Today We Buried Rabbits Before Breakfast

~ Author

I buried a rabbit this morning. A big one. A wild one. I’m pretty sure it was a mama.

How do I know?

Because the first thing I saw this morning, right on my front steps, was a baby rabbit. There’s plenty of land and brush nearby, so plenty of space for a nest, but not near the house. Which means something brought it up to the house. 

We quickly realized it was the dog. How did we figure that out? She brought another one. She’s part hound, after all. We should have expected it.

“Molly, no!” We screamed and she dropped it. The second little bunny hopped away, thank goodness. But the first one was a bit more helpless. We scooped it up and put it in a box in the hopes that we could find the nest and return it. 

But that was before we found mama rabbit. Dead and gutted in the yard. 

So, I went outside in my pajamas and my husband’s boots, grabbed a shovel, and buried mama rabbit. All before breakfast.

What a way to start the morning. 

We quickly set out trying to find a rescue for the little remaining baby rabbit. If you didn’t know, baby rabbits are notoriously difficult to rehabilitate. Almost impossible. They scare easily, stress easily, and die easily. We called and called and called, and texted and texted and texted. No one, it seemed, took rabbits. It was a tough morning. 

We went on with our day, waiting for a few other places to call us back. We completed our tasks, ran our errands, and collected all of the supplies the internet told us to buy just in case we couldn’t find someone to take it. “It’s probably going to die,” I told my kids. “But we can’t NOT try.”

By the time we got back from picking up supplies, the baby rabbit was dead, too. 

So, for the second time today, I went outside and buried a rabbit. 

This is the way of living in the country. There is no neighbor to call for help. There’s too much wildlife and too much space to completely protect everything from everything else. Rabbits will die. Squirrels will die. Cats and dogs will come across wild hogs and snakes. It’s not for the weak.

But as I buried my second rabbit of the day, my oldest son beside me, I realized that this really was good preparation for life. My son was helping bury a rabbit, one he hadn’t grown to love yet. One day, he would bury a dog he did love. And sometime in the future, he would witness a grandparent, a parent, a friend – all be lowered into the ground. Thank goodness his first experience was this little rabbit. 

Even though I didn’t want to wake up and deal with dead animals in my yard, I could appreciate how much the country way of life toughened you up. Even though I truly miss living with neighbors and help, I could appreciate how this way of life helped you grow thicker skin. How it helped you learn to deal with life and death and everything in between – all in a normal day’s work. 

I hope that tomorrow, I don’t wake up to bury anything. I hope it’s a normal day full of normal activities. 

But if I wake up in the morning and find a baby rabbit on my front steps, I have all the supplies to take care of it. And my kids and I will do our best to keep it alive.

And maybe in the caring and learning and dying and burying, maybe we’re keeping ourselves alive, too. Maybe we’re growing thicker skin and softer hearts. Maybe we’re learning that life is short, and we better make the most of it.

I don’t love living in the country, but maybe I’ll learn all I can while I’m here. And maybe I’ll be better off for it. 

EDITED TO ADD: Since I wrote this, we have had ANOTHER baby rabbit delivered to our door step. We tried again. The sweet little rabbit lasted longer this time, but it still died. Trying to rehabilitate baby rabbits – 0/10 do not recommend.

When I Was a Kid…

~ Author

When I was a kid, the world was magic. I could make potion out of dirt and flowers and leaves I found outside.

When I was a kid, I would wake up at six in the morning just to watch cartoons. I’d lie on a pillow right in front of the TV while everyone else was still asleep.

When I was a kid, I didn’t know how much money we had or didn’t have. It didn’t matter.

When I was a kid, we would play “lost in the jungle” at our china berry tree outside. We would turn it into a jungle paradise.

When I was a kid, I used to play in my parents’ bedroom in the evenings. They would put a baseball game on the TV, and I could smell the dinner my mom was cooking while my brother and I pretended to be animals on their bed.

When I was a kid, I thought light-up shoes were the coolest thing ever to exist. They made me so fast.

When I was a kid, spending the night with my Nanny was so special. We would stay up too late, drink too much soda. My Grandpa would yell at us to be quiet in the middle of the night. I miss them.

