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Trust, but Verify
Dude #1: “I am so glad I checked.” Dude #2: “I would do anything to be able to go back and check.” Where do you fall when it comes to verifying information that could tip the scales toward relief or disaster? As a mom, it’s my job, my right, and my responsibility to ask my kids questions about their outings, friends, whereabouts, etc. Sometimes (ahem—like this morning) I get major pushback, but I press on. Why? Because regrets carry weight and guilt, and teens actually want boundaries. Prudence: Careful, wise discernment; the good management of talents and resources and the showing of tact and wisdom in relationships with other…
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Back to Work, Back to Reality
His calm voice sounded kind, but his words surprised me. “We’re spending too much and not bringing in enough. I think we need you to start working.” My husband was right, mostly, but the hardest part of his comment was that I already feel like I work. I wish my writing provided a full-time, regular income, but while keeping up a blog and writing a book pushes me forward, neither are helping our bottom line at the moment. I countered with logic. “I’m happy to work a conventional job, but don’t you think we could just cut some corners and spend less?” “Maybe a little, but I want to go out…
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Lord of the Flaws
Though some exasperated parents might joke about dropping their sassy Tweens on an island, I’m fairly certain no parent would want the experience to resemble William Golding’s version. My son brought home his 7th-grade required reading list last month. I scanned it, unfazed until I reached the one title that zipped me right back to my 7th-grade English class and made me cringe. Lord of the Flies still remains one of my all-time least-loved books. Ever. Visions of being totally grossed out to the max and putting it down after reading each chapter still linger. Bloodthirsty boys painting their faces, stalking a beast, killing pigs, and eventually turning on some…
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When You Don’t Wanna Bloom Where You’re Planted
When the Mary Englebreit craze invaded 1996, I joined millions of other fans and hung her calendar on my wall. I liked her one-two faith punch: “Everything is a risk. What if it doesn’t work out?” “Oh—but what if it does?” Over the years my floral style changed, but I now see that she produces black and white art, and her sayings/phrases are clever with a side of sass. For example, you’ll find these on some of her recent cards: “When you thought everything would be easy peasy lemon squeezy, but it’s actually difficult, difficult, lemon difficult.” “When life shuts a door, open it again. It’s a door. That’s how…
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I Moved Into Our New House and Met 19 New Neighbors on Our Street! It Was Weird.
It started five months ago with the people who share our fence. They were nice and we were new, so the conversation revolved around our dogs, mail for the former owner, and if the HOA is strict about paint colors. They are. Handshakes and names quickly moved to swim invites and baked goods, with a walk for the ladies and a beer for the guys. Southern California fence culture says, “That side’s yours, this side’s mine. Keep your tree limbs trimmed.” But since I’m not originally from here, Carrie culture says, “Let’s knock the fence down and have a BBQ!” The first thing we noticed about our new neighborhood…
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Classy Smut: TV Shows That Suck Us In
I walked by the dilapidated Baja house with the window open and heard it. I visited Porvenir friends in the middle of the afternoon and saw it. Almost every time we ate tacos early, like old people, we saw it again—at our favorite stand, just above the raw meat. Ask any woman in most Latin American countries what rules the mid-mornings and afternoons at home and they’ll probably say the same thing: Novelas. Known as Soap Operas in English, the name originated from the squeaky clean stuff we call soap. Since most women worked at home in the 1930s, daytime dramas targeted them and their cleaning needs. The networks required…
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Your Hoopie’s Showing
My grandma. So sweet and helpful. If you ever wore a necklace in her presence and the clasp slid around toward the front, she was your girl. “Oh here, honey, let me help you. Your hoopie’s showing.” I naturally learned from an early age how hoopies should be on the back of my neck and only the back. Letting them rotate to the front looked unkept/disheveled. I also learned wrinkled clothing was a no-no. From t-shirts and jeans to knickers and parachute pants, everything qualified. Does this give you hives? Let’s be clear though: I’m still a fan of ironed clothes if I’m going somewhere that demands a grown-up…
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I Like it When You Say That. Now Please Stop.
I’m weak, okay? There–I said it. I’d like to think I can handle whatever gets thrown my way, but no. So in an effort to change and grow, I’ve made a list. These random observations have been bothering me lately so I thought I’d bother you with them. In no particular order, I offer you three things I like to hear: Numero Uno: Your Kids Are So Tall! I know—I’ve done it too. Well-intentioned words that sound like compliments, as if the child got that high on the measuring stick based on talent. Besides the fact they already know it, there’s nothing inherently wrong with telling kids they’re tall. The…
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Lord of the Flaws
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Need Attention? Please Don’t Spin Like a Record, Baby.
Organizing one college boy and six high school girls into two cars proved simple. Life in 1992 revolved around a manageable amount of activities, so none of us had a problem scheduling a date for the shoot. Three of us sat on the brink of caps and gowns, ready for diplomas but not ready for goodbyes, so our last attempt to commemorate our friendship and seal our bond came in the form of photos. From conservative Mount Hermon to liberal Santa Cruz, we made our way to 701 West Cliff Drive with windows up to protect our amateur makeup and Aqua Net perms. May at the beach didn’t always…
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Gym Rookie: Humbled Under the Barbell
My doctor told me women my age should lift weights. Pause right there. “Women my age?” One perk of moving back to suburbia is living within a few miles of my former gym. Since I took my membership card to Mexico twelve years ago, and then brought it back, I figured I’d take a shot and see if I still existed in their system. Week One: I opened the glass door in a slightly self-conscious manner and approached a young, over-bubbly staff member. “Hi! Can I help you?” “Uhh, yes… are there a maximum amount of years you’ll hold a frozen account?” “I don’t think so. Let me…
