A few years into my second divorce, I’m finding myself at an interesting intersection: My first marriage and divorce is diluted in my mind as I was (A) exceptionally young when I married and divorced, and (B) the process and ensuing contact over the years has been minimal at best. I’ve had non-marital breakups that were worse than what I experienced in my first go-round. Now as a middle-aged woman who shares three children with a man from whom I’m divorced, there’s an intricacy and intimacy to our post marital relationship I didn’t expect, and frankly, don’t know how to handle. Continue Reading
I’m not big on resolutions, but I made one this year. I resolved to break up with Starbucks.
My coffee addiction runs deep, and like a true Bostonian, it started with The Coffee Connection. I remember the day they were… gasp… acquired by Starbucks. The brash West Coast newcomer was not a welcome addition to my morning routine. I found their brew bitter, and the fact that I had to add my own cream and sugar really pissed me off. However, I’m a creature of habit, so I continued to beat the same path, to the same location, and eventually got used to the new taste and the new routine of doctoring my own waking elixir. Continue Reading
Three years ago I lost 18 pounds. In some circumstances this would be an exciting thing, but in my case it was not. I’m of the school that women (people?) fall into two basic categories: those who eat their emotions and those who starve them away. I fall into the latter category. Continue Reading
In preparation for the move back into our newly renovated house, I’ve been coordinating the reduction of boxes and furniture that have resided in storage for far too many moons. It’s a cumbersome task, particularly for someone who ascribes too much significance to inanimate objects. It’s taken me years to convince myself that giving away mother’s dining room chairs was not an act of emotional treason, but a pragmatic decision that helped a family in need, while making space in my own home. Continue Reading
Image courtesy of Chanel
Middle age kind of snuck up on me, and along the way I neglected to read the memo about thinning hair and eyebrows. One afternoon I was staring at my reflection in the mirror, wondering why everything seemed a bit… off. I looked like myself, only sparse and faded. Later I ran into a friend who’s a few years older. She looked so bright and awake. “I just had my lashes done,” she breathlessly informed me. “Don’t they look great!” She batted her eyes at me, and I had to agree she looked fabulous. Everything about her seemed more vibrant and intense. Of course you know what I did next…
After a 60-minute session that was surprisingly relaxing, I walked out of the salon with a full set of “permanent” eyelash extensions. Continue Reading
Sometimes I get overwhelmed with disdain for myself. Those days when I can’t get out of my own way, I just want to sit on the curb; put my head in my hands and hope someone will come along and offer me an ice cream cone.
I had one of those moments when I renewed my drivers license. I rearranged my schedule so I wouldn’t miss the deadline; went on-line to ensure my parking tickets had been paid; downloaded and completed the renewal form and went to a satellite office–rather than the fustercluck downtown–to save a few precious hours, waiting in line. I even went so far as to blow dry my hair so my picture wouldn’t look like a mug shot. Continue Reading
A few years ago I changed doctors because my PCP wouldn’t prescribe me something for sleep. I’d gone in for a routine check-up and mentioned I wasn’t sleeping well. I felt exhausted, and as a result, was living my life strung out on caffeine and sugar while carpooling tweens and arguing with teenagers. My barely 30-something-mother-of-a-toddler GP proceeded to lecture me on the evils of poor nutrition and chemical support, suggesting I try a soothing bath and some quiet time, perhaps a cup of herbal tea before bed. She informed me she was morally opposed to sleeping pills because they’re highly addictive and tend to be used to mask greater problems than irregular sleep patterns. Continue Reading
When I think about heart attacks, old men in sweater vests and glasses come to mind. Actually I don’t think about heart attacks much. I’m (fairly) young, (reasonably) fit. I don’t smoke, limit my alcohol, my kale smoothies are legendary, and I practice yoga every day. I certainly never expected to find myself on the receiving end of crushing chest pain. Continue Reading
Recently I attended the funeral of my ex-step-father in-law. I’ll do the math for you: He was my ex-husband’s step-father and one of two grandfathers that my children knew. I realized long ago, learning how to do divorced was going to be an on-going exercise. Continue Reading