Not Your Average Gal

Copywriter. Content Creator. Constant Sassypants.

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Have You Tried a Hard Restart? A Lesson in Grace.

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I knelt alongside the shards of broken glass now strewn across my kitchen floor when it happened.

That tight wad of stress, knotted in my stomach, suddenly became undone. My brain, clenched in fight-or-flight, finally released its tight grip.

My body said softly to me, “Enough.”

It gently nudged me while I was on my knees, cleaning up this broken jar I accidentally knocked off the kitchen counter.

Enough with this high-alert, survival mode.

You're done.

I cried for a solid 10 minutes that night months ago.

Alone.

In my kitchen.

Sweeping up shards.

Picking up larger pieces of glass.

Putting them in an old Amazon box.

Sweeping again.

Washing the floor.

Then vacuuming.

Picking up every last piece of this metaphor for what keeping it together for nearly 2 years actually looks like.

It was only the second time in the last 20 months that I had cried about the pandemic.

The first of which was alone in my office, 4,500 miles away in Michigan, after my husband came home to tell me he had intubated a patient he didn’t think would live and holding back tears himself, said he didn't want to be the last face she ever saw.

From then on out, I buckled down in survival mode. Bracing myself for the rest of what was to come.

From patients passing away to infants testing positive to those yelling at my husband and the entire department, telling them they are liars and the virus was some giant conspiracy. Screaming in the very place they came to looking for help that uses the very same science they are decrying is a hoax.

You know, also toss in moving across an ocean, buying our first home, a divisive election, a deadly insurrection, sick family members, somehow science now being divisive, trying to avoid getting exposed to the virus yourself with how much your husband is seeing it and then, make new friends when you can’t gather, why dontchya?

Each experience told, I digested.
Sometimes I wrote about it.
Sometimes I vented about it.
But mostly, I carried on.

For 20 months, I've used the tools in my coping toolbox to move forward as much as I could during a global pandemic.

I've run more miles training for my two 10K races this year, with another race coming up, than I ever did training for all my half-marathons. I've read more books in the last two years than the previous 4 years before that. I cook endless new recipes. I talk to my therapist at least every 6 weeks. I Zoom with my girlfriends nearly every Sunday to laugh and cry together. I buckled down, focused on my business more and joined a business monitorship. Updated my website, services and introduced new ones. I kept going.

Kept swimming.

Graciously, it has worked. I was sad for some moments or weeks, but forging along nonetheless. Grateful for this new chapter 4,500 miles away in our gorgeous new hometown. Happy to be healthy, and yet, simultaneously bummed that each morning has begun to feel like Groundhog's Day. The isolation of an island and a new home has felt heavier and heavier with each new surge.

And then last month, after an upsetting event that in the end turned out to be okay, my body alerted me to stop during an annoying, but surely non-life threatening moment.

During the throes of this unsettling situation, I accidentally knocked off a jar on the kitchen counter while trying to move too quickly from task to task.

That's when it happened.

All alone and amongst the backdrop of broken glass now sprawled out on my kitchen floor…I yelled, “Fuuuuuuuuuuuuck!”

I stared in momentary silence.

Then cried.

I quietly cried alone in my kitchen, as broken as the glass at my feet.

In the days and weeks that followed, I felt like this hormonal shell of a human being just weeping at anything remotely touching. I actively tried to hold back the tears even in the most mundane of moments. My husband was sad about how sad I suddenly was. I couldn't control the emotions the way I had for the past 20 months.

I felt like my body was working against me, like it had given up on me.

But the proverbial pandemic cork had popped. 20 months of hard-fought, high-alert survival mode had come to an end.

My body wasn't giving up—it was trying to keep me together by telling me to freakin' stop.

Enough, Caroline.

We weren't built for this. None of us were.

Enough.

“Have you tried a hard restart?”

Much like IT tells you after you’ve exhausted all other options to get your operating system up and running. I knew I needed a hard restart.

Having known the effort it takes to claw your way out of the well of depression, I knew I needed to get back to basics to prevent it. I didn't want to stare at the edge of what could become a spiral; I knew I needed to offer myself grace, kindness.

I wanted to take care of me.

(Heck it only took close to 40 years for me to figure that out.)

The basics meant this:

Take care of my needs vs. my wants.
Body first. Above all else.

I may want to stay up watching TikToks, but my body needs legitimate rest. I may want to skip breakfast because the thought of making it overwhelms me, but I need and deserve nourishment. I may want to hit snooze and avoid my day, but my body needs the first early morning hours to take care of myself (meditate, eat, stretch, listen to affirmations, etc.).

Back to basics.

From there, I found resilient relief in other areas of my life.

I don't need to respond to every text.
I don't need to check my email first thing in the morning.
I don't need to be on social media right now.
I don't need to be productive to be worthy.

(That last one is tough. But, I'm working on it.)

The irony is, the less pressure I put on myself to be productive, the more I accomplished. I've been able to focus better on the things that matter to me.

Creativity.
My business.
Friends and family.
Travel.

So often I've worried that my tough times were a burden to others. I'm happily the safe space people use or lean on. But this time, I needed them. This time, I needed to be confident that the way I was taking care of myself wouldn't affect relationships. I needed to trust my own damn needs. I needed time. I needed some space. I needed to not be a rock for others when that's exactly what I was looking for from them. I need to trust and lean into that support system I have. I needed to trust and lean into knowing what I needed for myself.

Which was something different for me.

Knowing that my response, lack of response, lack of checking in or setting a boundary to take care of myself temporarily may not be what loved ones were looking for from me.

And I had to be okay with that, even if they weren't.

Radical self-love isn't a linear journey, pals.

It's exhausting, in fact.

The type of internal work that needs to be done isn't as simple as checking off the To-Do's on your list. It's the deep work. The unlearning work. The type of work your ancestors would be proud of for stopping the cycle of generational trauma in its tracks.

It’s also the kind of work that we can't brag about. We don't get to seek validation for it like we do with sharing or posting the perfect day or scene or family or couple or whatever. As much as I've talked about the benefits of therapy and taking care of my mental health, more than most really, it's not exactly light conversations.

It's not the kind of chit-chat or banter that occurs over brunch. (As much as I believe it can be and connect so much more with people who are vulnerable.) It can be heavy stuff in a world that already feels so heavy.

It's the slog rebuttal to the chirpy, “This is fine. Everything is fine.”

It's the hidden work. The heavy work. The undoing. The kind of work where you ask why you think the way you do because evolving as humans means unlearning the shit we've believed.

Why you believe you're unworthy.
Why you seek external validation for your productivity.
Why your mind races a million miles a minute.
Why you can't seem to be proud of yourself.
Why you forgive others so gracefully, but rarely do it for yourself.
Why it took a shattered jar on your kitchen floor one evening for you to listen to your body telling you it couldn't carry on like this any more.

A Time for Grace.

Something categorically changed in me for the better during this quiet time of these past months.

I allowed myself to take a hot second and acknowledge what a wreck this year has been. To really feel it. (That doesn't mean it wasn't a great year in some aspects too. They can coexist.)

This isn't the hardship Olympics either!

I'm exhausted with people comparing how bad they may have it compared to someone else.

This isn't a time to remind someone that you're going through something too. Anyone with an ounce of compassion knows that already based on the current state of the world.

You don't need a reason more legitimate than someone else's to be exhausted. This pandemic is a collective trauma for all of us. Whether others are willing to acknowledge that or not, well, that isn't my responsibility.

For healthcare workers and their families, it has been a mental battle to stay afloat and not just drift out into an endless sea of apathy.

Gosh, it all feels so heavy.

Everyone is in the thick of it.

The person who cut you off. The person who snapped at you. The person who ghosted you. The person who snickered at your misfortune. The person who blocked or deleted you.

It's not up to me to figure out.

But guess what? It's not up to you either.

Past Blog: Courageous work is full of critics.⁠

When I trust that people are doing the best they can, that frees up a lot of headspace and energy for kinder pursuits.

