communication, health and wellness, lifestyle, Menopause, parenting, Uncategorized, Women, writing

Chapters

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It’s been hot minute since I last posted, literally. This past summer has been one of the hottest on record and not just because of menopause. Mother Nature must be in her 50’s this go around for it’s 30 degrees Celsius (that’s HOT for my American readers) on the 5th of October. With the change of season, on the calendar at least, I find myself pondering change. These past years have seen more changes for yours truly than my mood before doing some hard internal work and getting some good ol’ hormones. While pondering all the changes, I came across a quote that hit the mark – “Don’t judge me based on the chapter of my life you arrived in.”.

I celebrated my 53rd birthday in this earthly realm this past August. I celebrated with my mother, at a local grocery store, as I was her wheels for most of the summer as my father recovered from open heart surgery. Mom even joked “Isn’t this better than some party?”. Actually, it kind of was. Dad’s heart wasn’t in the best shape and it was a 6 hour surgery with 14 hours on a ventilator and a 2 week hospital stay. Knowing my 53rd birthday very well could have been one person short, I was quite content to be at a grocery store with my momma on my birthday and arriving at their front porch to see Dad smiling as I brought in the groceries.

These past months I’ve found myself looking at strangers wondering what chapter they are in. Are they beginning one? At the end of one? In the thick of one? I find myself being more patient – those who know me well have just fell off their chairs. Recovering from heart surgery is not for the faint of heart – pun intended. Everyday I kept having the same thought – what do people do who are on their own? I found myself wanting to scoop up all the lone patients and bring them home like some kind of stray puppy. Yes – I realize – kind of co-dependent – I’m working on it. Wondering if one could be co-dependent with the Universe? You found your girl, well, at least I used to be your girl, slowly closing that chapter and trying to begin the next one. Back to the tale at hand. While passing the patients, the families, the hospital staff, I found myself wondering who they were? What was their day like? Were they scared? Were they at peace? Which chapter was this for them? Was it their last? Are they wondering the same thing about me? I found myself hoping they were, because if they’re wondering about others, there is hope for us all after all.

If this past chapter has taught me anything it’s this, we have no say, no control of anything except ourselves, there’s been a few days I’ve forgotten that. Also, you cannot rewrite or edit yourself into or out of anyone else’s chapter, no matter how hard you try – trust me, I know of what I speak. Being a recovering co-dependent menopausal GenXer is such fun.

I’m not even going to go into what’s happening in the world. We are all very well aware and that is another chapter for another day. That being said, taking a moment to remind yourself that the chapter you are arriving in may not be the best chapter to judge others right now may be the best thing you can do for yourself and others.

communication, lifestyle, parenting, Sunday Confessions, writing

Sunday Confessions

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Here we are again, Sunday morning. I’ve felt a tug, a yearning for months now. Whenever it’s quiet, or I’ve slowed down for a minute, it’s there. A voice? A knowing? A nudge? Some call it your knowing. Everyday, at least once a day, it’s there. As I was mixing my instant caramel iced coffee this morning, …my latest obsession, thank you Maxwell House, I stopped stirring and listened to my knowing. Write. That’s all it said. That’s all I felt, that’s all I heard. So beauties, here I am, writing. Fitting it’s a Sunday, because this gal has some confessing to do.

I’ve had this blog for over 12 years. I used to write everyday. Then I stopped. I would say it was because of the shop closing, job changes, life stresses, you name it, I would use any and all reasons as an excuse for why I wasn’t writing. It’s all bullshit. It is. I stopped writing because I stopped writing. No one else to blame – easy to do, but not the truth. I’ve come to realize I was playing the blame game. Blaming job changes, job losses, family struggles for the reason why I couldn’t write. I stopped writing because I chose to. I stopped writing because I listened to the naysayers. There was a time I wrote about speaking your truth and being your own beautiful, and there I was not practicing what I preached. Well, fuck that shit.

