Category Archives: Honesty

No slave to the ordinary or the play it safers


The blog post below is written by a friend, I want to share it because I feel that it’s so important to tell not only our own stories, but to also pass on those of others. It’s what connects us.

“After nourishment, shelter and companionship, stories are the thing we need most in the world.” ~ Philip Pullman

“There is no greater agony than bearing an untold story inside you.” ~ Maya Angelou


Shauna Kai


A friend put up a link to’ Positive Writer’ on Facebook. Wow! I highly recommend checking out this website and his writing advice. I would not even cap it at writing advice, it seemed it was a lense of a way to process life and is extremely motivational.

His writing advice about blogging was to be specific about your blog and to let readers know what your blog is about and what to expect from your blog. This is ,if you want to build an audience of readers that commit to your blog.

He is writing from a perspective of  failure,  which is where growth seems to seed, that is his point. This writer experienced a failed blog of randomness for it’s content.  I find myself guilty of that randomness on my blog. He discovered and encourages being specific about what you are writing about, a genre or theme.


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I am a Jelly-Filled Donut

On my 18th birthday, I celebrated by getting my first tattoo. Because I was 18 and I could. I wasn’t exactly full of good decisions back then. Really, I’m not much better at them now.

Everyone warned me, “Make sure to get something that you won’t hate in 20 years!” Yeah, yeah.

I gave the design a full 30-seconds worth of thought and chose an arm band with a Chinese character.

This makes me laugh…












I chose shòu, which translates as “longevity,” along with a bat symbolizing prosperity and a butterfly symbolizing happiness.

I figured in 20-30 years I ought to be able to appreciate a tattoo that means long life, prosperity, and happiness and I proudly showed it off for many years.

About a decade later, around 28 years old, I was sitting at my desk at my corporate job, and noticed a co-worker staring at my arm with her head kind of half-cocked and a contemplative look on her face.

I typically didn’t allow my tattoo to show at work, choosing instead to wear sleeves that covered my upper arm, but on this particular day it was oh-my-god-kill-me-hot outside and dress code allowed us to wear tank-tops with a 3-finger width sleeve.

She saw me notice her looking at it and asked me, “What does your tattoo mean?”

I panicked. I knew this particular employee fairly well, well enough to know that she was fluent in Mandarin Chinese.

I winced and asked, “You don’t know?” She gave me a sympathetic smile and shook her head.


I explained to her that it was supposed to be the character, shòu. She stared at me blankly.

“For longevity?” I clarified, questioningly.

“Oooh!” She said, now understanding and correcting my pronunciation (I’d totally butchered it).

Then she just said, “Huh.”

My heart fluttered then sank. “Is that not what it says!?” I asked her.

“Not exactly,” she said, still trying to be so very polite about it.

Crap. For 10 years I’d been walking around like an idiot with a tattoo on my arm that says who knows what!?

She came over and sat closer to get a better look at it and said, “Okay, I can kind of see it.” It’s not the simplified or common use of shòu, she explained. It’s the traditional or more ancient version and it’s not done exactly right.

“Does it say something else?” I asked fearfully.

“Nope, nothing at all.” She said.

It’s now been 20 years since I had that tattoo done, my arm band of Chinese gibberish.

I don’t hate it exactly. It gives me a funny story to tell and at least it doesn’t say “fart bubble” or something terrible. Or, if it does, my co-worker was much too kind to tell me.


Lazy days

As much as I try to provide an enriching environment for my kids, some days just look like this…













…it’s 2pm, they’re still in their pajamas, and they’ve been playing Minecraft for hours.


The First Moments of Motherhood


It’s “Sincere Snapshot Saturday” – it’s not really a thing, but it is for me! I’d like to start sharing a picture or few on occasional Saturdays.

But not the filtered, perfectly posed, not really reflective of my life (because as beautiful as my life may be it looks nothing like a Pottery Barn catalog) ones. I’ll be sharing the other ones, the real and honest ones.

In honor of Mother’s Day, here are some pics from my very first moments as a mother – I don’t typically share these because it still hurts to look at them, but they also bring me tremendous joy because I am so grateful and honored to have this sweet boy in my life and to know that he has grown into an amazing and wonderful 9 year old who fills in all the color to my world.

The moment a child is born, the mother is also born. She never existed before. The woman existed, but the mother, never. A mother is something absolutely new“. ~Rajneesh


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