eatthefrostingfirst

Dear Class of 2019 1) Remember where you come from. Not literally like the birds and the bees where you come from. But your values.  This doesn't mean you cannot change. After all, we kind of expect you to. But remember that little voice in your heart and your head. That voice is most likely your parents. The ones telling you to follow your gut; not the crowd. Stay true. 2) Call an uber. You are blessed to be living in a world of technology. Within seconds you can make the smart choice of not getting behind the wheel after you have spent a night out drinking with friends (or drinking your sorrows away over a broken heart which , you know, will happen) Call the uber. But remember to ask "what's my name?" before getting in. #whatsmyname 3) And call your Mom. Stop making fun of her that her knees creak. One day yours will too. 4) Raise your hand. Ask questions and keep asking questions.  (But don't to the point of annoyance) 5) A warm smile, sense of humo

I woke up needing to pry open my left eye. To then find it looked like a bottle of ketchup leaked into my eyeball. TMI? I'm self diagnosing myself with pink eye which instantly brings me back to being 11 years old at camp. Many things instantly bring me back to camp  but especially pink eye, Because at camp there used to be wide spread cases of pink eye and we would have to designate a pink eye sink in the bathroom. Or in some cases, sinks with a giant s. And above the sink would be a giant bloodshot eye that some counselor drew with giant letters saying PINK EYE SINK which clearly was designated for those who had pink eye. Because it spreads like wild fire. Especially at an overnight camp. Especially when you are 11 and don't always wash your hands like you're supposed to. Or you know, at all. We were like lepers. We were on the no swim list (for those of us that hated instructional swim that was a giant plus) We were called into the infirmary twice

So there is this adorable little video going viral of little kids singing at a church concert. One girl;  in particular,  is rocking out. Beating to her own drum. Which is clearly, all of awesomeness. I assume it is going viral because she is stinking cute as well as the obvious rocking out part while everyone else is doing the "dutiful" motions and singing. What I wonder if anyone else noticed the girl next to rocking out girl. She is hiding her face with her blanket or stuffed animal. Clearly not enjoying the concert as much as her neighbor. I could not help but zoom in on her. She is not one to enjoy the spotlight ( I assume.) Maybe she is scared or embarrassed  or nervous. maybe she is having an off morning or maybe hates being on camera or maybe she doesn't want to sing the song and do the motions. Whatever the reason is, my heart was focused on her. Because I'm thinking that her mom was focused on her and maybe sad that rocking out gir

Today I received this email from the principal at my son's middle school that would be MIDDLE SCHOOL for those that didn't comprehend the word the first time that would be children mostly ranging from 11-14. "I am writing to inform you that a swastika was drawn in a boys bathroom.  We have been able to identify the student responsible for this incident and disciplinary action has been taken.  Experiences like this one allow us to continue to teach students about the impact words and actions have on our community.  While this situation is upsetting, I am proud of the actions taken by students who reported the situation and helped with our investigation.  I believe these students did exactly what we want them to do in order to keep our environment safe and welcoming for all students." A family discussion was had.  My first reaction was that of disgust.  Then came disbelief (because, after all, we are talking MIDDLE SCHOOL). Then I went to anger (hoping that th

"We've turned into our mothers" My friend told me the other day. Oh don't I know it, I replied. Yet I realized I turned into my mother a very long time ago. 16 year old me would never have wanted to turn into my mother. She didn't get me. I certainly was not about to confide in her. We were nothing alike. Fast forward to being an adult and I eat every single word I ever said. We were actually, exactly alike. And I realized the reason that we may have disagreed in those teenage years was because we were SO alike. When DH and I started dating, he would often ask "who are you talking to?" I usually replied "my mother" Where he would then reply "didn't you just talk to your mother earlier?" Where then I would laugh. Because of course I had spoken to her earlier. But that was about a movie that I wanted to see with her or regarding a book we both recently read. This phone call was to gossip about an old friend.

It's been 6 months since I visited the breast center, which means it's time to get the boobs checked. Or really, one boob. Because the other is fake so there's really nothing to check. Although let's remember that the fake boob gave me a cancer reoccurrence so I'm not so sure I'm a believer in not checking the fake boob. Because it's been 2 years since I actually found the reoccurrence lump that would have probably never showed up on an MRI and definitely not on a mammogram so if it wasn't for my due diligence...let's just say this would not be so full of sarcasm. Well that's not true because it's my native language but it wouldn't be happy sarcasm. So yea, do self checks. I do them all the time. Like all the time. I'm off my anxiety meds (HA. I know. It's funny.) and to be honest, I check them less than I did when I was on the meds so go figure. I'm always seeing if perhaps the area they blasted with radia

The morning the campers arrived at camp, our director; Larry (may he rest in peace) would say : "the campers are coming, let us pray" There was a sarcastic (yet truthful) undertone to it which may not come across through the written word but it makes me smile to this day when I think about it (and him). The man had a headful of long blond hair who would walk around without a shirt all day because he lived for a tan. He twirled his whistle as only directors and administrative could do and was kind and funny yet authoritative and directorial. As counselors, we spent a few days prior getting ready for the 8 weeks of camp that we lived for (now trademarked "10 for 2") We had gone through "orientation" and spent hours cleaning the bunks. We were wearing our best white collared camp staff shirts(some with the collar up because it was the 80's after all) and were eagerly awaiting for the first station wagon to arrive. As staff, we were just as (s