Sometimes life hands us a series of moments that even our most whiny child couldn’t complain about. A gift, for sure, but are we unwrapping it? Read more
There’s a small metal box, trimmed in pink pom-poms, that sits on my daughter’s bedside table. In it rest handwritten worries—a collection of thoughts she’d prefer leave her alone.
It’s a special item I loved giving her, but not the first “worry box” I’ve gifted. The original belongs to a friend I met fifteen years ago. And I even have my own version, though it’s only in my mind.
So we have an 8-year-old, a then twenty-something, and a thirty-nine-and-three-fourths-year-old all with one common problem: Read more
Ever pass something dozens of times until one day it quietly steps into your field of presence? This happened to me last weekend just outside my favorite place for an iced almond milk latte.
I was on an early morning Father’s Day coffee mission but something about this familiar plant made me stop. And I realized the magic I’d mindlessly passed during so many previous visits: Read more
I’d read the story years before and knew I should step away, but I didn’t. So there I stood in Target’s electronics section, producing tears I refused to release. All because a children’s book was tugging at my heart.
Now, before you get sentimental, this was definitely not an “aww” moment. In fact, I went home and transformed some of those unshed tears into an angry speech that left my hubby wide-eyed.
What was so upsetting? Read more
What pairs with teriyaki salmon? BBQ sauce, if you ask my six-year-old. So there on the table lay the wrapper from the brand new bottle, and what did my mind pair with that? The props game from Whose Line Is It Anyway? of course!
If you’re not familiar, the game’s goal is to use a random item in creative ways, and the show’s goal is to make you laugh.
So mid-dinner, we played round one of The Meyer Family Props Game. And in those few moments, here’s what I captured: Read more
Camping’s a box I checked off my to-try list about ten years ago. And it’s been purposely absent from all of my lists since then.
I don’t get the whole camping thing. A walk in the woods? Yes. Dining al fresco? Definitely. Getting away from it all? Absolutely. But a community bathroom (or worse) and no bed? You lost me.
I’d successfully avoided a second experience until my daughter came along and with her, Girl Scouts—famous for cookies . . . and camping.
So the Friday evening before Mother’s Day, I drove her and another mom/daughter duo toward our destiny—Camp Tuckaho.
And here’s what I learned in my 24-hour reunion with the one activity I’d hoped to never do again: Read more
Ever think about how the difference between one word and the next is often just a letter?
Except until the other day when I was searching online for St. Louis events and saw one appearing to be titled “Meditation Matters.”
“Awesome!” I thought, clicking on the link.
All that awesomeness ended when I realized the program targeted the senior population and was actually called “Medication Matters.”
Changing one little letter can catapult a word from your corner of the world to the opposite pole.
So why not apply this “one little letter” philosophy to propel ourselves in a direction we’d rather be heading? Read more
Last time it went missing, it left for a week. So when we realized yesterday at 8pm that my 6-year-old’s ninja turtle water bottle had begun another solo adventure—left behind after baseball practice—I headed to reclaim it.
The empty baseball diamond felt like the Field of Dreams set—my mind even started replaying the “If you build it . . .” line as I canvassed the outfield. The bottle lay, of course, in the last possible place I could look, but I eventually spotted its neon-green lid.
All alone on a cold metal bench.
Well, not completely alone. You see, on my search-and-rescue route I discovered a handful of baseballs, a tennis ball, a Gatorade bottle, and a purple jacket.
All left behind—the typical behavior of most kids that age.
But as I quietly walked back to my car, my shoes absorbing the evening dew, two thoughts began developing: Read more
Once a week for the past 15 months (minus some vacation time), I’ve crafted an idea into an article you’d want to read.
Each word in the final cut’s an official survivor of multiple, no-mercy revisions. (If it won’t serve you, it’s gone—even parts I love.)
But when I upload to my website, I see something that stops me every time: Read more
I remember two things about watching The Wizard of Oz as a kid:
- My little brother so terrified of the Wicked Witch of the West he left the room crying.
- The underwhelming effect of seeing the whole movie on a black-and-white TV set.
But I loved the film anyway. And today I’m loving that its characters and what they represent found their way into this blog post.
It all started at the annual talent show tryouts last Thursday at my kids’ elementary school.
It was the first year my 8-year-old wanted to give it a try, and I expected, of course, to feel proud of my little girl and her two friends as they danced to Demi Lovato’s “Confident.”
But I also witnessed three other things that topped off my pride tank: Read more