When I was a kid, picking out a new backpack and lunchbox was my favorite part of back-to-school. My purple My Little Pony lunchbox was a big deal.

When I was a kid, I couldn’t wait until Sunday evenings when we would play a game together as a family and cook a dessert.

When I was a kid, the school carnival was so exciting. I got to pull suckers out of hay bales and pick ducks out of little plastic swimming pools.

When I was a kid, my room felt so comfortable. It was decorated in purple with unicorns. It was mine.

When I was a kid, my favorite clothes weren’t Nike or Under Armour. I didn’t even know brands were a thing. My favorite dress was Minnie Mouse, and when I got a little older, it was a shirt with a sequined teddy bear on it.

When I was a kid, Christmas was so magical. I don’t remember 99% of the gifts, but I remember the feeling of Christmas morning. I remember the anticipation of Santa Claus. The joy that came from believing in magic.

When I was a kid, I could watch ant piles for hours, giving the ants names and jobs. I’d imagine their little lives and families and pretend it was an entirely new world.

When I was a kid, I could ride my bike all afternoon and never get bored.

When I was a kid, my parents had all the answers. All of them. I didn’t have to worry.

When I was a kid, I could watch the same movie on repeat for weeks. I would know every word by heart.

When I was a kid, I loved crawling into my parents’ bed during a thunderstorm. The storm was a lot less scary in there.

Have we forgotten how to be kids? Have we forgotten the magic and the simplicity? Does it have to be name brand and money and social media worthy all the damn time?

Can we just stop and remember what it’s like to be a kid?

Maybe that’s the key to slowing down. The key to enjoying life. The magic. Childhood.

When I was a kid, I loved my life.

Maybe I could do that again.

Life Lessons from the Olsen Twins

~ Author

I grew up with the Olsen twins. Full House was a staple show in our house and many other houses as well. When I was a kid, I waited all week for the series finale. ALL. WEEK. When Friday afternoon finally rolled around, I was prepared. I had my TV turned to the right channel. I was in my room, comfortable on my bed. I was NOT going to miss this.

And then I missed it. I got so comfortable — too comfortable — that I fell asleep. I cried. Literally.

Now, my own kids are watching the series on Hulu. I’ve heard “How Rude” and “You got it, dude” more times than I can count.

That show is a gem. But I digress. The fact is that Full House started a really cool career path for the Olsen twins.

Beyond Full House, I also watched the Olsen twins in It Takes Two (loved it), To Grandmother’s House We Go, and numerous videos that centered around them. Everyone wanted to be an Olsen twin.

And then, they disappeared. Good for them.

Luckily, they resurface every now and again to share their blank (but beautiful) stares, fashion that is way over my head, and … even some really good life advice. Actually, some of the best advice I’ve ever heard. Advice that I now share all the time to anyone who will listen. Because it’s that good.

“No is a full sentence.”

That’s it. That’s the advice. You can watch the Olsen twins give this advice for themselves here: The Olsens on Letterman.

It’s simple, but it’s so profound. No need to explain yourself. No need to justify. You just say NO, and that’s it.

I think this is a piece of advice that literally everyone should take to heart, especially women and girls. You don’t owe anyone anything. You can say NO because it feels like the right thing to do, or because you can’t do something, or just because you feel like it.

Say NO. The end.

Things From the 90s That Would Make Life Better Today

~ Author

It’s easy to look back at any particular time period and think, Oh it was better back then.

Most of the time, it’s not really true. It was different, but that doesn’t always mean better.

But I also think there are things we can learn from each decade. Things we can and should take with us into the future, or rather into the now, that might make life better.

And since the 90s had internet, but it wasn’t in our hands or pockets 24/7, I definitely think there are some aspects of those pre-social media days that could make our lives better right now. In no particular order:

  • Land lines. For any young people, these are phones that plug into the wall and can’t go with you everywhere on planet earth. Can you imagine being unavailable sometimes? The horror. And the freedom.
  • iPods/MP3 Players. Music without the internet access. Perfect.
  • Movie rental places. You had to literally go to the store to pick out and rent a movie. It was an activity. And it was great.
  • Radio. I know radio still exists, but most people have streaming music. And streaming music is good shit. But the radio would expose you to things you really wouldn’t hear otherwise.
  • D.A.R.E. Just because it was fun.
  • Computer labs. We used to walk down to the computer lab at school. No laptops in the classroom, just good old paper and pencil. Going to the computer lab was exciting.