It’s been a time for us all. These last 5 years have melted together, time doesn’t seem real some days. The past 2 years have been a journey for yours truly. It began in October of 2023, when I was fired from a job I was recruited for. Long story short – I wouldn’t accept corporate funds to my personal account – a tale for another time. They say things happen for a reason, and usually my response to that is with my middle finger, but it worked out. I was able to be home to help my family. Hubby had emergency cataract surgery, both my parents had some health issues, I was able to be home for my child who is in need of support. My hubby is out of the house at least 12 hours a day, so I was home for home repairs, like ridding our home of mice – I wanted to live near the river didn’t I? Shout out to Ontario Wildlife Removal – humane treatments and no more mice. I also had time to slow down and complete a thought, which isn’t always as great as one would think. I had time to look at my part and my actions, or non actions for that matter, in my life – and anyone who knows me knows how much I LOVE admitting a short coming or realizing where I’ve screwed up. My child has had many a knock on their door from me just to hear me say “I have another thing to apologize for” upon opening their door. If I can offer any advice on parenting, it’s this. Listen to your kids and apologize to them. It doesn’t matter how you feel about what they are saying, trust me, it can really suck. As parents, we have to acknowledge our kids feelings and recollections of what transpired. There will be time later to excavate the past, but the dig cannot begin until you let them talk, and I’ll say it again, it can really suck, BUT! the connection after is so worth it. All that to say, yes, I was “busy”, but still wasn’t writing, still making excuses why I couldn’t, still not listening to my knowing.

Tomorrow my father goes in for heart surgery. He is in good health, his ol’ ticker needs some help, which he will be receiving tomorrow, triple by pass and valve repair – and because we’re in Canada, all we have to worry about is paying for parking and my Dad’s recovery. Over the past few days, many dear friends have been struggling, aging parents, loss of a child, divorce. Maybe that’s why I decided to listen to my knowing today. Maybe today’s tale will make someone smile, feel seen, feel less alone. I know I feel less alone when I write. I feel the hug of my Gramma Leah when I write, I feel as though her hands are on my shoulders and she’s looking over my shoulder waiting to see what words will appear next. (I do know she isn’t fond of my curse words.). I can’t explain it, nor do I wish to. It’s magical.

Listen to your knowing. I know it’s scary, trust me. I know it seems easier to push it away. It’s telling you who you are, what will help you, where the answers you’re looking for are. It’s your magic waiting for you to be magical.

Beauty, health and wellness, lifestyle, Menopause, Women

Taking a pause?

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It’s been a minute. My last post was almost 9 months ago to the day – and NO! I did not have a baby or was I pregnant, and NO! my 27 year old did not have a baby, so no gramma over here either. Funny how the mind equates 9 months with pregnancy/babies. I’ve been on the fence about writing again, and today, I thought, screw it, so here I am. I did not plan on writing today, and I find it quite funny that this post lands almost 9 months to the day of my last post and I’m about to talk about menopause. Well played universe, well played.

To be clear, I am not an expert, nor am I an M.D.. I am however a woman dealing with the lovely and oh so wonderous effects of menopause. It’s been super fun as I had a partial hysterectomy (still have the ol’ ovaries) 15 years ago, so I don’t have the early warning system of my cycle ending. I do believe I may have jinxed myself as I would proudly profess how I had no ill effects of such an early hysterectomy. Once again, the universe has a sense of humor. Over the past year I’ve had an array of adventures from insomnia, mood swings that would put a teenager to shame, weight gain from looking at a cookie, brain fog, forgetting what I was, what was I gonna write? (you gotta laugh), forgetting what seemed like everything, but not all the time, oh and my all time favorite night sweats that are so bad I thought I pissed the bed, yes, I said pissed the bed, keeping it real. I realized after one fun night of three night sweat episodes that it was time to make myself a priority. I had put everyone else’s needs in higher priority than my own. Loved ones facing physical and mental health issues, aging parents, job loss – a story for another time, I kept telling myself “it’ll pass.”. It didn’t and it hasn’t.

So I called my Doctor. When I arrived at my appointment I told her how I’d been feeling, the night sweats etc…, and that I didn’t have the get up and go that I normally have. I admitted I hadn’t been exercising as I should and that yes, I still smoke. I know, I know! I am quitting. I have cut down the amount I smoke by half and am planning to be done with it by the end of the month. I don’t drink, I don’t do drugs, I don’t gamble – give this menopausal woman something. Back to my appointment. I asked my doctor for a total blood work up, it’s been 2 years since my last one, to check my thyroid levels since I am dependent on medication due to my thyroidectomy. Also to check my hormones. She looked at me and said “Your hysterectomy was quite a while ago, with no issues.”, to which I told her, “well there’s a subscription to the issues now.”. Reminded her I still have my ovaries and the family history of ovarian cancer and early hysterectomies. She began to tell me options, such as hormone replacements and the various types and then added that the body ages and in the past women just dealt with it and the body adapted. Pardon me? What was that? Just as I had finished looking around her office for a caveman to pop out from the corner, I was offered another alternative! Anti depressants! Because you know, “many women find it helpful when they feel overwhelmed with everything.”. Once my head stopped spinning I told her no thank you, to which I was told “they are not addictive”. After asking about the side effects and almost spun into that web, I once again said no and told her I would like the bloodwork done first and to see where all my levels were at, including my hormone levels. Spoiler alert! My hormone levels weren’t on the bloodwork requisition. I have a follow up appointment this week, so I’m gonna try this again.

