Soggy Cookies and Wet Floors

"Mmmm, these are crunchy!" My six-year-old says to my friend's sister-in-law, who brought cookies to the pool recently.

I was impressed. "Our cookies and crackers seem to soften the second they come into our house."

"It's the humidity. An east coast thing," she said, knowing I was from the west. "Put put your stuff in plastic containers."

What? I thought. The humidity softens crackers? I was in unfamiliar territory again, a feeling I thought I was past, given that we've now lived a full year in New Jersey.

Then I recalled the conversation I had with my husband earlier this week, shortly after returning from vacation. "Do you remember turning on the humidifier in the basement and setting it on that rubbermaid lid before you left?" He said.

"Yes. I heard it would be humid," I replied.

"You were right. I went down there and water overflowed all over the floor."

"What? How much moisture can their be in the air?"

"Obviously more than you thought."

"On the new carpet?"

"No, just the concrete."

Unbelievable. The dehumidifier was left by the last homeowners. Clearly there was a reason for it.

Soggy cookies and wet floors. Who knew humidity was more than just extra heat in the air?

Not me. I've only lived here a year.

It can't be this hot - I have too much to do!

There is a reason we feel overwhelmed on hot summer days. Time is still ticking. The to-do list builds yet we don't have the energy to finish our tasks.

The heat saps our energy, forcing us to sit still by the pool, drink iced tea and thumb through an Oprah or People magazine. Reading needs to be light. Nothing too soul searching or academic. Our brains seem to also slow down in the humid heat.

Today is forecasted to be 96 degrees, but feel like 108. I don't think I've been in soaking wet heat like this before. We haven't lived on the east coast long enough to experience it.

Last night we walked home from our neighbors' house at 11pm. The evening was tropical, damp. The crickets and chicadas were creating a cacaphony of song. It reminded me of my first visit to the Mexican riviera with my husband, where a loose dress over a bathing suit was the only outfit that wouldn't stick in the heat. Last night was barely 80 degrees.

Today is Saturday, fortunately. It is family day. Having just returned from vacation our to-do list also includes weeding, mowing the lawn, laundry, organizing our vacation photos and catching up on my writing.

In this heat, I think we'll forget that to-do list and create another: sit by the pool, drink iced tea and read a magazine. No guilt. Just family time.

How about you?

Our Body Gives Us the Cues - It's Up to Us to Listen

Do you listen to your body when it says, "slow down," or "this is too much?" Or perhaps your aches and pains have become a normal part of life that you simply endure.

I used to ignore headaches, body aches, and sore throats, preferring to treat the symptom while I continued my life as if the pain didn't exist.

I recall procrastinating in my University studies, then cramming the hours in prior to a big test. During midterms, I would get a mild sore throat, then after they were over, my body would shut down and I would get the flu, bronchitis or strep throat. This happened like clockwork. For three years. In the fourth year I got smart and actually studied well ahead of time so that the pressure of cramming didn't manifest into a body illness breakdown.


A while ago I started to listen to my body as if it was trying to tell me something. By doing this, I've minimized sick days and had fewer painful symptoms.

I haven't eliminated all symptoms, but I catch them before they get out of control. Now I notice a sore throat when it first starts and examine what triggered it. While I figure out the trigger and what I need to do to get rid of it, I go to the cupboard and take out sore throat tea (I like the one by Traditional Medicinals) and make myself a cup. By doing this I accomplish two things: I treat the symptom with something more natural acetominophen or sugary sore throat lozenges, and I give my body time to slow down and rest, even if only for 20 minutes.

By listening to my symptoms I've figured out what they mean. I grind my teeth when I feel stress from a large to-do list, packing for vacation, or end of school year activities. A sore throat tells me I haven't been expressing myself fully, communicating clearly or have been unable to tell someone something I need to. A headache signals lack of control over some business circumstance. Breaking nails are the same but worse.

At this moment my jaw hurts from nighttime grinding. I also have a minor sore throat. We are on vacation. It is very busy as we fit in time with many friends and family members. And I find time slipping away quickly, as I try to catch up on news and connect after over a year's absence.

How do I know what each pain means and what to do?

First, I don't automatically assume a pain is related to the latest virus going around. Our family eats healthy, sleeps well and doesn't catch most of the viruses we see (mostly).

I ask myself, "what could be bothering me right now?"

Sometimes I ask, "have I not been my authentic self?" "When?" A lack of authenticity is a big source of people's stress these days. When one needs to restrain their comments for fear of offending or annoying a family member, or when they need to be careful what words they use because their beliefs are entirely different from their close friend, they cannot authentically express themselves. When I cannot be authentic, I get a sore throat, or sometimes a headache.

