You know those Facebook Memories things that pop up on your phone? How do you feel about those? I mostly love them, but sometimes I don't.  I guess that's how it is with memories! Today, this one appeared, from 2 years ago: "It's ok to not be good at stuff.  See this coat here? I'm not good at taking things to be dry cleaned. Ever. I've had this coat for 14 years--wore it all over the Italian trains on my honeymoon--it's never once been washed. Maybe that's partly because I'm not good at not being sentimental? Other things I'm not good at: *Making Hosea sleep in his own bed *Noticing when my children's nails need to be trimmed *Letting things go *Taking out the recycling before it's overflowing everywhere *Putting effort into cooking *Pretending I care when my girls tell me about the next level they've gotten to in this weird game they play on my phone *Cleaning my shower *With-holding judgement and expectations *S...

Yesterday was a beautiful day for a bike ride to band practice. I always enjoy the route along the seawall, especially in the sunshine. After practice I waffled back and forth about whether or not to run any errands. I kind of wanted to keep the day free from that kind of thing. But I also knew that if I stopped and got a few things then it'd take the load off me for Monday. Mondays are the only day I don't have to pick the kids up from school, so when I get home from work I can do some singing! Or whatever else. And really relax the way you can do when you don't have any kids around. (It's a real thing!) But I decided to run the errands anyway. Plus I was getting thirsty, and started thinking about Kombucha (my new favourite!)...and how I'd want to eat ice cream later on.  Oh, and how we needed toilet paper at home. So I stopped at the store. While in the store I did what often happens in the store, and I forgot why I REALLY had come in there. My m...

They're not just for women, ok? The whole cycle thing either, ok? There's research. It's like I'm two different people, and I've been warned it only gets worse with age. "Mama, you 39?" "Yes, Hosea, THIRty nine...not FORty nine." "I know, FOR(3)ty nine!" And maybe during this oft-repeated-conversation I'll be completely irritated and exasperated that he's interrupted me again with this question, or maybe I'll be kind of dismissive like I'm really in the middle of DOING something so why THIS question right NOW, or maybe I'll think the question is just so incredibly sweet and it'll make me think of how innocent and tender the whole interaction is and how oh I wish he could just stay this age forever and how oh no he won't and neither will I and how oh no someday I'll miss these kind of moments and how oh no someday he'll be old and grown up and 39 himself  (whoops did I just say 39 is "old...

Do you remember that first time in your life when you actually thought about death? Realized it was a real thing, it would happen to you, it would happen to everyone you know? I remember. I was sitting in my Grandma Hope and Grandpa Harry's dining room, having just finished a meal, and something about our conversation led me to the memorable realization that I would die someday. And the more I thought about it the more I felt like I was just falling into this huge black hole of nothingness, and it was terrifying. So I stopped thinking about it. A friend told me recently something I'd heard before--basically that everything we do in life is to distract us from the fact that we'll die someday. Really? I do a lot of stuff, I keep pretty busy, but I still manage to think about death pretty much every day. Sometimes multiple times a day. Is that normal? ****** My son has been asking me questions about death for the last year or so. Maybe his ah-ha death-moment was mu...

Which thing is harder: singing or writing? I've been thinking about that lately. Posting here takes something out of me that's much different than when I sing. It's something I'm much more conscious of that I have to dig for, when I write. And the flow of it is harder to get lost in than when I sing. But when I sing and make a video I have to get into "that mood". It used to come easy, when I first started, but sometimes these days I have to give myself time to find "that mood". I constantly have ideas for things to write about, and songs to sing. But often those ideas come at times when I can't actually DO anything about them! And then sometimes I forget the idea. Or when it comes back to me (or I actually wrote it down) and I have the time for it I've lost the passion. Or I just don't feel it as much as I had originally. I can't force IT. Or IT won't be that great. IT won't feel authentic. But sometimes I have to force M...

I'm jealous of: people who live in a house people who live in a REALLY old house women with wider shoulders and bigger chests than me anyone who gets to do their art for money on a regular basis anyone who has a book published anyone who has a popular blog  anyone who has a popular youtube channel couples who got married around the time I did and are still married people who get to travel on a regular basis people who live close to their family and have fun together often See, the list isn't THAT long. The list of lacks. If I really dug deep I could find other things, but I don't think it counts if I have to try and DIG for them. The other night I had this idea, as I couldn't fall asleep, and I was thinking about this topic of jealousy that's been on my mind...I thought about just listing the things I'm jealous of. A catchy way to start a post! But also--a freeing activity! Because in it I realized the list was finite. And not nearly as lo...

"You wouldn't believe it, Megan. I was driving along Hastings, off to visit a student, and I saw this huge line outside a building. I thought to myself, 'What venue is that...HERE...of all places? Plus this is a weird time of day for a concert. What are they lining up for?'...and then I saw it, the sign above...it was the safe injection cite." I wasn't surprised. I'd been telling this friend all about a recent walk through that same area, and how I'd had to actually watch my step, because there was so much heroin-ish paraphernalia all over the ground. But still, it broke my heart again to hear about it. We're not that far off, any of us, from waiting in that line. Shocking, I know. And some of you out there might disagree. But all it takes is a few (really) bad decisions. Or...a prescription for something we don't really need. Or...a severe injury that leads to a prescription. Or...a traumatic experience, or multiple traumatic experiences...