When I know that stepping back sometimes means peacing-out, I don't take it personally.

When I sincerely hope a person is doing well regardless if they've been nasty to me behind my back; when I offer them grace, it allows me to give it to myself too.

For everything. For the lack of energy. For the way I would have done things differently. For taking a hot minute to myself and getting back to basics.

Everything.

A hard restart.

A time for grace.

Even if it's for you.

Especially if it’s for you.

The Hawaii Life: One Year in

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It’s beyond hard to believe we moved to Hawaii over a year ago.

One year of gentle waves, coqui frogs, mild (and not-so-mild) earthquakes, a volcanic eruption and, you know, adjusting to life 4,500 miles away from our former home, in the middle of a pandemic—one that your husband is on the frontlines of—and also, just for funzies, toss in buying your first home.

Whew. 

Did you get all of that?

It honestly feels like we just moved yesterday.

I remember exactly what I wore for our 3 long flights, how I packed precisely for ginger kitty to make his Trans-Pacific flight with us and the simultaneous heaviness of saying goodbye, mixed in with pure excitement for the adventures ahead. 

Read more: COVID Travel: Flying During a Pandemic

Many lessons have been learned in this year around the sun. 

I shall indulge you now.

Take your time. Hurry up.

When we landed, we immediately started our 14-day quarantine. This sort of quarantine doesn’t exist now that COVID tests are readily available. But when we moved, we needed to sign legal paperwork when we landed that we wouldn’t leave our home for 14 days in order to prevent the spread of COVID. This isn’t isolation as most people think. This was a stay-at-home order that meant my daily walk to the (empty) mailbox was the most exciting part of our quarantine.

As evidence in my Instagram Stories.

We were not allowed to leave our property for 14 days.

Day 13 of Quarantine.
Up where there walk.
Up where they run.
Up where they play all day in the sun.
Wanderin’ free – wish I could be
Part of that world…

Island time is a very real thing here and when we did get out of quarantine, we found that need to settle into slowing down. Things have happened painfully slow at times.

Getting our DMV appointments, updating car insurance, getting a response to most anything if we had a question about policies or paperwork.

The thing is, it always worked out. Just more slowly than my mainlander heart was used to. Perhaps it’s a gentle nudge that…it always works out how it’s supposed to.

COVID connections

About 2 weeks after we got out of quarantine, Hawaii hit some of their highest COVID numbers still to date (until this past week unfortunately…) and in response, virtually, completely shut down. State parks, beaches, restaurants, most smaller retailers. All closed. We briefly saw our beautiful new hometown a bit before things closed again. We had just gone through nearly 6 months of that in Michigan, so we were as used to it as we could be by then.

Read More: 9 People Share Their Daily Pandemic Schedules

In the brief two weeks we were able to roam socially distanced, we met some of my husband’s colleagues at an outdoor get together for the two new docs that started. I remember how nervous I was because meeting new people is nerve-wracking enough, but doing it during social distancing times felt extra odd. 

*waves at a distance* 

*shouts*

HELLO! NICE TO MEET YOU! I’M CAROLINE. I’M NEW HERE.

We had just gone through some of the toughest moments of our lives in Michigan. The heaviness of the silent hugs my husband gave in our living room after intubating patient after patient will never, ever leave me. Especially when meeting new people. Especially after what we saw and went through. We wouldn’t wish that on anyone.

My suspicion about our stand-off-ish-ness at that employee welcome gathering was confirmed just recently in recounting that day. I was told they got it after Hawaii shut down. It made sense. We had already seen what they were hopefully trying to prevent by shutting down and knew we were socially distant as a precaution. 

But what happened was those kind connections I made, were put to the side for months and months as we all buckled down trying to prevent a surge on a small island in the middle of the Pacific.

What people don’t understand and my husband can talk about until he’s blue in the face, is that the small Hawaii COVID numbers don’t tell you the full story. Those numbers have to stay low. We’re limited in terms of how we could respond in even a slight surge. From the distance to the next major hospitals to resources to equipment to ICU beds to even healthcare workers. A surge here would be catastrophic. So even a small increase (or relatively low numbers in comparison to the mainland) is cause for concern. 

So, I did what I knew: settled into my work, found some new books to read, started running more consistently again and remained in contact with those close to me on the mainland until things started opening up again by the end of 2020. 

Read More: I Will No Longer Bond over Hating Our Bodies.

Our experience moving here in June of 2020 verses those who moved here even in the fall of 2020 are vastly different. They didn’t have to quarantine (with a negative COVID test) and things had relatively started opening back up a small amount as tourists were once again let in. We saw the beauty and splendor of our new home and then—BAM!

I joke with my husband that people who have moved here after us seem to have more friends. That’s partly to do with timing and also with us as well.  We didn’t feel totally comfortable until we were both partially or fully vaccinated especially because of his line of work. “My husband had another COVID case yesterday, wanna go hang out?” 

Volcanoes and earthquakes-Oh my!

2020 went out with a literal bang. Mt. KÄ«lauea erupted on the evening of December 20, 2020. We felt the initial earthquake in our living room. Did you know Hawaii has hundreds of earthquakes a year? Many aren’t noticeable. But there are some that make you think you’ve had a few too many margaritas as the world sways for a moment.

After we felt the earth shake for a bit, the hubster went to bed so his night-owl wife could watch some trash reality TV and about 20 minutes later he rushed back in to tell me the earthquake was because a volcano erupted.

Of course, we were meant to be driving past Volcanoes National Park where it was erupting the very next morning. OF COURSE. The hubster does some 24-hr calls at a hospital near that region every once and a while. 

I’ll tag along because their team has at a condo which is close to a beautiful black sand beach. It’s been a nice break from the monotony of staying home and working. I just set up shop in a different location. 

Like the mainlanders we are, we imagined lava spewing onto the roads, road closures, mass chaos and a bum rush to the hospitals. PLOT TWIST: None of that happened. We made our way down past the erupting volcano and were just gobsmacked by the power. Just the steam coming up from the park was incredible. And we were seeing this from the road! 

We went to visit KÄ«lauea during the day afterwards and found many gifts alongside the rim meant for Pele, the goddess of volcanoes, fire, and lightning. Weeks later we went to visit the beauty at night and it’s a scene I’ll never forget.

In so many instances while living here, I’m gently (or abruptly in this instance) reminded of my own naive, preconceived notions of the world. Something as seemingly scary as a volcano erupting is a sacred reminder of the land forever changing, moving and adding molten lava to this earth; telling us we are never in control, to respect the ‘aina (land).

Things aren't as expensive …except sometimes they are

The hubster and I have found that when people didn't know what to say about us moving to Hawaii, they usually made negative remarks about it. 

It's so far.

It's so expensive.

Why would you leave 9 months of grey and 3 months of cold and another 3 months of bitter cold?

So, let's dive in.

Yes, it's far. If you live on the mainland.

But a little perspective shift: it's closer for us to travel to Asia and Australia & New Zealand. It's really only an hour longer flight for us to get to the west coast from where we lived in Michigan and it's actually the same length flight from where we lived in Florida to get to the west coast. So there!

Next, the cost of living. It is a fair point, but it's not as expensive as we anticipated. 

I say this with an abundance of love and respect: it's expensive everywhere now, so examine the place you live before making wild rationalizations. By the time we moved back to Michigan for residency, it ended up being so much more expensive for groceries than it was when we lived in Florida for med school. I’m talking at least double the grocery bills. Florida and Michigan housing prices are giving anyone a run for their money right now too. 

We shipped my car and donated his before we left. (That ol' Pontiac G6 got us through med school and residency and eventually sounded like a jet engine every time it started.) So we were a bit surprised by prices the day we got out of quarantine to buy his new truck. They were about 10-15% more expensive than the mainland.

