At some point, their journey becomes their own. Rather than steal from our children's futures by offering an endless supply of excuses, instant answers, and free passes, we need to prepare them for a life without us.
I currently know more than I’d ever wanted to about Gout, Medicare, menu changes at Cracker Barrel, and my new friend Linda’s misbehaving grandson. It's delightful.
Sometimes, leaving the couch is exactly how you find out where you're most comfortable.
Because I travel frequently, I have the (dis)pleasure of seeing all kinds of classless behavior in airports, and let me tell you, Crocs and pajamas are just the start. I often wonder, as I’m making my way through TSA or to my gate or to the boarding line, if I’m the only one who has ever ventured into a public space before.
My best-therapy-practices have always included assuming someone else is the problem, ignoring advice on the first pass, and shoving my muted phone deep into my purse. But then…the lines started to blur.
What’s the big deal with going no contact? Well, for one, it’s dangerous, devastating and, often, unjustified. Beyond that, it’s not healthy. It stunts emotional maturity and growth.
I've become an expert at baiting my no-contact kid into a conversation. My methods? Forwarding mail, paying for college, having a death in the family, etc.
Look, it was my mistake, okay? Still, having hope for my husband’s E.S.P. to come in is fine, as long as I consider that a very loose and unpredictable fallback plan.
"She brought an emotional support toy into the appointment." The price of pets? Worth it.
I'm off on another adventure! Want to follow along? I mean, why wouldn't you? Join me on the socials under Bearly Home Travel.