*to be clear, I have no issues with anti depressants. They have helped many who I hold near and dear. I do have issues with them being given out like Pez from a Pez dispenser.

So, why tell you about this? Selfishly to help myself, and also to hopefully help someone else. That someone will see their story in mine. If you’re between 35 – 55, hormones are our friends and our foes. To remind you and me to speak up, to advocate for ourselves. That it is just fine to question your doctor, and that you are not crazy! Our hormones are needed for brain health and mental and physical health. I highly recommend Dr. Mary Claire Haver MD. You can find her on Instagram and all socials.

I’m not sure where all this is going to lead, I do know knowledge is power and it’s up to us to embrace our power, plain and simple.

Beauty, health and wellness, lifestyle, parenting, That girl in the red coat, Uncategorized, Women

Enough already

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Here we are, the final month of 2023. The holiday season is ramping up. Holiday parties, secret Santa’s, office parties, primary school’s “dress as your favorite decoration” day…ugh, don’t miss those days. Everyone rushing around, stressing over the “perfect gift” as they are also stressing over how to pay for the groceries this week. …don’t even get me started on the price of EVERYTHING these days. Watching and listening to people, those I hold dear and those I see on Facebook and Instagram worrying if it’s enough, if they’ll have enough, if they are enough.

This past year, hell, these past three years (thank you Covid), have kicked my ass…and can kiss my ass for that matter. I know I’m known for my positive spins and am a believer of looking on the bright side of life. Always trying to find the good in any situation. That gratitude will help you reach your destination. I’ve also come to realize that a good ol’ dose of “Fuck this Shit!” has it’s medicinal purpose. I find it quite healing actually, quite good for my mental and emotional health. A visit to Fuck this Shit Ville. It’s a place I go to when it’s all too much. I recommend little visits to this destination, I do not recommend setting up camp there. I’ve done both, the latter is not a welcoming neighborhood. (Hence my last blog entry being in February…oops).

Many a thing has happened to yours truly this year. Some good, some great and some, well, imagine a kick to the crotch. Those tales will be for another time. The purpose for today’s post is this, to remind myself and you, my beloved readers, that I am and you are enough. We are. No matter what your boss says, your mother in law (mine’s lovely thank god) says, Facebook and Instagram says, you are enough. Your enough will never be the same as mine or anyone else’s on any given day. Give yourself some grace. The world is upside down, it seems more than it’s ever been. It seems everything is increasing except for plain old compassion and kindness. * As for bosses making you feel like you aren’t enough, or doing enough, more often than not, it’s because they themselves are not doing enough, and shit rolls down hill. Just sayin’.

We all feel like we have Mount Everest in front of us. Something my daughter reminded me of, if you’re climbing Everest everyday, there’s a problem. No one can do that. So today, I’m here to give you, and myself, permission to have our own definition of enough. Being me, as you know, a lover of lists, if you did any of the following, or didn’t, it’s enough.

  • you got out of bed
  • you fed yourself
  • you fed your child
  • you went to work not knowing how you’d make it through your shift
  • you made that call you didn’t want to make
  • you told someone how you are feeling
  • you took care of an aging parent even though it scares you to do so
  • you washed the dishes
  • you did the laundry
  • you watched your favorite show
  • you listened to your favorite podcast
  • you listened to your favorite song on repeat to soothe your soul
  • you opened the mail
  • you figured out how to pay the water bill and get groceries
  • you kept your hope for a better day ahead

I know I haven’t even scratched the surface on how long this list could be. Hopefully it resonated with you or gave you an idea of your own “enough” accomplishment today. I don’t know if it’s the state of the world, menopause, getting to the age of 51 and having no tolerance for bullshit and inauthenticity, or seeing and hearing so many of those that I hold dear beating themselves up about being “enough”. I just gotta give my opinion about this. As I type this, I hear those who know me well saying “ummm….You’ve always stated your opinion Sara”. True enough.

