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Kicked Out of the Bank: When Rejection Suddenly Strikes You and Your Family
A few years into Baja living, my husband learned to roll with the inconvenient punches, knew exactly how to pay all the bills in person, and understood the cultural norms. But of all the places we visited in the city, going to a Mexican bank never felt fun. Between 230 cars jockeying for 13 parking spaces, sketchy holes in the sidewalks and a general feeling of being a tad nervous carrying too much cash, I preferred to stay in the car. Or at home. At least their banks had real police officers packin’ heat at the front door. None of this rent-a-cop packin’ snacks nonsense you find in the States. …
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Optimists and Their Kryptonite: Why Blowing Sunshine Doesn’t Always Work
Just because I normally see my kombucha bottle as half full doesn’t mean I don’t get sad when it’s empty. A large portion of optimists I know tend to be funny, super friendly, or both. One friend said she’s the funniest on social media when she’s depressed or going through muck. Another posts closeup pics of calm objects and events even though her life is falling apart behind the scenes. I belong to the optimistic lifers club. And I married a pessimist. Of course I didn’t know he was a pessimist when I walked down the aisle, but I figured it out pretty quick. He says assuming the worst makes…
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Boring Testimonies: No Drama Necessary
My second boyfriend acted like a goody-two-shoes, but mostly wasn’t. My third boyfriend had a long scar on his face. I never asked why. My fifth boyfriend lived in a group home and wasn’t that into… talking. My sixth got kicked out of school, but I don’t remember why. My husband tells stories of his past that make you wonder how and why he’s still alive. He sold pot in middle school, went to church hungover, and almost blew up his high school gym, but eventually, he grew up and started a nonprofit ministry. He also got stuck on the back of a motorcycle while the driver flew through the…
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Dear Gray Hairs: Stop Yer Moanin’
Nothin’ like receiving a personalized letter from my healthcare provider to make me feel cared for. And geriatric. Dear Carrie, The recent x-ray of your neck shows degenerative disease. Arthritis, also called osteoarthritis, is a breakdown of the cartilage that cushions your joints. How can you care for yourself at home? Use a cane, crutch, walker, or another device if you need help to get around. These can help rest your joints. You also can use other things to make life easier, such as a higher toilet seat and padded handles on kitchen utensils. Fantastic. As soon as I slide down from my higher toilet seat I’ll pad all my…
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Dumbing Down Our Kids: 11 Rules of Life to Challenge the Teens in Your Life
If an adult called all teens young, dumb and broke, there would most likely be a hormonal backlash with a protest march and a side of attitude. But for some reason when a teen writes a song with the same title, his young followers blare it like their mantra and dance like someone’s watching. When we adults think of our own teen years, most of us probably agree… young, dumb and broke sounds fairly accurate. That’s not our dream for the next generation though. So how do you think the majority of our young people drifted so far from our grandparents’ standards of working hard, saving before you spend, and…
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Young Bride, Thick Pride: Choosing to Stay
I never excelled in math. So the first time someone told me having small kids was when the days dragged and the years flew, it didn’t make sense. But I loved it. Exactly! Someone finally understands the weird time warp. I occasionally feel the same in my marriage. Since working and writing and constantly feeding my people, individual days don’t usually drag. But over the years I’ve caught myself in the middle of a particularly rough marriage patch thinking, “How many more years is it going to be like this?” And then last week I woke up and thought, “How did we get here?” If you think you have a…
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Above Reproach: 3 Stories with Men That Changed My Ways
At the ripe old age of 16-ish, I’m pretty positive I couldn’t have told you what living above reproach meant. Fifteen years later I moved to Baja and lived above a roach (a colony of them actually), but that’s different. The appearance of evil is a tricky thing. If you’re not actually doing anything evil/wrong/illegal, it’s easy to argue it’s no biggie. How it appears to outsiders looking in is whole ‘nother ballgame. I didn’t realize it for years, but I’ve had three similar experiences that could’ve flipped me on my head and changed the trajectory of my life. They didn’t just happen to me though—I chose them. I just…
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The Hungry Games
(Shared with permission) Age: nine Child: mine Attitude: fine Until it wasn’t. When one of our kids got in trouble for a garden-variety no-no, I figured the next steps would resemble the rest. Too tall to spank and not naughty enough to ground, I sent him to the back room where his timeout minutes matched his age. He knew the rule: any yelling or screaming made the time start over. Normally, regret bubbled and his demeanor recovered before I returned. But this time it elevated from mad to angry to ballistic in way less than nine minutes. In a house on a foundation, the muffled sounds of fists beating floors…
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What the What? Didn’t See THAT Comin’
I cooked in my kitchen when the house phone rang. “Sharri has cancer.” I sat in his Jeep when he told me we were done. “I’m loving you more than I’m loving Jesus.” I stood on my college campus when I read, “You have not been selected for the position.” I walked through a Costco parking lot when he called. “Carrie? He’s gone.” I soaked in a jacuzzi when I realized I was the only one not invited to a party. I rode in a van when her voice shook through my cell. “She’s probably not going to make it through the evening.” You didn’t see life comin’ either? It’s…
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Working Moms: Killin’ It or Barely Makin’ It?
Almost a month into my new job and I’ve collected just enough data to tell you what I’ve learned about being a working mom in the States. It’s complicated. Being a working mom in Baja looked super different for many reasons, most of which revolved around flexible hours and not having to tell anyone when I went to the restroom. Now I’m on the clock for very specific hours and learning to resist checking my cell every 12 minutes for fear someone needs me. No one’s gotten sick or impaled lately, but I assured my youngest he could still reach me. “Buddy… if there’s an emergency, call my office. I’m…