Gas is comparable to prices on the west coast, often less. Property taxes are much lower here. Income tax is higher here. Electricity is the same here for us and even better because we have solar. Plus, we have no A/C or heat so that can save us. Groceries can end up being about 15-20% more expensive depending what you buy. Anything canned and/or processed are higher costs. I even saw a spice in the spice aisle for $14/bottle. Meat can be more expensive, though we've offset that with Costco runs or buying local. Plus, we've countered costs with the bountiful (and cheap) farmers markets. Going out is similar to South Florida prices, so we aren't shocked much. Activities we love are free: hiking, swimming, running, hopefully SUP and kayaking someday soon.

We've found, ultimately, costs do tend to balance out. Some things are more expensive, some things are surprisingly less. If you live a life very dependent on everyday luxuries (oh how I miss just running to Costco for a quick 15 minute trip, rather than it being half of my day) then yes, it will be more expensive. If you're open to being flexible, the costs pan out. 

Aloha kindness

Prior to moving back to Michigan, I posted on a Facebook group for the city we were going to live inquiring about houses to rent as we weren't finding any online. Funny enough, we found the home we rented because of that friendly group.  

I did the same prior to moving to Hawaii, found a local group and posted some questions about moving there: What would you recommend keeping? What would you recommend we bring? Anything you'd like me to bring you from the mainland?

I was smacked in the face with questions about why the hell we were moving there. I was told to stay back in Michigan. Honestly? Truth be told, rightfully so. I should have done my due diligence and been more educated about COVID numbers, as well as the complex issues surrounding people moving here. 

Once I explained we both had jobs (some people move here without jobs and treat the ‘aina and ohana disrespectfully) and my husband was a physician, it seemed to warm the room a bit more. Doctors are needed here as many don't stay long due to many factors including resources, an overburdened system and sometimes missing their families back on the mainland.

What I was also naive about at the time is the deep-rooted, truthful history of Hawaii that I didn’t learn in school. It’s absolutely without a doubt my job to educate myself on the Kingdom of Hawaii; the culture, people and very valid fears they have of people who look like me when we come here.

As things open up more, I’m ready to immerse myself in that education. As I’ve stated previously, the best advice I ever got in all my advocacy work is simply this: shut up, sit back and listen. I’ve learned so much since being here by doing just that.

But, whew. That Facebook post was quite the reality check. Maybe the Aloha spirit is a thing reserved for tourists?

I found out quickly it wasn't. 

A woman saw my post on Facebook and reached out to me mentioning her husband was a doctor too. Turns out, we met him while interviewing and he actually works with my huband! The first day we landed, without a way to return our rental car (we weren't allowed to Uber to get us to our new rental home because of COVID restrictions), they showed up on our doorstep, N95 masks and all, asked for the keys and returned it without hesitation. They even brought us alcohol. ALOOOOOOHA indeed.

She's now my pal that comes around to pick fruit off our trees to bake tasty treats or brew beer and funny enough, they live down the road from our new home.

Through the power of Instagram, I also met one of the kindest people in the world. I started following Living Hilo Style before we even moved because HELLO, she posts a lot about the delicious food in our new home. 

We started chatting via DM and she offered the best recommendations for restaurants, delivery, parks to hang out at and even a bakery to get the hubster's birthday pie. When I saw she was volunteering at vaccine clinics, something I wanted to do but was told I needed a medical background, I asked if they needed more volunteers and they did! So we got to meet in person, where she's introduced me to—hand to heart—some of the best people. I've had so many laughs at the clinics and met so many wonderful people in our community that it really reminded me why an introvert like me can benefit from meeting wonderful people.

The Aloha spirit is indeed alive and well.

As I sit out on our back lanai (that’s what we call our back deck now, you know?) listening to the birds chip and the sun peek through palm trees (oh my god we have palm trees!), I’m having another pinch me moment.

My forever work buddy (and laziest intern alive) enjoys his new view too.

They happen quite often here.

So many times the hubster and I will be driving, sitting silently and peering out the window at our beautiful town, until one of us says, “Can you believe we live here?”

“No, I can’t.”

I’m just so damn grateful that we do.

Here’s to many more pinch me moments.

Talking Story: The Art of Storytelling

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I used to perform commercials in the mirror as a kid. Usually during my bedtime routine and usually to the annoyance of one of my parents. Perhaps as an act to avoid bedtime? Who? Me? Who knows. 

“Brushing your teeth can help make them sparkly. Plus, your dentist will be happy with you.”

“Did you know singing your ABCs while washing your hands makes sure they are clean?”

“You're not fully clean unless you're Zest-fully clean.”*insert elder Millennial advertisement reference here*

My creative shenanigans continued into Tween-dom where I'd write scripts for different plays and my siblings or childhood friends would then perform outside in our backyard. Many were hysterical performances that would surely have been worthy of an Oscar in screenwriting if memory serves me correctly.

In high school and college, short stories, speeches and even essays were one of the better ways for me to properly and effectively express myself. It often felt like leaving a paper trail of my heart's sentiments for any one who wanted to read. 

This very website started as a way for me to show my demo reel and the videos I produced once I finished broadcasting school. (It was originally named Caroline Made This as any of the OG readers will remember.) As it always does, writing and storytelling pulled me enough to add the Blog tab to my website and, as fate would have it, that's how many of you found me here. 

Including my previous job!

After over a decade in advertising and now with a newly minted video broadcasting diploma under my belt, I was offered a copywriting job partly based on my writing skills from this very website. 

A job that took me from a copywriter to senior copywriter to running a department and then leaving to start my own business.

From my writing.

From my storytelling.

It seems the art of storytelling has been etched in my soul for a lifetime.

We flew to Hawaii in January of 2020 so the hubster could interview for a position that he was eventually offered here. 

Yes, right before the entire world shut down. 

Our first few days were a whirlwind. We had interviews in 3 different hospitals across the island. (Yes, they asked spouses to come along for them because ultimately, the spouses are the reason why most doctor families will leave Hawaii. They want to make sure we're happy too. We get interviewed too. NO PRESSURE!) Then a real estate agent showed us around different areas. Then we drove around to check out what we could. Usually by the time we got back to the hotel, we were wiped out, sinking our heavy heads into the pillows, considering how one major decision will set off a domino effect for the rest of our lives. 

When we finally had a day off to digest things and sit down, we decided to head to a famous local fish market that was down the road from our hotel that I had read about. After we picked up our poke, we went outside to find a table to sit. It was a busy hour so the tables were all occupied. 

The hubster and I were just about to say, let's go eat it back at the hotel before we heard a voice say,“Hey, there's room here.”  

We saw an older gentleman gesture to two empty seats at his table. He had been speaking with a lady at a table next to him, so I assumed that he knew her and he would move his seat next to her once we sat down.

As we both sat down and opened up our poke to examine it's local deliciousness, the man asked us which kind we got. He told us the one he was eating he watched come straight off the boat this morning and then laughed.

He continued talking to the woman at the next table until she got up and said goodbye, offering him a kind smile while saying, “It was nice to talk story with you. Maybe I'll see you next time.”

He immediately turned back to us and started chatting.

Wait. He didn't know her?

They just talked and then he offered us a seat at his table?

I was immediately brought back to my time in Bangkok or Hong Kong or London or Tokyo, where you make your way to an empty spot at a table and just order your drinks, even if you don't know the people seated next to you.

“This place is awesome,”I thought.

He continued to chat with us about fishing and asked why we were in town. We told him we were considering moving here and he didn't blink. Just chatted about the weather and warm waves. 

He calmly left when he was finished with his food, wishing us a good stay, telling us he hoped we'd enjoy his hometown.

Even as friendly Midwesterners, the hubster and I generally keep to ourselves when traveling. Sure, we're friendly, but our overall feeling is we're visitors; it's best to remain observant of cultures, traditions, behaviors and then proceed with caution, often only when asked or invited.

Being in Hawaii felt like a scene out of the Truman Show. Everyone offered a kind smile and talked story with us. Would we hit the end of the ocean on our way home and find out this was a TV set all along? 

I can happily attest that didn't happen.

In fact, we moved to this wonderful place!

A place that, now, when people come over to our home, they talk story with us in our hallway by the front door before leaving.

