One semester down, six to go. Here are my top 5 takeaways from this first semester of nursing school in French. I LOVE sociology. Like...LOVE sociology. Up to this point, I have a 100% in the class. I cannot believe it. I am so proud of myself. I also love psychology, and I'm surprised that my school teaches and models guided meditation for stress management. Like, what? Where were these tools when I was going to high school in the late 90s, early 2000? Oh yeah. Nevermind. French is hard, but... I love it, and that surprises me because I never really wanted to learn it before now. I also created some cheatsheets for myself, which I'll post below. Life experience absolutely counts for something when you're an older student. I don't know why I thought it might not have much to contribute to my learning experience - but as it turns out, my views and experience really helped me this semester. It made learning so much easier. Organization is absolutely necessary for surviving school. So many of my colleagues are disorganized, papers everywhere, broken pens and pencils, etc. It shows when it comes time to exam day. I'm so happy I spent time learning organizational systems for myself. My simple folder method came in super handy, as did my 6-month perpetual planner. Made my life so much easier!! As I finish my first semester of nursing school in french, I am so grateful. Grateful for all the challenges that forced me to study harder. Grateful for the bilingual burnout, which seemed to happen every few days, because it forced me to listen to my body and set boundaries with myself. Grateful for the acceptance of my much younger peers. Grateful for the professors who were patient as I tried to explain myself in a language I’m not fully fluent in. Grateful for everything I learned. Grateful for all the expansion that comes with being afraid to try new things and then realizing there’s nothing to be afraid of - that it’s all figure-outable. Somehow. Grateful for the different perspectives I encountered during class discussions. Grateful for the support of my school when I needed help with my ADHD. Grateful for the fact that my school teaches meditation as part of their nursing program. Grateful for the school lunch ladies who are so joyous and fun to talk to during breaks. Grateful for this amazing library where I get to study peacefully every single day. Grateful for my ability to adapt. Being a chameleon has its perks. Grateful for all the help I received from friends and family. Grateful for my boyfriend who is french-speaking and lets me practice with him everyday. Grateful for the chance to model change with acceptance for my teenagers. Grateful also for the opportunity to show them how hard I work to earn the grades I get. If you want something, you have to work for it, period. They see it. I live it everyday. I’m so thankful this school accepted me as a student. I will show them through hard work just how appreciative I am. For anyone who is learning french while they are attending school, here are some cheatsheets I made for myself to remember basic rules of grammar. If they help, awesome! Feel free to screenshot. If you find it helpful, share it. If you want to donate a coffee, you can do so, here:

AI generated image of an artist following all of her crazy ideas in front of an audience In my 20s, I had a lot of dreams and big ideas for the world. I would call my parents or friends and share what I was excited about—a new job, project, or dream—with reckless abandon. In my 30s, I noticed that the enthusiasm for my new ideas and adventures had turned toward concern: Will she ever figure out what to do in life? She’s always starting a new project. You never know what it’ll be. Now, in my 40s, I keep my cards closer to my chest because a big part of me feels ashamed when things don’t work out. And then I feel judged, somehow—even if I can’t confirm with data that I’m actually being judged. It’s like there’s a split. So, I spoke to that split this morning, and this was our conversation: Jaren the Dreamer: I have this new idea. I can’t wait to share it with the world. Maybe someone will find it as inspiring as I do! Jaren the Bruised: It’s just your AuDHD. This is a temporary feeling. What you’re experiencing now is a dopamine dump. Give it a few weeks and it’ll go away, and you’ll save yourself a lot of pain by not having to explain to everyone why your new idea didn’t work out. Like all of your relationships. Jaren the Dreamer: Eww. No. Why would I do that? Also, rude. Jaren the Bruised: Remember the ex nobody liked? It caused a whole lot of heartache. You felt ashamed. Jaren the Dreamer: No, I didn’t. You did. I felt healed