing Industry – I understand the need to move so you have peace of mind to start a family without having to worry about being laid off shortly after you do.

There is a need for people to tell their stories!

Email?  Cell phone?  SNAIL MAIL?

Why not me?

Oh sure I considered offering a word of encouragement to the harried women or even distracting their kids by telling the little girl how beautiful her dress was, etc but I remembered how well that turned out for me last time.

I was at Target and needed to go to the bathroom.  There was a very young toddler girl in there by herself asking for her mom and putting her head under every stall door – including mine – in an effort to find her.  Alarmed when this went on for several minutes I decided I’d go to a customer service representative after I washed my hands so they could page for the mom …

This poor little girl was so scared asking all these strange adult women for her mom.

After drying my hands I stepped out to find a woman standing in the general area.  I inquired whether she had a young daughter to which she replied yes.  When I mentioned she was scared and going under the stalls asking for her mom the woman turned on me like a rabid animal and snapped “Well you’re just perfect aren’t you?”

???!

Um – no.  

Never came close to suggesting as much either.

She followed up by screaming at me with a lot of – well – it wasn’t great to be on the receiving end.

At the restaurant? My heart went out to the moms but with the memory of the Target fun – which happened years back – inflicting fresh wounds? I elected to stay silent rather than offer a word of encouragement.

Or to compliment the little boys on how cool their sweatshirts were which might have distracted them long enough to give the mom a chance to catch their breath.

Once Bitten Twice Shy, No?

All the more reason we need to tell our stories!

I offered silent support but thought how much better it would have been for those women had they had the type of support that comes from generations of moms telling their stories.

So they would have a plethora of tools in their toolbelts.

We Need to Tell Our Stories

Note: Image by Richard Anderson of San Jose, CA