It's not small talk either.

You know, the kind of small talk that makes introverts' skin crawl. That kind of chatter is just filled with the everyday pleasantries of how they are doing or what the weather is like.

Nope, not talking story.

While talking story can still be quick conversations, I've enjoyed them so much more than the small talk of brushing shoulders with an acquaintance in the moment.

Talking story in our hallway has become part of our home. From the painter telling us how many grandchildren he was excited to see later that week, to a contractor sharing his tips for adjusting to the move here and then our neighbor gently teaching us how to pronounce the names of crossroads we live at while explaining who they were named after and how important they are here.

It’s not too intrusive.

It’s just the right amount of genuine interest.

It’s a sincere connection.

Talking story is a gentle kindness.

It’s the sort of storytelling this world needs. 

Mean Doesn’t Win.

By

In my happy place: London with an iced coffee.

“All I ask is one thing, and I’m asking this particularly of young people that watch: Please do not be cynical. I hate cynicism. For the record, it’s my least favorite quality — it doesn’t lead anywhere. Nobody in life gets exactly what they thought they were going to get. But if you work really hard and you’re kind, amazing things will happen. I’m telling you, amazing things will happen.”

– Conan O’brien during his last show

I realize this quote is probably a pop culture phenomenon now, but it has been sitting on my desk since the moment I decided to leave Corporate America and start my own business.

It sticks with me for many reasons, but the real heart-tugger portion is more about not getting exactly what you thought they were going to get.

For those that aren’t Conan fans, this was the last few lines he spoke on his very last, short lived tenure at the “Tonight Show.” It couldn’t have been an easy night for him. He had chosen to step down from his dream job as host when NBC decided to change the timeslot to make room for a Jay Leno program—a move that many fans, including Conan, thought would ruin the show.

He still spoke eloquently about his very valid disappointment, but left with his head held high. He wouldn’t let this hand of cards turn him into a miserable, cynical turd. Something that easily happens to each one of us, including myself.

I’ve experienced both sides of this: watching miserable people continue their tedious tirade of convincing everyone this world is awful and also being so deep in negativity myself that I catch myself thinking the absolute worst of people.

As women, we’re taught, from a young age to need to fight to be heard, noticed and given credit where credit is due in office settings. I’ve certainly seen a shift over the years, but it’s still not great. We still need to wave our hands and demand to take up the space we deserve. Often this creates unnecessary, internal catty competition; sometimes seeped in jealousy.

While in the midst of a full-on mean girls campaign at the expense of my name and reputation in an office many moons ago, I had to work hard at reminding myself that miserable souls do miserable things. I had to remind myself that the truth eventually shows itself, even if it takes months or years. I’m talking, deep-dive meditation, writing in my journal, hitting the dammit doll on the desk and not punching people in the face kind-of-hard-work.

Background: In what felt like the blink of an eye, kind connections and conversations, turned into keyboards furiously tapping when I walked in, messages minimized when I walked by and the distinct feeling that I was being actively iced out and made fun of. (My suspicions were later confirmed by other coworkers who eventually left the company as well.)

Eye rolls. Critical information withheld. Inaccurate information provided. Lies told to superiors.

It was awful.

Don’t be fooled into thinking I did nothing and sat idly by. I did stick up for myself at one point and stood up to one of the office bullies to remind her I knew of her shenanigans. I talked to management. I asked for help. I kept records and notes.

But, in the meantime, I kept my head down. Did the work.

Flew to NYC to pitch Louis Vuitton. Kept my head down more. Did the work some more.

Saved every penny we could. Kept my head down more. Did the work some more.

Won an international client and got zero credit for it. Continued to keep my head down. Worked. Focused on those in the office that collaborated well.

Maintained awesome connections with talented, creative souls in the office (even to this day). Worked some more. Saved some more. Kept my head down still.

One of my close girlfriends reminded me to “enjoy the jealousy,” walk in with my head held high and happily wave in their direction; knowing full well they would think I was dumb for seemingly not knowing what was going on, but knowing in my heart they are the sad ones instead. (Oh if it were only that easy.)

You know what’s saddest of all about it? That kind of cynicism and misery is such an awful way to live.

In fact, they picked apart this very blog. You know, the one which evolved into my own copywriting business.

From the bottom of my heart, I sincerely hope they are doing well. Really, truly, hand-to-heart. Why in the hell would I feel otherwise? Who would want to carry that spiteful burden?

I also hope, again from the bottom of my heart, they aren’t circling their next prey, ousting them and then treating their very presence like a virus no one wants to get.

Do better.

After saving some more, working some more and keeping my head down the day finally came.

I turned in my resignation and didn’t look back except to tell this story so others know they aren’t alone.

All I ask is one thing, and I’m asking this particularly of young people that watch: Please do not be cynical. I hate cynicism. For the record, it’s my least favorite quality — it doesn’t lead anywhere.

In its most general sense, and mental illness aside, it’s your job not to be a cynical jerk. It’s the easy route to gossip and to unleash cynical tropes about how someone may be different than you.

I’ve been caught up and whirled into the negativity at times, spewing out seemingly harmless jokes about others or believing a person was personally out to get me or not doing their best.

Was I correct sometimes? Yes. Was I incorrect sometimes? Yes. But, still, what a crap way to live and believe in others.

I once read—it was probably Brené Brown, yes 100% it was her—that it’s so much easier to believe everyone around you is just doing their best. Trusting that, believing that, will lead to so much less work on your shoulders to criticize and instead, help.

Nobody in life gets exactly what they thought they were going to get.

There’s a scene in the often overlooked but awesome movie, Contact.

Laugh all you want, it’s a great flick!

Jodie Foster’s character, Dr. Ellie Arroway, has worked for decades as a scientist and finds strong evidence of extraterrestrial life. The moment she’s brought in to tell the world about it from the White House, her archnemesis literally steps in and steals the show. This was also the guy who tried to shut down her project and didn’t have great things to say to her about her work. He took her work, called it his own and got all the accolades.

I viscerally remember crying in the theaters at this scene. And it seems like such an innocuous one, no?

But even at that point in my young life, I had experienced people mocking me or stealing my work to copy and claim as their own. And man, that’s such a gut punch.

Dr. Arroway didn’t get what she thought she was going to get; what she deserved to get.

*raises fists*

How many times have you felt that too? Knowing with every fiber of your being that you deserved the credit, promotion or pay raise. It’s infuriating!

“But if you work really hard and you’re kind, amazing things will happen. I’m telling you, amazing things will happen.”

Life often presents itself with a choice:

kindness

or

cynicism.

You know those people I mentioned above? They chose cynicism. They chose mean. They chose gossip.

Dr. Arroway continued to be her kind-self, as awful and frustrating as it was to watch from afar that the ahole got to do what she had worked towards.

You know what ended up happening to her archnemesis? He died.

Do I need to be that dramatic? No, but man, it sure gets the picture across, no?

*insert halo*

She eventually got to go on her mission too!

Mean didn’t win. The cynics didn’t win.

The truth will always, always, always—repeat after me—ALWAYS come out.

I’m sitting in my office running my own business pantsless from Hawaii about to go take a break and sit by the ocean. Who’s the real winner now?

There are so many times throughout our day we are tested and asked for a reaction of kindness. From that rude cashier to the jerk in the office.

Does that mean being taken advantage of? Heck no! Sometimes the most kind thing you can do is to set boundaries.

Goddammit Brené Brown, you’ve seeped into my soul.

But to respond, coming from a place of kindness, being yourself and sticking to the ethics you most value is a beautiful thing.

The Conan quote may seem like TV fodder. It may, at worst, even seem cliché. But for me, it’s a reminder that working hard and being kind go hand-in-freaking-hand.

Mean doesn’t win.

Mean doesn’t play the long game.

Mean is temporary.

You don’t need to dim the light of others to shine yourself.

The real victors are the kind ones.

That kind light will always be bright enough.

I Will No Longer Bond over Hating Our Bodies.

By

First 10k of the year.