Damn, I miss the 90s. Let’s logoff sometimes, shall we? I think we’d all be happier…

The Bottom of the Curve – Buckle Up, Bitches. It Sucks Down Here.

~ Author

You know what sucks? Getting old. Not like 90 or 100, because for as much as that sucks, it’s also AWESOME to live that long. Like you can’t possibly care what others think once you’ve made a century. Right? Right?!

No, what really sucks is getting old, but not like old old. Like 40. 40 sucks. And everybody knows that 40 sucks. In fact, we know that it sucks SO MUCH that we made a little chart – the happiness curve – all about getting older. And do you know where 40 lies on the curve? At the freakin’ bottom. So if you’re 40-ish, you’re likely at the bottom of the happiness curve.

This could be good news – we can only go up from here. Or it could be bad news – like, how long do I have to suffer?

This is not to discourage all of you “about to turn 40” people out there. I’d rather be 40 than the alternative – you know, dead – but it’s hard on this side of the hill. If you haven’t made it here yet, I’m going to tell you the top reasons why it sucks over here. That way, you can prepare yourself.

The Old, the Odd, and the Annoying: Why Getting Old Sucks

  • You’re old, but not old old. Some people look at you normally, but young people start to look at you like“Oh, you’re 40.”  And let me tell you, that look makes you want to hide in your own skin.
  • You think you still look like a 30 year old. Spoiler alert: You don’t. 
  • You’re not better off in your career. You thought you would be, I know. But you’re not. In fact, you’re nowhere near where the younger you thought you would be at this age. 
  • You use phrases like at this age.
  • You have to scroll further to choose your age, or for the love of all that is Holy, your birth year. Talk about a direct hit to your confidence.
  • You don’t have a lot of money. You never did, but for some reason, you thought you would by this age.
  • You have SO much more to share about the world and how it works and what to avoid, but fewer and fewer people really care to listen. 
  • Wrinkles, age spots, gray hair. ‘Nuff said.


The Silver Lining (and no, it’s not that gray hair)

Ok, so it’s not allll bad, and we know that, too. There are a lot of good things about getting older. There’s a silver lining that has nothing to do with your hair.

For example, some people really DO listen, and you get to pass on wisdom to those who haven’t climbed the hill yet. 

And even though you no longer look like a 30 year old, you look pretty damn good. (-ish for good measure here. You look good-ish.)

You might not bounce back from a night out as quickly, but you also have less desire to have a night out that needs recovery. 

You’re smarter, but in a way that you could never explain to someone younger. It’s just experience. 

So … yea. There’s some good stuff about the tick tock of the clock.

But overall, getting old sucks. And it doesn’t really matter how many times I tell you about it, you still won’t be prepared. It comes at you fast, and once you get to the top, it goes even faster on the other side. 

If you’re still on the uphill side, take advantage of it. Say yes more often. Make mistakes. Go on trips. Make friends. Do all the things. 

And if you’ve reached the top, take advantage of it. Say yes more often. Make mistakes. Go on trips. Make friends. Do all the things. 

Yes, the advice is the same no matter which side of the hill you’re currently climbing up (or rolling down). 

Buckle up, bitches. We’re coming out of this curve sideways and burning rubber.

Make Childhood Great Again With Saturday Morning Cartoons

~ Author

It’s Saturday. 5:15 am.

When I was young, I’d wake up this early so that I could watch Saturday morning cartoons.

Remember what that felt like?

My little brother and I would huddle right in front of the TV as it sang “One Saturday Morning.”

When the sun started to come up, in the warmer months of the year, it would start to smell like fresh cut grass while we watched. The smell would waft through the screen door.

The neighborhood would slowly wake up. It would start with silence and slowly add a noise at a time. We’d hear birds, then cars, then lawn mowers down the street.

