I don’t want to throw my kids under the bus, but I guess I will. They’re a lot like I was as a kid: independent, creative, and terrible at stopping whatever they’re doing to do chores (and I mean terrible). I’m pretty sure it’s just a part of human design. But as someone who is very sensitive, with a pretty strong PDA profile (aka pervasive drive for autonomy, aka pathological demand avoidance), I do my best to try to collaborate with my kids so they learn how to get things done (chores, homewor

I’m writing this at the airport on my way to visit family. Ever since my early teenage years, I have had this belief that if I can imagine my future, I will live to see it. So, on the rare occurrence that I struggle to visualize it (e.g., right before a move, job changes or an international gig), I tend to get panicky. I know it’s just my anxiety. It’s also my need for a false sense of control - my desire for plans I won’t necessarily follow, but that I will make obsessively anyway.

Remember how I told you the cell towers were down? Apparently, people had to knock on doors in the neighborhood to find someone with a landline from a different provider just to call 911. It took 45 minutes for first responders to show up. When you’re in that much pain, every minute feels like a lifetime. Thank God for Kate.