Beauty, health and wellness, lifestyle, Sunday Confessions, That girl in the red coat, Women, writing

Sunday Confessions

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I don’t know about you, but for yours truly, the past 3 years have kicked my ass. Emotionally, physically, mentally and spiritually. These are the main perpetrators of my year hiatus from the blog. I literally couldn’t write anything. I would just look at my laptop, my closed laptop, and feel nothing. Oh, I had feelings, emotions, opinions up the wazoo, yet, when it came to actually sitting down and writing…nada. Until this week. The powers that be, the universe, Jesus, the Smurfs, whomever you choose, helped to light the fire in me once again. So as I sat down at my desk, plugged in my laptop, dusted it off, the universe and it’s infinite humor, reminded me to have patience and ask for help.

I don’t know if you know this, but when you don’t turn on a laptop for over a year, a 12 year old laptop, it um, doesn’t like it. So, there I was, starting, restarting, googling on my phone whatever I thought I should google, from laptop stuck in update loop, to laptop not loading new chrome, to 12 year old laptop not loading, to which my screen went black with the little arrow swirling around. Yes, I do believe my laptop and google were mocking me. Thankfully, the hubby is handsome and handy, and I begrudgingly limped up the stairs (twisted my knee in my sleep, welcome to 50, another tale for another time) and said “Honey, can you help me?”. …and since I’m writing, you know how the story ends. After asking for help, allowing myself to receive said help, and 1.5 hours later, without a tantrum from yours truly, my laptop loaded up and here I am.

I really didn’t have a plan for today’s tale. Looks like the universe gave me one. Those who know me, know all too well I can be hyper independent, some may say stubborn. I am not great at asking for help, and as for patience? Whew. It took 47 years and a goddamn pandemic to teach me that one. That being said, I gotta say, I’m proud of myself today. I asked for help, I took deep breaths and had patience. I didn’t take the laptop fiasco of 2023 personally. I took accountability of said fiasco, because it was me and me alone that did not open my laptop. Did I yell? Nope. Did I get mad at my husband? Nope. Did my palms sweat? Yep. Did my stomach hurt? Hell yeah. Did I get through it? You bet your ass I did. There was a time, I would have blamed Bill Gates himself for my technical issues. I would have either thrown my laptop in the trash and furiously ordered a new one or thrown it out and repeated over and over “See!?! Proof you shouldn’t blog again!” until I forced myself to believe it. Thankfully those days are gone. Gone but not forgotten.

That’s the thing about old habits, they try to rear their heads every once in a while. Right when you think you have your shit together, and you “got this!”, BAM! Your stomach starts to hurt, you feel a little sick and you feel yourself going back to your old ways, because they are what you know, as uncomfortable as they are, you feel comfort from the familiarity. It’s so screwed up, I know.

I’m not an expert, nor a guru on the mount. I’m here to tell you, we are all works in progress. If you’re reading this, you’re alive and you’re here, you made it another day. We have successfully made it through another day. We all have our own shit to deal with, let alone the shit of others. We are all flawed and we are all fabulous. It’s time to give yourself some grace. Take some deep breaths, and some more. Dance around your kitchen like a fool. Get outside, even for 5 minutes. .. and before you throw out a laptop, ask for help.

Beauty, health and wellness, lifestyle, That girl in the red coat, writing

Tales of Truth – The Covid Diaries

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First things first. To all the health care workers, I don’t know how you’ve done this for over a year now. I’m in awe of you all. Thank you is not a strong enough sentiment.

In my part of the world, we have been in lockdown since Boxing day 2020. A stay at home order was imposed early January and fingers crossed it is supposed to be lifted February 10th. Although I work retail, our store sells shoes and safety footwear to essential/front line workers, so yours truly has been working the entire time. We are open by appointment only for front line/essential workers and for any other customer, we are offering curbside pick up. Yep, selling shoes curbside, in Canada, in the winter. Yep, it’s different to say the least. I try not to complain, for I am still working, shortened hours, but working none the less. My boss treats us to coffee, takes over any irrational customers, in person or on the phone, we can take as many breaks as we need, I am fortunate and I know it. That being said, it’s been, interesting. At the end of my 6 hour shift I feel as if I’ve come off a 12 hour shift. Physically I’m fine, mentally, I’ve hit a wall. Curbside sales are now handled via text, email, phone call or facetime. At any given time I have 3 phones on me… I feel like a cross between a stock broker and drug dealer.