We’d watch for hours, unless we had soccer games, in which case, we’d watch as long as we could waiting around in our little YMCA soccer uniforms.

We didn’t know it at the time, but these were core memories. These were little moments in a heaven we wouldn’t understand until we were adults.

And now, my kids wake up to watch Saturday morning cartoons. Sometimes they watch in their little uniforms while waiting on their games.

I didn’t know that Saturday morning cartoons could be so safe. So necessary. So quintessentially childhood.

But here I am, 5 am, reminiscing over childhood cartoons.

LIKE A REAL GROWNUP.

Now, I’m off to do the games on the back of the cereal box.

The Case for Doing One Thing at a Time

~ Author

I am a serial multitasker.

I’m always trying to do a million things at once. I’ll give you some examples.

My kids are in a hybrid school, which means they go to school half the time and the other half, they’re doing their work at home. On any given “home day,” I may be doing all of the following at one time:

  • Helping the children with school
  • Helping my youngest, who is not yet old enough for school
  • Working on a draft or two for work
  • Planning for the days that I teach school
  • Contacting soccer parents because I am a volunteer coach
  • Planning a children’s play because I am a volunteer director
  • Trying (and failing) to keep up with the house

This, in no way, includes me time or time with my spouse or even the constant checking of my phone. And then I wonder things like: Why do I feel so anxious? Why can’t I sleep? Why am I unhappy?

Well golly gee, I freaking wonder why….

Honestly, many of you are probably the exact same way. I’d bet money on it.

But I guess, the older I get, the more I wonder: Why the hell do we do this? And more importantly: Can we just stop already?

The first question is easy, at least for me. I do this to myself because I feel inadequate. And so, I try to cram my time with things that I hope make my family successful and happy. And also, I have a very hard time saying no. But that’s a discussion for another day.

I feel bad, so I try harder. And when I try harder, I feel bad. It’s a very ugly cycle.

The second question is harder. Can we just stop already? I think the answer is yes. And even more pressing, I think stopping this already is perhaps the way to a more fulfilled life. We are so very distracted. All the time.

According to Brown University, multitasking increases stress, raises blood pressure, and increases our heart rate. There’s a very long article that I’ve linked above that goes into the details. But the short of it is that multitasking makes us unhealthy.

And yet, here we are. Checking messages, typing reports, schooling children, making plans, and blah, blah, blah.

I’m going to be very honest with you right now: I’ve been working hard to change this about myself. I fail. Often. But I’m also getting better. I’m going to tell you what I’ve been doing in hopes that it might help you, but the very dirty and honest truth is that it’s a switch in the brain. If you’re not ready, it won’t work. But I’ll tell you anyway:

  • I started shedding things that caused me worry. I don’t actually want to do all of the things that I’m currently doing, so I have been shedding them one by one. It’s a process. A long one. But I do think it’s working.
  • I started delegating. My kids are old enough to do some of their homework on their own, and they’re old enough to help with the home.
  • I set goals. I have big goals that I won’t discuss here, but narrowing down my intent has helped so much.

The most important change? I just wanted to change so damn bad that I was willing to try anything. I hit rock bottom, emotionally, so to speak. And that’s the real change.

If you haven’t hit rock bottom (and I hope you haven’t), maybe the things I’m trying will help you. I don’t think we were meant to be distracted all day. I think if we’re working, we should work. If we’re cooking, we should cook. Etc, etc. And yes, of course I know that this isn’t always possible, but good grief, it must be possible sometimes. Right??

I’m going with yes, because any other answer leads to more misery.

And because I’m a hopeful person. Sometimes. When I’m not being pessimistic.

Anywho… One thing at a time. Good luck.

Addiction in Your Pocket

~ Author

I miss when phones were attached to the wall, but people were free…

Remember what it felt like to answer the phone and ask, “Is so-and-so home?” We don’t have to do that anymore. We just send a text or some other form of instant communication, and BOOM. We’re done.

No more sitting in one place to talk. No more missing a phone call. No more twirling the cord on your fingers. No more satisfying sound of the numbers turning.

No more freedom.

No more disconnecting.

No more putting the phone down.

How sad is that?