It's one of our earliest connections and conversations as women. One that carries on until our very last breath.

The pointing, poking and pulling at portions of our bodies that we don't like.

Summer camps. Sports camps. Sleepovers. At lunch. At recess. On the bus. In cars. In dorm rooms. At parties. Over holidays. At work. At wedding dress fittings. During baby showers. Over the kitchen island when the kids finally go down to sleep.

Discussions about thinner thighs.

Less wobbly arms.

Botox, fillers, butt lifts.

Bikini body. Summer bod.

Sweating for the wedding.

Pregnancy and post-partum: Wow, she's so big. Wow she's so small. Wow, she must be having twins. She must be having a girl, have you seen the size of her hips? She bounced back quickly.

We bond over hating our bodies, or worse, making fun of other people's bodies.

I'm not here for it. Not one freakin' day longer.

As an adult, I'm 5'8”. But, as the doctors’ growth charts predicted, I was 5'7” by the time I was in fifth grade. Most of my formative years were spent hating being one of the tallest and by proxy, the biggest girls in the room, on the field or in a play. I very much had the body of an adult, early on. I woke up with a C-cup in sixth grade. I remember feeling cellulite when I crossed my legs in 7th grade and asked my mom WTF it was. I legit never shopped in the juniors department, it never fit my hips. Ever. I was never that willowy, lanky tall type that was so admired in modeling during my teenage years.

Nothing tastes as good as skinny feels.

Kate Moss

Nice.

I was also never fat, but reminded constantly that I wasn't skinny either. Big boned, baby fat or curvy were all constant reminders that I wasn't what society thought was beautiful.

And for what it's worth, being fat isn't an automatic exclusion from being beautiful. I can't tell you how many times I've heard, “You're not fat, you're beautiful.” As if those two can't coexist. I've learned fat is a neutral term, not to be associated with beauty standards or the amount of respect one deserves. It's quite simply, in its purest form, a description of someone's body. That's it.

I was a size 14 by high school. You know, legitimately the most common size in our country? But not amongst my peers, many of whom hadn't gotten their period and therefore didn't have the joys of grown-up hips and thighs and breasts. I didn't deviate from that size much at all, even to this day. But as a teenager? Woah. It was one of the worst things to be. Bigger.

(For what it’s worth, I realize that there are also traumatic and formative experiences from not going through puberty in the prescriptive timeframe that society demands.)

I was told by a family member as a teenager that I should wear heels more often because it makes my legs look thinner. Similarly, as I hit puberty, it was discussed at length that the best thing a relative ever did was look at her overweight siblings and decide to eat less. Let's not forget the social reminders too. Bigger girls aren't asked to dances, given better parts in shows or someone you can share clothes with.

It seemed the most important thing to be was thin. Not my accolades. Not my accomplishments. If I could only be skinny too, then those accomplishments would matter. The pinnacle of life was wrapped in my body. Big or bigger wasn't acceptable.

That sort of constant barrage and reminder that the very body you live in, isn't pretty and doesn't deserve respect, creates a small voice that sets up shop in the back of your brain, making itself comfortable over the years. It's so comfortable, in fact, that for the rest of your life, it chimes in at the beach, in the dressing room, at holiday dinners and during sex.

My mom, the person I thought was the most beautiful woman in the world, constantly talked poorly about her body. In one breath, she would say not to be like her, to know that I'm beautiful inside and out, no matter what. Then, in another breath, would be on another fad diet or as people commented on how much we looked alike, she'd say,“I know. Poor thing.”

I recently read the book, The Fuckit Diet, and to say it's been a whirlwind of changing my mindset around my relationship with my body and food, would be an understatement.

Quite frankly, I didn't think there was much of an issue. I've always prided myself on treating my body with respect and sticking the middle finger up to anyone who called me fat. See that story from Barcelona, Spain here.

Sure, words hurt. I would be lying if I said that being told I'm ugly or my favorite, “you have such a pretty face,” didn't sting. It does. I was even called Fatty McPeterson by friends in an email that I wasn’t supposed to see.

But, I really truly believed I was working towards whole acceptance, even if there were bumps in the road or nasty words tossed my way.

This is me, as I am. Take it or leave it.

In terms of health, something that you cannot tell about someone from their weight alone, I've always had a clean bill. We all know BMI is bullshit now, right? In fact, one of my doctors told me as I was training for another race and I quipped about how I didn't lose a freakin' pound training for my last one, that I was probably healthier than her. HER. She was thin! In that stereotypically beautiful, thin way.

“Yeah. I drink Coke all day and can't remember the last time I ran a mile. So, good on you!”

My doctors don't have concerns and if they did. That's between me and them. None of your business. Full stop.

I tell you all of this because it’s still been a struggle and I know I'm not alone in it. I still beat myself up for forgetting breakfast sometimes or forgetting to count WW points or avoiding gatherings because I didn't want to be seen as the“big girl eating too much.”

My wonderful body has carried me through a deadly pandemic, across 3 half-marathon finish lines, countless 5ks, an Olympic-distance triathlon, traveled across continents, countries and double-digit moves across thousands of miles. I'm proud of it.

But, even with that pride, in some way, shape or form, I have been very aware of everything that I eat since I was 10. Whether that’s because of the people in my life, a lack of guidance, a literal lack of food at some points, another fad diet in high school and college, or the 6 times I've joined Weight Watchers, I didn't exactly have the best relationship with food.

I'm now realizing the anxiety and restriction from that mindset has done so much more damage than good.

I may never, ever get to my goal weight. Whatever that was. Never.

Am I okay with that?

I've always known I'll be bigger and embraced that. But even with that mentality, there was still something more to achieve. Some other BMI to fit under, regardless of how I got there. (See: Restrictive eating, a poor relationship with food, feeling hungry, judging others for how they eat, etc.)

I'm choosing to be okay with it.

I'm choosing to love my body.

It's one of the boldest fuck yous you can give.

There are so many worse things to be in this world, besides fat.

I would rather rock my cellulite thighs and ass, lovable hips, boobs for days and lack of a thigh gap than be: mean, selfish, woefully ignorant or worse, a woman who judges another for how she looks.

If I died thin, I would venture to guess not many people would talk about my body. And if some bitches huddled around my casket and talked about how good I looked AS A DEAD BUT STILL THIN PERSON, perhaps I needed to surround myself with better people in real life.

But, you see, that scares some people.

That sort of mentality.

If we don't have the right to pick apart another person for how they look, if we don't have the time to analyze everything that society tells us is wrong or ugly with our body, if we must be forced to see that people who are vastly different shapes and sizes are out and about living their life happily…

We're asked to look in the mirror and reevaluate the time we've spent hating ourselves.

That's freakin' scary.

If your whole world is wrapped up in being exactly what society deems as pretty, then what are you to do when you finally know better?

Nothing. You do nothing.

You live your life free from the reigns of what some person in your family said about your body. What some friends snidely said about another woman's body. What society perpetually shoves in front of us as what is and isn't acceptable about our bodies.

Those times we gather ‘round over brunch, during dinner or meet up to go shopping to only talk about how much we hate how our body looks? How many awful wrinkles we have and the Botox that's needed?

I'm done.

I will no longer talk about hating my body.

I will no longer participate in you hating yours.

I will remind you how remarkable you are.

I will embrace that not everyone is on the same journey as me.

But, I won't let society tear our individual beauty apart, pit us against each other and then convince us if we just fit into a certain size or look then we'd be more likeable.

No. The jig is up.

All bodies deserve respect. Including yours.

I will no longer bond over hating our bodies.

9 People Share Their Daily Pandemic Schedules

By

One of the best things I've discovered from running Not Your Average Gal is that we are far more alike than different. Since being somewhat socially isolated for nearly a year can often lead us to believe we're doing things alone or differently, I wanted to ask people to share what their daily schedules look like.