in many ways by that relationship, even though it ended. You are the one who is ashamed. Not me. Ever. Life is too short to stop and obsess about the past. Jaren the Bruised: (silence) Jaren the Dreamer: Wow. I didn’t realize it bothered you so much. I suppose we could compromise. I still get to be super pumped and excited about my big ideas, but… I can wait to tell people about them until they’re closer to being finished, meaning I have a structured plan for introducing them to the world. Does that work? Jaren the Bruised: Yes, actually. It would show people you’re serious. And if it doesn’t work out, it’s only on you and me to manage the fallout. We won’t have to navigate other people’s opinions and feelings. Jaren the Dreamer: Whatever, as long as I get to shout in happiness at the top of my lungs when the projects are finished. I just want you to realize that you are the one struggling here. Not me. Jaren the Bruised: Okay. I admit it. And I appreciate you taking my feelings into consideration. I will not rain on your parade once our next project is closer to being finished. Jaren the Dreamer: Deal. But one more thing: you don’t get to be a perfectionist and kill all my projects because you don’t think they’re good enough. Jaren the Bruised: Me? That’s not my job. That’s Jaren the Perfectionist’s job. Jaren the Dreamer: Fuck. Okay, let’s call her in. Jaren the Perfectionist: What did I do? Jaren the Bruised and Jaren the Dreamer (in unison): You do tend to kill a lot of projects. Jaren the Perfectionist: Moi? But look at all the bazillions I let pass! No? Fine. I’ll lower the bar. A little. Jaren the Dreamer: You may have to lower it a lot. We’re in our 40s now. We care less. Jaren the Bruised: But you still have access to the kill switch! We promise. Jaren the Perfectionist: What’s the catch? Jaren the Bruised: Just that we have to agree with you. When we get close to finalizing a project, we all have to decide together if the project will see the light of day. It’s no longer just your decision. Jaren the Dreamer: And I get the majority vote, by the way, because you two have dominated my life for the past decade. No more. We are done. It’s my turn again, okay? We need a little more joy in our life. But I promise I will be open to listening to your feedback—not like in my 20s. That was out of control, I admit. Deal? Jaren the Bruised: Yeah. And I’ll work harder on letting go of what people think of us. Jaren the Perfectionist: Same. Jaren the Dreamer: Deal. So, I guess now would be a good time to tell you all that I’m taking some time off for the next couple of months to work on an exciting new project. I just can’t tell you what it is yet. I’ll have to confer with my "splits" closer to the completion date to see about releasing it into the world. Until then, thank you for reading and listening to The Pivot!

Lyrics at the bottom of this post Click on the youtube video to listen to Kainos Harmon sing on Amurai's track Love & Light, written by Jaren Cerf Love & Light I don’t think many people know I wrote the lyrics and melody to this song. It’s been in my Top 5 since at least 2015 for a few reasons: Amurai’s production is out of this world, especially paired with Kainos Harmon’s voice. (I am so lucky she sang it. If I remember correctly, she was a friend or contact of Amurai’s and I knew the minute I heard her voice she could nail ANYTHING. Like. Anything. This girl’s voice is like a chameleon. I wonder what she’s up to now.) Kainos, if you ever read this post, you have one of my favorite voices on the planet. I don’t consider myself to be that philosophic, but I do tend to be a deep thinker when sitting behind a piano. Even as a teenager, I’d spent hours on end at my upright wondering what makes people tick. I was especially fascinated about human connection, especially as someone who grew up so independent it was difficult for me to maintain friendships with more than one or two people at a time. Often, I’d write something that didn’t make total sense to me at the time, then figure it out years later. Because I’m a goddam genius? Ha! I wish. Nah. The older I get, the more I think it has to do with channeling. As a child, I would often have experiences of déjà vu. I would sometimes predict what my mother would say before she said it. Not often enough to scare anyone. Just often enough for me to think “Whoa, that was weird!” and then forget about it 10 minutes later. Sometimes, I’d have experiences at the piano where it felt like my hands were being taken over by someone else. And on particularly good days when I was feeling really emotionally connected to something larger than myself (though at the time I couldn’t