Let’s connect the phones and disconnect the people again.

Here’s One Small Tip for Getting Offline (And It’s Embarrassingly Hard)

~ Author

I am sick of being constantly online. Sick of it. I love my stupid phone, and I hate my stupid phone. And I know that my phone is making me miserable, and I’m addicted to it.

You’re probably addicted, too, if we’re all being honest.

And so, I’m trying to change. Deliberately.

When I finally decided to live life just a little less online, the first thing I had to do was figure out HOW. Everything is online. Everything.

I knew that cutting technology cold turkey wasn’t going to be successful. I’d lose access to everything important. I wouldn’t hear updates about school and my kids’ activities. I wouldn’t even be able to look for work. Where was I going to look for new gigs? The newspaper? The newspaper doesn’t even exist in my town anymore.

And to be clear, it wasn’t technology that was the problem anyway. It was the constant connectivity. Social media, constant internet. You know all too well…

So, of course, I flailed for a few days trying to figure it out. Anything that I tried, I either quit immediately, or it didn’t have the impact I was hoping for.

Finally, I tried this one thing. And it gave me the tiniest push forward. Just enough to keep me going.

Ready for the magic? I didn’t reach for my phone first thing in the morning.

I know, groundbreaking, am I right? It’s so simple, but so damn hard to do.

I started as small as I could. When my phone’s alarm went off, I turned it off, checked the time, and put it back down.

I didn’t allow any scrolling. I didn’t open social media. I didn’t read emails or the news. I turned off the alarm and set the phone back down.

In an extremely embarrassing admission, this one thing was really hard.

But I’m not alone. Over 44% of Americans report reaching for their phone AND SCROLLING within ten minutes of waking up. Approximately 80% check their phones within 15 minutes of waking.

I don’t know about you, but those statistics make me sad.

And when I tried this little endeavor, I found that changing the statistics wouldn’t be easy, especially on a large scale.

For me, I was constantly opening social media first thing in the morning only to close it again. I would find myself mindlessly scrolling and then remind myself of the deal. It was an addiction, a habit that was far more ingrained than I liked to admit.

But I kept at it. I still have to “keep at it,” because it’s such a part of what we do.

You might be wondering, what the heck do you do instead? I’ll tell you:

  • I read a book for a few minutes.
  • I do a word search (Mine is Snoopy themed!).
  • I work on a crossword puzzle.
  • I journal in a prayer journal/gratitude journal.
  • I write a page of streaming consciousness.
  • I sit in my rocking chair with a hot cup of coffee.

And to my surprise, these things are extremely satisfying. They wake me up, but much more quietly and calmly than my phone. I don’t feel as stressed or as stimulated. It’s still hard sometimes, but it’s more than worth it.

And research backs this up. Early morning scrolling reduces productivity and builds feelings of negativity. We’re literally starting our days off on the wrong foot — every single day. Because of phone addiction.

Insane.

But you can change it, and I highly encourage you to try.

Take one step: Don’t use the phone first thing in the morning.

It’s hard. It’s worth it. Good luck.

Bring the Color Back to Birthdays

~ Author

What’s happened to kid birthday parties?

I’ll tell you — social media, that’s what’s happened. Suddenly, kids’ birthday parties have to be HUGE. And beige. You have to have giant beige birthday parties that cost a gazillion dollars.

Is anyone else sick of that nonsense? Because I certainly am.

Kids’ birthday parties used to have character. They used to have normal themes. They used to look like the kids actually chose what they wanted instead of the parents. They used to be at skating rinks and bowling alleys and parks. Or just at home. A normal sized home.

Now? They look curated. Perfect. Like a photo op.

Remember when birthday parties were all homemade cakes and paper plates? Remember when parties didn’t have to look like you hired a party planner? Remember when you didn’t have to style every picture, make it picture perfect for social media? Remember when all you got were a few shots between the fun?

I remember.

And just in case you need to hear it, social media is a lie.

Make the homemade cake. Let your kid pick the theme. Use all of the colors. Get the awesome pictures, but the rest of it? Nonsense.

Birthdays were better before social media, just like life.

Here’s your permission to opt out.