Developing good listening skills is a top priority for me in 2019. I know some folks who will be REAL thrilled about that.
Let's just say that, after our Thanksgiving convo mishap this morning, I am VERY thankful that successful parenting doesn't hinge on ONE conversation. Especially if it takes place in carline before I've had enough coffee.
Something new is about to happen at Rocket Fuel, y'all. Wait, what's Rocket Fuel?!? It's the place where I write about parenting and recovery and running and coffee. I cuss a lot. I ponder the big questions in life. I talk about my marriage. My spirituality. How my adulthood is shaping up--for better or worse.
The pieces of me--my love for writing and running, my need to sing off key at every song on the radio, my penchant for remembering lines to movies and bits of songs I haven't heard in years--make me who I am. I honor myself by making time to do things I love, so that my daughter sees the woman who shapes her world as a whole person.
I am a master at self-sabatoge. I'm a hard worker. But I like to work right up to where I want to be, then decide I just can't do it. That I don't deserve it. That I can't handle it. And then, I just .... stop.
I wish I'd known, from the time I was a little girl, that my worth was not defined by my relationship to boys--not whether I liked a boy, was desired by a boy, or whether or not a boy had ever stuck his dick in me.
Kids excel at two things: Making sure their parents can never, ever again have sex without subconsciously (or, too often, VERY consciously) listening for the sound of little feet approaching the bedroom door, and Waylaying even the best laid plans. Fortunately for you, this post is about the waylayification of expertly laid plans. I work... Continue Reading →
Jane & I went rock climbing a while back. She's been obsessed since then. When I say obsessed, I mean more conceptually than practically--it took me months to get her back in the rock climbing gym after that first time. But surely not for lack of her asking. And asking. And asking. Here's the thing... Continue Reading →
7 years ago, I couldn't even manage to go out and get COFFEE with my friend who visited this weekend. I mean, it's true that she's kind of infinitely cool. I'm totally not. But anxiety is more than being afraid someone won't like you... it's a fear of being seen that is so deep, and so horrifying, that running away feels like the only answer, even when what you desire most is connection.
I sort of threw Jane in dance so I’d have an extra day to work past 2:30 pm. She seemed to like it. But sometimes it’s hard to tell if Jane likes an activity or just likes hanging with her friends. I don’t begrudge her that. I like to hang with my friends, too. And if she’s hanging while she’s doing pirouettes or what-the-hell-ever, so much the better.