The majority of customers have been great. Patient, kind and grateful for the service we are providing. Unfortunately, of course, being retail, there have been some customers that make Karen seem like Mary Poppins. Being me, I’m gonna let you have a glimpse behind the curtain and share some of the experiences of my co-workers and myself. I can’t make this shit up.

  • at least once a day we receive a call from someone wanting to come in the store. We ask them if they are working and when they say no, we explain we offer curbside and that instore shopping is by appointment only and for essential/frontline workers. Then they proceed to ask us to lie for them. Yep. They actually say “Can’t you just say I’m essential, I really want new running shoes and I always try on at least 10 pairs to find the perfect one.”.
  • We’ve had people come in for a scheduled appointment turn around and tell us they are retired, that they aren’t working. *Cue manager intervention and direction to curbside service.
  • We’ve been yelled at and the f-shot shouted at us over the phone because the customer thinks the “lockdown/stay at home order is bullshit!”. …sigh
  • We have to tell customers to put their mask on when we deliver their shoes curbside.
  • I’ve been told I don’t know what I’m talking about when I explain the lockdown/stay at home restrictions and regulations
  • Many products are on back order, because of Covid. At least three times a day, myself or one of my co-workers is yelled at because of it. My favorite retort is “That’s what you said when I called on Sunday!” …we are closed Sundays.
  • When we take the purchases out to the cars, it’s so much fun when the customers exclaim “Sure is cold eh? You gotta be freezing!” and continue to chat as they are in the warm car. Sometimes I inch forward in hopes of catching some heat from their vents.

As I said earlier, most of the customers have been great. Grateful for their new footwear so they can go to work and get the job done. Jumping out of their cars, mask on to get the boxes from us so we don’t have to be outside longer than needed. Tipping us for our service. Asking us how we are doing. I had a gentleman ask if he could go get me a coffee. Elderly customers telling me I brightened their day, staying on the phone with them for 30 minutes helping them replace their slippers.

I can’t believe it’s been a year that I’ve been writing about Covid retail. A year. Although it’s been tough, and dealing with the public hasn’t been the thrill ride of my life, I do have to say, every day, at least one person, a perfect stranger shines a ray of hope into my day. Genuine kindness expressed. Genuine concern and compassion has been shown. Yes, we need a vaccine. Yes, we need to wear a mask. Yes, we need to sanitize/wash our hands, and yes, especially now, a year into this pandemic, kindness can be a cure too. Kindness may not cure a virus, but it can cure a beaten down spirit. It can bring warmth to your heart and a smile to your face. One of my favorite quotes goes a little something like this, “Your kindness may be the only glimpse of god someone see’s today.”. A simple act of kindness can give someone the energy to keep going, give them hope of better days to come. Be kind, plain and simple.

Beauty, communication, health and wellness, lifestyle, parenting, Sunday Confessions, That girl in the red coat, Women

Sunday Confessions

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I have a confession to make. A confession of non guilt. I no longer feel guilty about putting myself first. Yes, you read that correctly. I am a woman, a wife, a mother and a daughter who no longer feels guilty about putting myself first and making my mental, emotional and physical health a priority. Before those who know me well call me out about “health”, yes, I still smoke, I’m working on it. Rome wasn’t built in a day.

Last night I had the gift of free time. No dinner to make – thank you left overs. An early out of my shift – thank you Covid. My daughter busy mastering her craft. My hubby driving out of town for his weekly check in on his Momma. As I sat down to Netflix and VegOut, I found myself thinking about caretakers. How as women, we are designated this position without any consultation. We are told that’s how we are wired, that it’s in our DNA. That it’s selfish to want, it’s selfish to fill our plate first. That a good wife puts her man first. That a good mother makes sure the needs of her children come before her own. I call bullshit.