The common thread I found when asking questions about daily schedules is this: we're all taking it day-by-day. No one has the “right” answers. Some days are better than others. Some days give inklings of the days of pre-COVID yore. Some days mean eating mac ‘n cheese in my pajamas at 11 am with enough dry shampoo in my hair to start a fire if anyone dares light a match near me. Some just flat out resemble the chaotic, messy aftermath of a lively Jojo Siwa concert.

Take heed in knowing you're not alone and see how these 9 families have adjusted their daily schedules to meet the needs of ever-changing guidelines and an unrelenting pandemic.

Kristie Peterson

Las Vegas, Nevada

4th Grade Public School Teacher

Kids: Age 6

What does your current daily routine look like for mornings, afternoons and evenings:

Wake up and get myself and my daughter ready for school. My husband also works from home, so at times we have breakfast together.  Then, we all head to our different rooms of the house to work. My husband is upstairs, daughter in the kitchen, and I'm in the dining room/playroom/now office. My husband's schedule changes depending on when he has meetings, so sometimes we have lunch together. Then, back to our designated areas.

While I'm teaching 36 4th graders online, I'm also helping my first grader. Many times her little miss independent attitude and sassiness drives me nuts, BUT I am thankful for her amazing teacher and her perseverance to do things on her own right now. Then, in the evenings, we all come together AGAIN. One of us usually takes our daughter for a walk or a bike ride to get out of the house, we run errands, and make and eat dinner.

Is this daily routine different now than when the pandemic first began? 

Beginning of the pandemic school wasn't nearly as structured. We were just trying to stay afloat. Teachers weren't grading anything and student attendance wasn't strongly monitored. 

Now, it is like we are at school, but all online. 

What is the toughest part of the pandemic?

Watching my little social butterfly crave being with her friends.

What is the best thing to come out of the pandemic?

Parents now realize what teachers really do!

What is one piece of advice that you learned from your own day-to-day that could help others with their daily schedule?

I am the type of person who doesn't tend to enjoy a lot of change.  So, I tell myself, the only constant thing right now is change.  It makes me feel a little better….sort of. 

Favorite quote:

“We can do hard things.”

Glennon Doyle

Kamalpal (Paul) Roy

Walnut Creek, California

Environmental Functional Area Group Leader for Waste and Air Quality at Lawrence Livermore National Laboratory

Kids: Ages 3 and 9 months

When did you first start getting scared/nervous about COVID-19?

When I read in early March that there was a cruise ship containing 3500 people in the port of Oakland (about 20 minutes from our home) with confirmed cases on board.

What does your current daily routine look like for mornings, afternoons and evenings:

Mornings: Up at ~7:55AM, triage my inbox in bed, make coffee and breakfast, check if I have any meetings where I will be expected to have my camera on, and shower if needed. Attend my morning meetings via WebEx.

Afternoons: Routinely go for a long walk (~7500 steps with hills) with my wife in our neighborhood with our masks on, determine what we will have for lunch and dinner, and finish off my 1,000th WebEx of the day.

Evenings: Make either a cocktail or mocktail (depending on the level of pandemic fatigue experienced that day), try and fit in another walk with the boys, take the dogs out to the backyard, jump into the hot tub, and make dinner as a family (our kids are not all that helpful).

What is the toughest part of the pandemic?

Not being able to see our family and friends, which includes the traveling aspect for us.

What is the best thing to come out of the pandemic?

The birth of our second son, the time that I have spent with my family, and the new administration in the White House.  

What is one piece of advice that you learned from your own day-to-day that could help others with their daily schedule?

Treat your home office work life like you were still going to the office in person with respect to your children. Meaning, if you would not be able to get involved with caretaker issues with your children while you were at work, don't do it now just because you are home.

Favorite quote:

“This too shall pass.”

Medieval Persian Sufi poets

Meg McClure

London, England, UK

Former study abroad coordinator

When did you first start getting scared/nervous about COVID-19?

By mid-February, my workplace was beginning to put extra hygiene measures into place (extra signage, a hand sanitizing station in the building foyer, etc) and we were having weekly meetings to assess the situation. When our programs in Florence, Italy made the decision to send the students back to their homes in the US and continue the learning online at the end of February, this was a big line-in-the-sand moment.

Meanwhile, my friends in Italy (where I lived for most of my 20s) were reporting strict lockdown measures beginning to be put into action. It was around this time that I worried it would soon impact the UK – and a week later, I contracted the virus myself!

What does your current daily routine look like for mornings, afternoons and evenings:

My day begins around 10AM. I’ve never been a morning person my whole life, so I’m enjoying leaning in to my natural circadian rhythms! My boyfriend brings me coffee in bed around 10AM; I read the newspaper online and sometimes have a phone call or two.

I make lunch for the both of us and either do some domestic things around the house, volunteer at a local food bank, spend time online job hunting or participating in market research; or take a walk/do some grocery shopping, depending on what day it is.

I make dinner for us 80% of the time; we generally eat around 7 and spend the evening watching movies or TV together or, in good weather, walking along the river or in the forest preserve near our apartment.

What is the toughest part of the pandemic?

Not being able to see friends and family, and losing my job. I had been contemplating a career change anyway, but it’s been challenging, seeing my industry all but crumble in front of me. It will take awhile for study abroad to return to “normal,” and I don’t doubt it will have to find a new normal.

On more of a “first world problems” note, not being able to travel has been soul-destroying. Martin and I had high hopes of escaping to the Maldives or the Seychelles this winter, and that’s definitely not happening, given how things are going in the UK under lockdown. At present, it’s just not possible to even plan any trips, which is where I find joy!

Not singing has also been devastating for me. Although my choirs do online rehearsals and social events, I struggle with these – for me, nothing replaces the collective soul of singing together in the same room.

Looking back, what is your favorite memory of 2020?

There have been several socially distanced surprise visits to friends. I arranged with my best friend’s husband to pay her a surprise visit not long after she had her baby. When the time came, he coaxed her outside without telling her that she had a visitor; I was waiting in a mask, face shield and gloves! We spent a great afternoon catching up in her backyard – me 25 feet away under my own biohazard tent!

Another friend was shielding at home on Halloween, so three of our mutual friends and I put on Halloween costumes, stood in her front garden, scratched on her window like cats and when she opened the curtains, we did a choreographed dance to Kate Bush’s “Wuthering Heights”, one of her favorite songs. I prepared a “Love, Actually” esque homage with cue cards for another friend who was quarantining at home and stuck on her own on Christmas Eve, again from the safety of her front window. Finding creative ways to socialize without getting too close has been fun!

What is one piece of advice that you learned from your own day-to-day that could help others with their daily schedule?

Be kind to yourself! None of this is normal, and it’s OK to feel overwhelmed or under-energized. If you can’t quite manage to stick to a strict routine like you may have had in pre-plague days, hey – that’s OK.

Favorite quote:

“Only dull people are brilliant at breakfast.”

 Oscar Wilde

Kendra Caralis

Grosse Pointe Woods, MI

High School Social Studies Teacher

Kids: Ages 9, 7 and 2

When did you first start getting scared/nervous?

We took the boys on a trip in February to London and Paris, and I was a little apprehensive but not too worried yet. Then the week before everything shut down, my dad got married in NC. We took the boys on a plane and I remember thinking, “Is this really a good idea?” We got home on a Monday, school shut down that Friday.

What does your current daily routine look like for mornings, afternoons and evenings:

Well, the boys are back to hybrid, so it’s a little more normal. Some mornings we have to get them out the door for school, other mornings I leave without them and they are at home for the day doing async work. I don’t have to rush out to pick them up from school anymore so I’m actually able to stay at my school later in the evenings and do work. We still do dinner, and I work out more often now in order to destress.

What is the toughest part of the pandemic?

Seeing our boys struggle in school has been tough. Some topics just don’t get done, and we have to be ok with that. This year is different, and we are doing the best we can. The other part was my gym closing. It had been my release and was a huge help with my mental health struggles. Not having that was a big big change. I’m thankful it’s been back open now since September.

What is the best thing to come out of the pandemic?

