Category Archives: Gratitude

Comfort in Numbers: 41, 2, 300…

MCC Airplain header image

Two years ago today, I started this blog with this post.  Last year, on my 40th birthday, which was also my first “blogaversary”, I posted this: When I was younger, I really wanted people to think I was beautiful, then I wanted them to think of me as smart, then I wanted to be funny,…

Instead of resolutions: a Permission Slip to Slip.

And the the giveaway winner is: Laura. Hugs to all who didn’t win this time, more chances coming soon. This post is dedicated to my beloved #ppdchat friends. I’ve been so consumed  with creating events and classes here in Ithaca, that I’ve been rather absent on twitter. I miss you all, I’ll be back soon….

Forced Gratitude Tastes Like Guilt (and a permission slip ritual)

This post is dedicated to Amy B. I am stroking your hair and sending adoption papers Godspeed your way. Forced Gratitude Tastes Like Guilt Now that’s a title for a Thanksgiving post, isn’t it? As a mother recovering from anxiety and depression, there are plenty of moments where I  have zero access to the truckloads…

Category Archives: Gratitude

Comfort in Numbers: 41, 2, 300…

MCC Airplain header image

Two years ago today, I started this blog with this post.  Last year, on my 40th birthday, which was also my first “blogaversary”, I posted this: When I was younger, I really wanted people to think I was beautiful, then I wanted them to think of me as smart, then I wanted to be funny,…

Instead of resolutions: a Permission Slip to Slip.

And the the giveaway winner is: Laura. Hugs to all who didn’t win this time, more chances coming soon. This post is dedicated to my beloved #ppdchat friends. I’ve been so consumed  with creating events and classes here in Ithaca, that I’ve been rather absent on twitter. I miss you all, I’ll be back soon….

Forced Gratitude Tastes Like Guilt (and a permission slip ritual)

This post is dedicated to Amy B. I am stroking your hair and sending adoption papers Godspeed your way. Forced Gratitude Tastes Like Guilt Now that’s a title for a Thanksgiving post, isn’t it? As a mother recovering from anxiety and depression, there are plenty of moments where I  have zero access to the truckloads…