I’m here to tell you, from personal and agonizing experience, putting others first and yourself last helps no one, least of all yourself. Sooner or later resentment sets in and BAM! Unnecessary arguments with your spouse, temper tantrum competitions with your children, tears and hurt feelings to all and from all who surround you. All you’ll be left with is puffy eyes, a headache, a sore stomach, feeling like you’re the worst person in the world and your loved ones walking on eggshells in fear of waking the beast and you all wondering “What the hell was that?”. You know what it was, because you know you didn’t make yourself a priority. Your loved ones have no clue, because they don’t know that to put them first you chose to put yourself last. Yep. I said it. You chose to put yourself last. Hey, I did it for 3 1/2 decades, no judgment. I’m here to tell you, don’t waste anymore time and emotional turmoil. I’m here to tell you it’s okay to put yourself first. The world will not open up and swallow you whole. Those who love you will not leave you. Mouths will still be fed and beds will be made.

Now before you declare to your family that they are “on your own bitches!” that is not the moral of this post. Take a breath. Again. Better? Okay. Those familiar with my blog know all to well how I adore lists. So being me, I’ve compiled some guilt free self care, put yourself first tips. PYFT’s if you will.

  • before you get out of bed, make yourself think of one thing you are grateful for. Just one. Let yourself begin your day with a grateful heart.
  • once the coffee is brewed or the tea is steeped, pour yourself the first cup every so often.
  • eat the last donut
  • have your shower first
  • light a candle or turn on your Scentsy warmer as you’re packing lunches. Surround yourself with your favorite scent, even if just for 5 minutes
  • put on your favorite tunes, past and present while washing the ever present dishes. For full effect – put your ear buds in and shake your booty.
  • get outside. Even it’s for 5 minutes. Every morning I make myself go outside and just stand in my backyard. Sometimes I take pictures with my phone. Sometimes I just stand there. I feel better and it gives my neighbours a hobby.
  • watch your favorite shows or movies. I don’t care if you’ve already watched it twice in a month. If it makes you happy, watch it.
  • start reading. Asks your friends if they want to do a book swap. Educate yourself. Enlighten yourself. Escape your reality for a moment. Even a page a day makes a difference. It does.
  • start using your fancy creams and soaps.
  • treat yourself to professional shampoo, conditioner and treatment. Trust me on this one. A good hair day goes a long way. If your hubby can spend $30 on his “phone game” and your kids can make you remortgage your house for Minecraft, you can have great hair.
  • create a vision board. Physically or virtually – gotta love Pinterest. Make yourself something that when you look at it, you feel joy.
  • make a Jello. When you open the fridge, you’ll see something you did, something you accomplished. My gramma Leah knew what’s what. … or a cake, or cookies or whatever your favorite treat is.

It’s time to become your own caretaker. No guilt. No shame. Putting yourself first and practicing self care makes you a better caretaker of others.

Merriam-Webster defines caretaker as “one that gives physical or emotional care and support.”. I looked up many other definitions from various dictionaries and not one definition reads “one that gives physical or emotional care and support only to others and not themselves.”.

communication, health and wellness, lifestyle, parenting, That girl in the red coat

Hindsight is 2020

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“For last year’s words belong to last year’s language and next year’s words await another voice.”. – T.S. Eliot.

Here we are. The first day of a new year. January 2021. I woke up this morning after sleeping through the night, a rarity this past year. I wandered into the kitchen, started the coffee maker, looked at the calendar with a sigh of relief, for 2020 was officially over. I ripped that sucker down and gently placed my new calendar in it’s place. Nothing quite like a new calendar, fresh paper and dates open to endless possibilities. As I went to throw out the old calendar, still in my “clean slate New Year’s morning bliss”, I was catapulted back to reality with a full garbage and dirty dishes all over the counter. … a reminder that the more things change, the more they stay the same, #momperks #wifeperks. I used to get so angry about that, an overflowing garbage can, dirty dishes piled up on the counter, now… not so much. Trust me when I say I still have my “I am the only one who see’s this?!” moments, they are becoming far and few between. Mostly I’ve taken to Instagram stories to get my vent on. I call them my “keeping it real” posts. There’s one today if you’re interested.

Anywho, back to the tale at hand. I don’t know about you, but wherever I turn, Instagram, Facebook, Twitter, text, zoom, facetime, TikTok, you name it, there it is. You have the “fuck you 2020” posts or the “thank you 2020” posts. Today’s post is a little bit of both. You know me, it’s all about balance. Here in Ontario, we are into our second week of a lockdown. It began Boxing day. I am still working, as my store is deemed essential since we supply safety shoes, etc. We are open by appointment only for essential workers and curbside for anyone else. Let me tell you, selling shoes curbside is a trip, a trip to the Bermuda triangle. Grateful for my job, not so grateful for the ever changing policies and procedures. Balance.