So many more students know how to do things online for school. I can give assignments in our physical class and they know how to submit them. Less copies to make at school. I also was able to eat lunch like an adult instead of rushing during a quick lunch break at school. That was nice. 

What is one piece of advice that you learned from your own day-to-day that could help others with their daily schedule?

Be ready to adjust and change it. Make time for yourself as well. My time at the gym has been huge and necessary.

Favorite quote:

“I am not the same, having seen the moon shine on the other side of the world. ”

Mary Anne Radmacher

Judi Kwon

Rochester Hills, MI

Purchasing professional

Kids: Age 4

When did you first start getting scared/nervous? 

Just about right away.  My sister is an epidemiologist and with all the people I know in the medical field, I don't mess around. The last week I was in the office, I distinctly recall being in the ladies' room and hearing someone use the facilities and then walk out without washing her hands even though stores were ALREADY running out of disinfectant, hand sanitizer, and hand soap. Also, seeing people carry on with their plans for St Patty's day- We were doomed.

What does your current daily routine look like for mornings, afternoons and evenings:

I start at 7am so I usually roll out of bed by 6:30/6:45.  I do get a workout outfit on or at least part of one because it makes it easier to get out the door for a midday or mid-afternoon run. In the summers I prefer a late-evening run. When it's nice out, we spend a lot of time outdoors as a family just taking care of things around the house.

What is the toughest part of the pandemic?

Not having the OPTION to see friends.

What is the best thing to come out of the pandemic?

RUNNING and my run friends, getting to know my new neighbors in Rochester through virtual groups.

Looking back, what is your favorite memory of 2020? 

Making myself run in the cold and heat and learning I can push myself further than I thought previously!

What is one piece of advice that you learned from your own day-to-day that could help others with their daily schedule?

Make time for yourself. Reach out to others who you care for and don't be afraid to call people out on their shit. Sometimes they need that reality slap.

Favorite quote:

“I stopped waiting for light at the end of the tunnel. I lit that bitch up myself.”

Adrienne Rönmark

Troy, MI

Violinist, Detroit Symphony Orchestra
Private Violin Teacher 
PR/Marketing Director Brookfield Academy Education Foundation

Kids: Ages 12, 10, 8

When did you first start getting scared/nervous?

I remember sitting on stage rehearsing Beethoven 9 with over 150 people including a chorus the day before the concerts were all cancelled. Schools had been shut down the week before, and we knew Covid was risky. We had a discussion onstage about whether we should proceed with the rehearsal since we knew that new emergency orders were coming out by the hour and there was a good chance the week's concerts would be cancelled. I just kept thinking about all of the people in the room, how close we all were and how much I was breathing in other people's air. Then I got the Emergency Alert stay at home order pushed to my Apple Watch during rehearsal. It was the most uncomfortable and nervous I've been in a long time, and my job is to perform for thousands of people multiple times a week. 😬

What does your current daily routine look like for mornings, afternoons and evenings:

Kids are all virtual learners from home, so mornings are prepping them for the start of school. Periodic check ins during the day to make sure that technology is all working and they are logging on to the proper links at the right time. Constantly cooking (feeding three children at home is no joke, I swear they eat twice as much as they would at school…hello Costco delivery)! Afternoons are spent managing homework, organizing online tutoring sessions, and cooking dinner. Evenings I turn in early to push start again the next day. Usually fall asleep to YouTube gardening videos (my new hobby) to calm the mind and destress. Weekends are my work days, teaching online for DSO Civic Youth Ensembles, maintaining my private studio of young violinists, and recording recitals and donor relation videos for DSO. Any spare time is spent running fundraising campaigns for my kids' school's Education Foundation, as well as gardening!

What is the toughest part of the pandemic?

The loneliness. Most days I don't talk to any adults other than my husband. I miss the casual social interactions at work, and I miss having moments of the day when I am not “in charge.”Being a parent is always 24/7, but being a working parent outside of the home gives you respite to know that someone else is caring for your kids for a few hours and you can mentally go “on call.”Being home 24/7 with kids AND having to balance work and their mental health, and my mental health…it's kind of a losing battle. As much as I am sincerely grateful for the time I've gained with my family this past year, I really look forward to filling my own bucket with some solitude and adult conversation!

What is the best thing to come out of the pandemic?

Definitely getting to see my husband more! During a normal year his work schedule (he's VP and GM for DSO) is on overdrive and even though we work for the same organization, I never get to see him at work. Since March 2020 he has been working from home, and it's SO nice to feel a part of a team as well as have his humor to get through the day! Parenting is hard enough, but when you don't have a teammate to good cop/bad cop, it can absolutely put you under. I'm so thankful for our family game nights and movie nights, pizza Fridays, taco Tuesdays, and just all getting to be together during a time in their childhood when their school and individual interests would be moving them apart. 

Second best thing? Starting my vegetable garden! 

What is one piece of advice that you learned from your own day-to-day that could help others with their daily schedule?

As tempting as it is since we are all in our pjs all day, DON'T CHECK EMAIL IN BED 😆 No, seriously. I constantly am revamping our bedroom to function as studio space/recording space/personal sanctuary space and it is SO important to have clear boundaries on where and when you do your work.

Favorite quote:

“To see and be seen. That is the truest nature of Love.”

brené Brown

Meghan Jameson

Evans, GA

Full-time mom, 2nd grade facilitator, preschool teacher, general contractor (major house renos), family barber, manager of Tidewater Solutions.

Kids: Ages 8 and 3

Which month did you start adjusting your day-to-day routine?

Day 1. As soon as schools were closed. I no longer went to work. The kids no longer went to school. My husband, Matt, was home, mostly all day every day. I barely even tried to continue teaching 1st grade to my daughter. There was no live instruction then, it was all on the parents and I was like, “Uhhhh yeah forget it.” And the videos that my son's preschool teachers sent over? So cute, but no freaking way. My daughter Face-timed with her friends for hours, I mean hours, every day. Prior to that she had never done that, or texted anyone, or even heard of Facebook messenger. 

I had no idea when the hell it would end. I did finance committee meetings for the theater that was my client in the garage from my car because it was the only place I could get peace and quiet. I worked from the kitchen table instead of the office so I could keep an eye on the kids while they destroyed the house. I was interrupted approximately every 5 minutes, and my kids watched way too much TV. When I was about to lose it, Matt would put them in the car and just drive. Nowhere to go, but he would just drive for hours. 

I was never meant to be a stay at home mom. I always said I wasn't cut out for it, and it was honestly terrifying to me that I had to figure out how to be a parent ALL. DAY. LONG. I had no idea what to do. Stay at home parents make plans. They have play dates. They get out of the house because not getting out MAKES YOU CRAZY. I LOVED my job, and all I wanted to do was go to work, not be home with my kids and try to be their everything. 

Over time, we started to visit with my parents again out of desperation for all of us, and that was a blessing. Finally being able to share the load of child-rearing with my parents and get a breath every now and then was huge. 

Things were getting worse with Matt's job, so he applied to about 60 jobs (we had an awesome resume writer, cough cough). I was still legitimately terrified of getting and dying from COVID. I have bad luck with that kind of thing and felt certain it would happen to me. 

Around August, our luck changed. Matt was offered the job of a lifetime as General Manager for a brand new theater in Evans, GA, which happened to be an hour from his parents. It truly felt too good to be true. He has to have been the only person in the entire country who was HIRED in the event industry during a pandemic. 

What does your current daily routine look like for mornings, afternoons and evenings:

7:30AM Wake up, make coffee. Make cinnamon rolls, feed them to the children while they watch Disney+ on the couch. (survival mode, here still)

8:15AM — Matt leave for work (no more waking him up)

8:30AM — load both kids in the car. Count the school buses as we pass them. Drive past the llama farm. Drop my son off at preschool (we saved so much money not having childcare since March. We moved here and I put my son in a church preschool that costs 1/10 of the monthly charge I used to pay — unbelievable. Plus, my mother-in-law is thrilled because he says the blessing before dinner when they come to visit. So what if he thinks that his Baby Yoda is baby Jesus. He's learning).

