Desperately seeking Zen

Holidays bring different traditions for everyone. For me, it's getting a new wall calendar and updating it month by month. I love peeling off the cellophane wrapper and pulling out the square piece of cardboard in the middle. It's a personal process that takes place on my kitchen table. I am particular about my calendar as I have to look at it all year, and am partial to the ones with pretty pictures of faraway places -- Paris, Italy, National Parks of the U.S. We've had them all. For 2014, it was "1,000 Places to See Before You Die" (really it's only 12 places with 1,000 pictures of those places but it's still exhilarating to think about going to the Seychelles Islands or Nicaragua). This year, however, I chose "Ireland" -- stone circles, pubs, green pastures and names like Limerick and Tipperary.  Haven't been there yet but hope to someday. My favorite part of getting a new calendar is transferring birthdays or important events from ...

I think it's funny that I have not blogged since 2013. So much has happened in my life since then -- my transgender son going to college, my teenage daughter becoming her own person, my Dad being diagnosed with Parkinson's, and my own history with alcohol abuse and what might be hidden underneath. I also ran my first half-marathon, started plans to build a new house with my husband and led a nonprofit for two years while working full-time. So you see, I needed some help. Like many women today, I recently started seeing a counselor. Not for any of the challenges listed above but mostly because I need to figure out who I was as a little kid and who I am today. For people with confidence, power to you. But I finally realized that talking about myself for one hour a week and not caring about anyone else is great therapy. It helps me become a better person, mother, daughter, wife and colleague. My counselor -- we'll call her Mother T. --  is awesome! She has long, flowy blo...

Some of my earliest childhood memories are of sharing McDonald's fries with my Dad after preschool. I would eat them. He would steal one. It was a game...sort of.  To this day I am very protective of my food. I take bigger portions than my 5 foot almost 4 inches really needs. I secretly always take the biggest scoop of ice cream or cake. In short, I love my food. So don't mess with it or deny me. Junk food is no exception, though my healthy Humboldt county husband brought more veggies and salad into my life. I relapsed mostly when I was pregnant with my second child. McDonald's sausage egg biscuits in the morning...Cheetos and Coke (not Diet) at 4 p.m. every day. It was probably NOT fate then that she has of late been my partner in crime when it comes to eating out. We discovered Mountain Dew slushees, smothered burritos and Doritos tacos and cinnamon twists at Taco Bell  and went back three times during the last few weeks when the healthy husband and vegetarian son were...

It's no secret that my husband is the glue who holds our household together. Now that he has been gone for over a week it's even more obvious! I have been eating out every night he's been gone except one. It seems that Taco Bell has really good and seemingly "healthy" food, so Anna and I have been there twice. The verdict is still out on the $5 Little Caesar pizza though. Alas, the bad role model fashion extends beyond our eating habits, as I've let the house go to hell as well. And I still have to mow the overgrown yard. Now granted this is the first week of school and I'm single Momming it, but still, how old am I that I can't put the folded clothes away after 5 days or pick up my shoes? Oh that's right, 44. Probably more than halfway through my life IF I'm lucky. So is this my mid-life crisis I keep hearing about? Guess I've been too busy to have one until now given some of the challenges my family has been facing in the last few ye...

You know how you say "never say never?" Well, I know my husband sure did after our beloved Newfie-mix Kirby died last April. Now in his defense, my husband didn't hate dogs, just the allergies that came with one in the house...and reemerging childhood asthma. So I suppressed my dog-loving genetic code  for my marriage and we went on with our lives. At first I agreed it was less work not having one more responsibility. Less dog hair to sweep up. No rushing home after a long day to let the dog out. No poop to pick up before mowing. No $1,200 vet bills when the dog chased a squirrel and tore his ACL. But I missed the companionship. The unconditional affection. The sweet brown eyes. And the long walks. Then, just when I had pretty much come to the conclusion I would be dogless forever...we found Charlie! Never in all my dogs I'd had as a child and adult had we had the toy version. My impression of most small dogs was peeing on someone's feet from nervousness an...

Well I had heard the rumors that Maui and Hawaii in general was a magical place. I have certainly been cast under its spell. It's not just one thing like the calming waves or the "Alohas" of people you meet on morning beach walks, or the fish tacos (yes, I find food to be quite magical). It's just this unexplainable "chill" factor. You unwind. I have not thought about work for nearly 7 days. I have drank less alcohol and walked or run every day. I have spent quality time with my 14-year-old daughter who I can see now really does need me if not in the way I might expect. Yesterday I met this amazing massage therapist who is legally blind. Always the journalist I asked many questions about Hawaii. She told me the story of how she used to come here as a teenager to visit her divorced father, a former NYC fashion designer. He went on to start a new life here, going back to school, getting his master's and PhD and becoming a renowned psychiatrist in Hawa...

Sometimes good things happen to good people. I'd like to think that is what happened to me a few weeks ago when trying to plan a trip with my 14-year-old daughter. What started out as the idea (hers) of a road trip to L.A. turned into a week's stay in Hawaii after a spontaneous suggestion by my husband. Our neighbor's condo just happened to be available and we had some mileage to help cover one plane ticket. We shopped for shorts, sunscreen and sun dresses (not really needed in the Northwest -- summer or no). Getting out the door was a bit harried as travel anxiety runs in our family but I only had to go back to the house twice for forgotten "maybe we'll need this" items, including a total of 7 books between us. Once on the plane safely, I realized I had booked our seats apart -- not next to -- each other. I knew this was probably a relief to my daughter, who had listened to my constant "did you do this?" for the last two days of packing. I found ...