This past year has taught me patience and how to let things go. It took 48 years on this planet and a global pandemic, but I finally learned patience and thanks to Elsa, and Snoop Dogg, I have a new personal anthem. (Google Snoop Dogg frozen… trust me, it’s awesome). Beginning in March, I had no say in my job, my hours, where I could go or what I could do or when or if I would have time alone in my own home. Shops were closed. Quarantine was in place. No hugs. No visits. Nada. So, I finally took my own advice that I spew out to all those I hold dear, and controlled the only thing I could, myself. When I started to feel the tightness in my shoulders and chest about having to get things done, I took a deep breath, or twenty, and let it go. I couldn’t visit friends, but I could drop off a goodie bag. Like nicky, nicky, nine door for adults. Ring the bell and run like hell. I couldn’t have my parents over for dinner, but I could go to the grocery store for them. I couldn’t celebrate life’s great and small achievements of those I hold dear and the special moments of their children, but I could send flowers, or an edible arrangement as an unexpected surprise. I’m a fixer, by nature, I just am. This past year has taught me that sometimes the best thing you can do to fix a situation is nothing. More often than not, listening is the best tool to fix any situation. My daughter and my husband like their solitude. It took me a long time to respect that and not take it personally… I’m a Leo, what can I say? This past year, instead of worrying that something was wrong, I took it upon myself to enjoy the quiet and allow myself some solitude too. … Oh yeah, I still peeked my head in my daughter’s room at least once a day with a typical “How ya doin?” mom tone, or a “Hey baby” from across the room to my hubby. Balance.

The biggest personal realization about 2020 that I’ve had? I’m a little full of shit. Yep. All those years I said “I don’t have time!”. Guess what, I did, and I do. I finally got around to all those things I “didn’t have time” for, like framing prints, organizing my kitchen, getting paperwork in order, cleaning the garage… all of the above only took 4 hours. Guess what sunshine, you did have time, you just believed you didn’t.

The toughest realization was and continues to be that not everyone sees injustice. 2020 brought some ugly truths to the forefront of our lives, unfortunately many refuse to see it. I for one see it and will continue to try to help others see it too. I will continue to say Black Lives Matter. I will continue to speak the names of George Floyd, Breonna Taylor, Ahmaud Arbery and so many others. I will continue to share and speak of the injustice set upon the Native community. I will continue to share and speak of the inequality of those with disabilities, of women’s rights, human rights. I will continue to share and speak for those without a voice. I will continue to share uplifting news, motivational quotes from Oprah, Mel Robbins, Tank Good News and other personal favorites. I will continue to share music to feed your soul. For those who don’t agree with me, that’s okay. I get it. This is my journey. That is yours. I wish you safe travels. Balance.

The events of 2020 are to be remembered, not re-lived. We are more alike than different. We all deserve to be heard, to be seen, to matter. The actions of one can affect the lives of others, be it positive or negative. We may not all be in the same boat, we are all in the same ocean. Throw a life preserver when you can, and ask for one when you need one. Wear a mask. Seriously, wear a mask. At the end of the day, wouldn’t it feel great to know you that you may have saved a life. That you may have kept a roof over the head of a family because wearing a mask kept the breadwinner of that household healthy. That you thought of someone other than yourself. Trust me, it feels pretty damn good.

I came across a quote that fits me and this past year, “I’m mostly peace, love and light. … and a little go fuck yourself.”. Balance.

Beauty, communication, Hair Care, lifestyle, That girl in the red coat

Empty chairs

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Today’s tale is for all the stylists out there. In the best of times, many struggle to keep clients in the chair. In the time of Covid 19, now more than ever, client retention is more important than ever. As you know, I am not a licensed stylist. I have (physically) been out of the Salon and Beauty Biz for more than 4 years now, and although I am no longer in the Salon, every day, and I mean every day, I receive a text, an email or a face to face question, “What product should I use on my hair?”. When I ask them “What did your stylist suggest?” more often than not, I’m sad to say, their stylist either gave them no advice at all or told them to pick up their products at, gulp, Walmart.