9:00AM — stop at Gigi's and Papa's house, give them a hug, or stop for a donut if we didn't have cinnamon rolls for breakfast.

9:30AM —My daughter logs in to school from our bonus room in our new house. I thank the heavens every day for her teacher. I go sit in my newly renovated home office and work. My productivity level has increased dramatically since pre-pandemic. 

My daughter interrupts me periodically, but usually I don't mind. 

Sometimes she asks me to sit in the bonus room with her, and well, thank goodness for laptops. 

1PM: Son is out of school — Papa picks him up and they play at his house for the afternoon 

1:45PM — Lunchtime — if it's a nice day, we take the golf cart that we own now (we live near Augusta, GA in a golf cart neighborhood) to the neighborhood McDonald's. We blast the music, let the wind blow our hair and get some lunch and a coffee. 

2:30PM — My daughter is back to school, and I work until she is done at 4:15. 

The evenings vary. No activities yet, so we either cook as a family, eat at my parents, or get some take out. We've started to venture out to eat some now that all the grandparents are vaccinated (and we've had our first dose), but we discovered that dining out with a 3-year-old is still not that fun!!! He choked on a quesadilla the other night and puked all over me in a restaurant. During a pandemic. I may never make friends in this town. 

What is one piece of advice that you learned from your own day-to-day that could help others with their daily schedule?

Slow down. Do less, live in the moment. I always heard that, but it took a pandemic to force me to actually do it. Go easy on yourself.

Favorite quote:

“Leave judgement at the door, let curiosity in.”

Sean McKale

Ann Arbor, MI

Orthotist – I make and fit people with all types of braces. My specific team that I manage fits a lot of back braces on people with broken spines, and fit devices on people that have just gone through surgeries to help them to stay immobilized for healing. 

Kids: Ages 8 and 5

What does your current daily routine look like for mornings, afternoons and evenings:

We are participating in a POD with two other families. In total we have 5 children, and how it works is that 1 parent is the host and then the 5 kids do their school work. Two kids are in the third grade, one is second, and two are in the young 5’s program at our local school. For me, that has meant I am working 4 day work weeks. 

In the fall, I was fortunate to have access to the eFMLA (e stands for emergency) that the federal government made available as were two of the other pod parents b/c they both work for the university. That meant I would work Mon-Thursday and then stay home with the kids on Friday. I am still covering the Pod on Fridays, but now am working 4-10hour shifts to be able to make it all work. Our Pod also gets together often after school on Wed-Fri where the kids continue to play together and we sit and have dinner together. It’s always nice to not have to prepare a meal or clean some dishes. But most importantly is the community aspect of splitting bread with one another. I really feel for the people/families doing this on their own.

What is the toughest part of the pandemic?

The hardest thing is not being able to travel and see more family. My wife is from Toronto and we are missing a year in the life of cousins for our children, and not seeing their grandmother. A year is a long time in a young person’s life, and they have both changes so much. 

It is also difficult that they have not been in school and what that means for their own personal growth and learning. We have made the best of this situation, but it is not the best situation. 

What is the best thing to come out of the pandemic?

The Flying Squirrel croquet club. Before Covid I would play garage pool with a group of dads in the neighborhood. Once COVID came about that put and end to that. It began getting warm in the spring and we understood social distancing and being outdoors would be alright. We began playing croquet on Thursday nights in the park next to my friend’s house. He strung up a large number of string lights amongst the tall oak tree’s and we gathered to play in whatever weather occurs. Being out there we have discovered living amongst the trees are some flying squirrels and whenever we saw one soar through the sky it would always bring some excitement to our evening. The fellowship and socialization has kept us all going throughout this, and having fun is such an important thing to do.

What is one piece of advice that you learned from your own day-to-day that could help others with their daily schedule?

Find your community, and ask for support. People can not do this on their own. I think we have been reasonable with our POD size but we are not alone on this, and the support from others has been amazing.

Favorite quote:

“Comparison is the thief of joy”

Theodore Roosevelt

Sarah Kennedy

Bloomington, IL

Stay at home mom, part-time dance teacher

Kids: Ages 9 & 11

Which month did you start adjusting your day-to-day routine?

I had to start right away in late March. All in person activities were canceled. I would work with my girls in the morning on school work. They didn't have much to do since the school had to assume the students didn't have a lot to work with at home. I started recording classes for my dance students and eventually moved to having Zoom classes. I learned really quick how to keep preschoolers attention for 30 minutes over Zoom. I have to give so much credit to teachers with virtual teaching. It's tough.

We had a lot more time on our hands as a family. My oldest didn't have 12 hours of gymnastics practice a week, my youngest didn't have in person dance or theater classes. We were home all the time except for doctor appointments. I went grocery shopping every other week. I didn't allow my daughters to play with friends. They got around that rule by sitting/playing by the fence with our neighbor on the other side. I have pictures of my girls playing Roblox with their neighbor friend, with them sitting on each side of our fence. One day in the spring they had a water balloon fight over the fence. (This was actually my oldest daughter's favorite memory of 2020, the daily meetups at the fence) Eventually, I gave in and let my daughters play with a small selected group of friends in the neighborhood outside.

Our area didn't start to open back up until June. At that point, my dance studio opened its doors to students, my oldest was able to return to gymnastics practice and my youngest was able to resume theater. I was super cautious with my dance students, I really emphasized staying apart and practicing Social Dis-Dancing.

What does your current daily routine look like for mornings, afternoons and evenings:

Our routines have almost all returned to pre-Covid, except my husband is still working from home. He really enjoys working from home and dreads the return. State Farm has only a few people who volunteered to return in office right now. He will be one of the last to return in office due to health conditions and being on the list to receive a kidney transplant.

The main difference is schooling. They began the school year completely virtual. The district was much better prepared to offer virtual learning. In October, the district switched to a hybrid schedule for all grades, 2 days in person, 3 days virtual. November we went full virtual again due to increasing cases. January, they returned to Hybrid. Finally in February, elementary is now in school 5 days a week. My oldest is at the middle school and only attends school in person 2 days a week, the other 3 days she is virtual.

All of our pre-covid activities have resumed. We just have to wear masks everywhere. I buy masks like cute socks. You can never have too many. I swear everytime I come home from the grocery store, I come home with another one, plus I make them too.

What is the toughest part of the pandemic?

The constant uncertainty and worry. I hate the feeling I have after each time I visit or drive my father (73yrs) to a doctor appointment. I'm always on edge those 5-7 days after a visit with him. It was so hard to see my dad, who doesn't quite comprehend completely what is going on, have to isolate so much. The residents had to stay in their rooms and eat all meals in room instead of in the dining hall. My father is a very social guy and it was very hard for him. I didn't have him over because with him living with other seniors I didn't want to expose them as well if he were to get sick. They have been able to relax restrictions in the building for the residents. They now rotate who eats in the dinning hall and they are allowed to use the common areas. Last week, they were finally able to vaccinate everyone in his building. That was a huge relief.

For my husband, it was the unexpected death of his father. It wasn't due to covid, it was a heart condition. It was difficult not being able to have the family together in the hospital. Once we knew he wasn't going to recover, the hospital did allow my husband and his brother to be there to support his mom and say goodbye to their dad. We were blessed that they were able to do that since so many others were not allowed to do that during the pandemic.

What is the best thing to come out of the pandemic?

Family time! We enjoyed tv series, movies, and games together. I loved not having to run someplace each night. The pandemic also placed a huge spotlight on what was available locally. We ordered take out from new restaurants.We really made a conscious effort to do our Christmas shopping locally. Funny thing, we actually tried not to order anything from Amazon over the pandemic.

My husband would say the best part is his mountain man beard and hair. We have only cut his hair once since March 2020, and that was because his mom made him for the funeral.

What is one piece of advice that you learned from your own day-to-day that could help others with their daily schedule?

Take it day by day, and be flexible and accepting.

Favorite quote:

“Everyday above ground is a great day.”

Pitbull, Time of our lives