Going Solo: Are You Willing To Do THIS Alone In Public?

My husband is still laughing at this. Well, laughing at me. Story goes back to a few years ago when we were dating, snuggled up on the couch watching “Dancing With The Stars.”  He sweetly asked me, “Would you ever want to take ballroom dance lessons?” I thought about it a second and said, “You mean, together?” He still howls at this because, as he points out, how else do you take ballroom dance lessons? Who takes ballroom dance lessons

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Social Media Peer Pressure: I’m Gagging. The Thing I’ll Say That I Bet You’re Thinking

I’m slow. Hopelessly behind. Out of the loop. How about that for some fine negative catty self-talk? I figure it’s not catty, if it’s true. Simply reporting. I don’t have to go far to confirm and reinforce my theory.  It’s a close as my computer. My computer, where years ago I joined Facebook. Facebook, where I post pictures of my life, links that I love, stay connected with “friends,” most of whom I don’t really know. Sounds like a huge

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Your Friend Picker–Three Lessons That Fine Tuned Mine

“How do you pick your friends?” What an awesome question I was thrilled to get recently from a certain young person in my life. Let’s talk “The Picker.” The one that selects the friends you choose to have in your life. My own Picker has been shaped and modified for the better by three wonderful friends over the years. Thank you, Gina, for explaining it all boils down to fruit. “Picking good friends is like walking through the produce aisles

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Cindy Crawford’s Most Beautiful Body Part

Did you see The Photo? Jaws are dropping around the world! It’s a supposedly unaltered photo of Supermodel Cindy Crawford wearing her bra and panties. “Unaltered” as in no Photoshop enhancement to add shading or erase of imperfections. Of course, I had to look. And when I did, I saw two things. One, I was staring at body I’d love to have.  “This is without retouching?” I marveled doing the math wondering how many zillions of stomach crunches it takes

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So, I Broke Up With The ‘What If?’s’

We had a crisis in our house this week. As are most crises with teenagers— This one was astronomical. Huge. Tragic. It involved, Get ready. It’s big. Our daughter losing her cell phone. Yes, I know. International relief funds have been started over tragedies smaller than this. “I think I left it behind at school,” she explained in a panic while using someone else’s phone. “I couldn’t go back and check or I’d miss the bus home.” You can imagine how this crisis

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What’s There To Be Thankful For Anyway?

Some days I struggle with that sign. The one that hangs on the wall just inside our front door. “In Everything Give Thanks” it reads, painted on a simple wood plank. My friend, Dana, gave me that sign about six years ago, a reminder of a time when things weren’t feeling so thank-y around here. A reminder of a time when something that seemed bad at first, turned out to be rather awesome, something indeed to be thankful for. I don’t know

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14 Wishes For My Daughter On Her 16th Birthday

Dearest Daughter, We met when you were 11. I married Daddy when you were 13. The judge made you and me legal with our adoption when you were 14. This parenting gig really does fly by in flash, so before you zoom out the door, on the occasion of your Sweet 16, here are 14 wishes from me to you: 1. I wish that you know how much joy you’ve given your two mothers. Both Mommy in heaven, and now

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Seasonal Confession: What No One Dares To Say This Time of Year, But I Will

Might as well out myself now. What I’m about to confess is totally politically incorrect, against popular thinking, and gasp, even prejudiced. I don’t like Fall. Or Autumn. Or whatever you want to call it. I don’t like it. You, who are giddy about chillier temperatures, start of football, changing leaves. You, who get goosies just thinking about putting on that first turtleneck. You, who feel like slipping into boots instead of flip flops, is like reuniting with an old

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The Tattoo I Never Planned On Getting

I bet you have a tattoo. It’s possible you have not been hanging out in a tattoo parlor wincing as some dude named, “Clyde” etches a skull and bones onto your right bicep. And yet, I bet you have a tattoo. I say this as part of a triple confession. Let’s start with—I don’t like tattoos. Never have seen their charm. Never have looked at someone who had one and thought, “Yep, they look better with that.” It’s possible tattoos

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My Tears Have A Clock Of Their Own; Yours, Too?

“Did you cry?” There you have the number one thing my daughter wanted to know, as she quizzed me like I was a guilty suspect and she was a top detective on CSI. Truth is, I can’t really blame her. As I’ve shared with you Dear Reader, since becoming a parent, I’ve become a crier. If you ask my kids, they will tell you that I cry at the most ridiculous times. I cried when one filled out a form

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