I have covered this situation many times in the past. The following blogs were some of the more popular ones;

If you are a stylist…you are a sales person

…my stylist said…

A conversation between two people

Here’s the deal. When your clients are sitting in your chair, they are putting their trust in you. Plain and Simple. Trusting you will help them like their reflection once again. Trusting you will be honest with them about which cut is best for them, how to manage and maintain their new color. Trusting that they will be taught how to achieve the same look and feel to their hair once they leave the Salon. The only way your client will be able to achieve this is with the proper products and the proper styling techniques, from how to blow dry their hair and how many products they will need. Some styles only need one product, some styles need multiple products and styling tools. As a stylist, it’s up to you to teach them. To educate your client on what’s what with products and the importance of using the correct one.

In the past 4 months I have personally spoken to 8 women who were looking for a new stylist because they did not like their hair, their stylist didn’t listen to them and just did what they thought was best, or because, I’m sad to say, their stylists made them feel stupid, or blamed the client for their hair being a mess. I told them to give their stylist one more chance, with a caveat. I give them a list of things to ask/tell their stylist. Remember, you are paying for a service, you are allowed to ask questions or give opinions, politely of course. Tell your stylist what you like and do not like. If you don’t like to use a blow dryer at home, tell them. If your unsure about styling techniques, ask them to show you. Wondering why you are never told what products to use? Ask them to show you what products they suggest. Ask them about the product they just used on your hair. If the stylist isn’t open to a conversation or questions, you now know it’s time to move on to another chair.

Beauty, health and wellness, That girl in the red coat, Women

Giving Thanks

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It’s Thanksgiving in Canada. As I was having my coffee this morning, I had a feeling something was missing. A feeling of something left undone, forgotten. I have been feeling this way almost everyday lately. With everything happening in the world from the ever present Covid 19, the always infuriating Trump, the continued injustice of black, minority and indigenous people, it’s safe to say my mind has been spinning and I have been finding it hard to focus. So, I went about my morning, getting the laundry in the washer, starting meal prep, having a social distanced coffee with my folks, the usual “day off” routine. Yup, no turkey prep for this gal. We do not celebrate Thanksgiving in the traditional sense since my hubby had a heart attack 9 years ago on Thanksgiving weekend. Back to the tale at hand. As I was going through the motions of my routine I still had that aching feeling I was forgetting something. To be honest, I knew what it was I was forgetting. I’ve known everyday. I wasn’t writing.

My last entry was May 24th. I had just returned to work. Jesus, I thought retail before Covid was interesting… . Those of you familiar with my blog, (9 years of loyal following, thank you), know I tell it like it is. Well, this is how it is. I haven’t written in over 4 months for two reasons. 1 – I’ve been pissed off. 2 – I didn’t trust myself because of my anger. I didn’t want to come across as a raving lunatic. I didn’t want to upset the apple cart. I didn’t want to lose the following I have. This morning, as I stepped outside for a cigarette… yes, I’m still smoking, let’s move on, I finally listened to the advice I’ve been dishing to everyone else. I’m a “helper” as Brene Brown says. I love to help everyone, from boosting up their self esteem to making sure they have enough toilet paper. … Covid …who knew? The one person I don’t seem to help enough is me. So, this is me, helping me, and hopefully you as well. (I told you I was a helper).

I am in no way an expert, nor a guru on the mount. What I am is a 48 year old woman who has made her share of mistakes, had her share of triumphs and defeats. I am a woman who’s life isn’t how I pictured it would be, whose been thrown curve balls and sucker punches and lived to tell the tale. I’ve been (and sometimes still am) a woman who worries what others think, if I’m disappointing anyone. I’m a mother who worries if I did all I could for my daughter while she was growing up. I’m a woman who has been married 26 years and finds herself wondering how so much has changed yet stayed the same. I’m a woman who is quick with a sassy remark, and also, a woman who, I’m sorry to say, can be quick to judge.

Thanks to Covid, I’m a human being trying to get through each changing day, trying to keep my head above water and not make Covid the only thing I focus on. I’m a woman who’s here to tell you that you are not alone. We all have moments of doubt, of fear, of hopelessness. Believe it or not, that is what I’m most thankful for. As I see it, those moments are the moments that prove we are all the same. Shred away the bravado, the ego, we are all just, in the words of June Carter Cash, “trying to matter.”. If we are all the same, maybe, just maybe, that means we can have each other’s back.