What to do with that sore throat or headache?

Treat the symptom holistically. Take care of the symptom, then take care of the whole self.

Sore throat? As mentioned above, I drink sore throat tea. If I don't have it, I drink a glass of cool water.Then I do something regenerating: a walk, reading a good book, writing. I do not force my voice into conversation, or force myself to be heard. I focus on listening to others.

Headache? A shoulder or neck massage loosens the muscles around the head. I bend my head forward and let the back of my neck stretch out. I massage my temples. Then I drink lots of water, for sometimes dehydration leads to headaches, and I take time away from whatever gave me the headache in the first place.

Stomache aches and pains are some people's achilles heel. Some suggestions? Eat less (so the stomache has less work to do), and eat natural foods: fruit, vegetables, whole grains. Drink more water. Reduce stress or move away from the source temporarily, even for 15 minutes. Distractions work for some too, as does a bit of extra sleep.

Everyone has their own triggers and their own solutions. I like the resources from Prevention Magazine, both paper and online versions.

It is up to you to decide how to reduce your own stress. But to cure your body's ailments, listen to it.

Cautious? You’re Missing Out

A question has been repeating in my head: "Why am I so stuck?"
I was recently at a Laura Day's NYC workshop. We were told to silently ask a question to receive an intuitive answer. "Perfect. I know just the question," I thought. She told me, "You want to go from A straight to Z, yet you need to do B first."

Instantly and intuitively I knew "B." Hard work and focused effort. There are no short cuts with where I want to go. But the next day a second solution also presented itself. "B" also involves taking risks.

Cautious or Passionate?

Today I listened to David and Kristin Morelli's podcast on Passion with Chris Attwood. Passion gets your heart beating faster. It involves both fear and spontaneity. We hesitate to follow our passion because of both.

David reiterated a turning point for him. "I always stayed on the highway of life, never taking risks or chances. Then one day while driving from University to California for the summer, my friend suggested we get off the highway and explore this mountain. I never did anything off my well planned path. I was always cautious. I felt nervous, but did it anyways."*

He felt passionate and alive in the spontaneity of that moment. "I can remember it as one of the greatest, clearest moments of that trip."

I know how he feels, usually playing the safe route, never veering off course. I grew up to be cautious, to be responsible and to think before I act. Now that I am a mother, I teach my children the same thing so that they remain safe and aware. While safety is important, it doesn't leave much room for spontaneous fun.

Our children are amazing, spur-of-the-moment people. Our daughter will burst into song while eating breakfast. Our son will start rolling a ball on the table while eating dinner. They tease each other constantly, or try to get our big black lab to chase a new reflection or house fly, always laughing from deep in their belly. Both my husband and I want to laugh. However, responsibility quickly kicks in and we tell our daughter to get back to eating breakfast or our son to put the ball away until after dinner.

I know it is our role to raise good conscious citizens and remind them to be polite. But are we are sucking the life out of our passionate selves when we don't leave more room for spontaneous activity and laughter?

Passion is always there if you know where to look.

There have been times in my life that I had moments, even weeks, of spontaneous activity. Those moments are still clear and alive in my mind. One autumn I spent every weekend for almost two months skydiving out of a plane. It was such a source of passion that, during childbirth, I asked my husband to coach me back through the experience, visualizing it vividly, transforming the pain. Earlier in my life I recall loudly singing a song while driving, windows down, when a car full of guys ten years younger drove by. They laughed and waved, and almost joined in on the song. It was a moment sparked with life. These days when we travel there is always time for spontaneity, but I don't have it at home.

However, when I think back through my career, it seems that I've unconsciously stepped off the path at the right time. Because I've been open to opportunities and willing to change direction when something new came into view, I've had a rewarding passionate career. Now in a different phase of my career, I must remember this, for myself and for my children.

So I resolve to get unstuck. The rewards of stepping off the beaten path far outnumber the concerns. If I'm to do this, there are a couple things I've learned:

1. Hard work helps you to stay on course, but leave room for new opportunities.
2. Take action, for spontaneity has its own rewards.
3. Consciously find time to be spontaneous. Plan it until it is natural.
4. Children will learn responsibility, but they must also learn to love life. Always being careful does not give them permission to explore, learn and grow on their own path.

I'm travelling with my children to visit family and friends. Though I will carve out time to work hard, it is time for me to be passionately spontaneous.
*edited for brevity