define what), words and melodies would come together at the same time as the music in a way that felt so effortless I can only describe it as the true definition (in my head) of the word freedom. Effortless doesn’t necessarily mean good, though. I’ve listened back to plenty of my work and thought “Welp. That was crap. But even crap needs to find its way out.” I came to think of these flow states as radio channels. Depending on where my emotional antenna was facing, I would pull in a certain station - information that needed to be expressed. If you ask me now, I would say I believe that what I write has less to do with me being original and more to do with being an open source for spirit (or source or whatever) to express itself. I mean, I didn’t have the life experience to write about some of the songs that made my career, yet I wrote them all the same. How do I explain that? Or the fact that years later, I would live these songs out (which got a little scary). Now I pay more attention to the words I use when I write…which means that I spend less time tuning into a particular “channel” and more time being deliberate about what I want to say. This has been one of the most difficult things for me to do, as a writer. I dislike the process of writing significantly more when I’m trying to be deliberate about what I want to convey than when I just let it flow. But at this point in my life, I feel like it’s a necessary step in my writing journey because once I can really say what I mean, I can then let go and allow the channeling to happen again. Then, in my head at least, I can marry the two parts together for something even more meaningful than I could ever have imagined. I feel a little bit like that’s what happened with this song. I remember wanting connection as I wrote it. I remember wanting to tap into something deeper. And I also remember the flow state I was in when this song was born. Maybe that’s why I appreciate it so much. And for those of you who think this series of the Pivot is just about bragging, don’t worry. I’m going to talk about the songs that flopped harder than a whale falling from an airplane pretty soon. I’m ready to have a good laugh at myself. Until then... Final thoughts: Art and connection are dependent on others being witness to them. “I need your love and light. I can’t do this alone.” I could never have had a career without you. I could never have had a relationship without my partner. I could have never been a mother without having my children. I could have never written this song had you all not been around to share in listening. I could not be me without you. We are all connected. Love & Light Written and produced by: Amurai Vocals: Kainos Harmon Lyrics & Melody: Jaren Cerf Lost somewhere in western sky Just below the setting sun Rests the truth about the lies We tell ourselves so we can keep on and on, yeah How do we light what’s been so dark, so long? I need your love and light I can’t do this alone Can’t do this alone We could light a fire in the heart of hearts We could walk the walk until the end We could tear the world we know apart and Make amends and start again, oh yeah That’s how we light what’s been so dark, so long I need your love and light I can’t do this alone Can’t do this alone I need your voice to fight ‘Cuz we can’t do this alone We can’t do this alone I need your love Keywords: Jaren Cerf, singer, Armin van Buuren, Dash Berlin, Man On The Run, Saved Again, You Never Said, Unforgiveable, Cerf, CMJ, Cerf, Mitiska, Jaren, EDM, Trance, Vocal Trance, Aly & Fila, A State Of Trance, Begging You, Matt Cerf, Avenue One

LYRICS AT BOTTOM OF POST There are a handful of songs in my career as a writer that I can truly say I am proud of having written. "Undo the Silence" is one of them. I wanted to sing on this track with Pulser so badly, but I couldn't for contractual reasons. That’s why you hear my sister, Josie, on quite a few songs from 2009–2012. Andy (Pulser) has been one of my favorite collaborators throughout my years in music. I can listen to our collaborations on repeat for days; I just love his production style. If you’ve ever been the pursuer in a relationship with an avoidant partner, you’ll understand this song clear as day. However, I wasn't actually writing about a relationship with another person in this particular case. I was writing about my relationship to myself. This song, quite literally, is about what I was going through in my 20s and 30s. I worded it to make it more universal because I think the "cat and mouse" game is relatable to most people at some point in their lives. But now, 17 years later, I appreciate the familiar truths that still surface in my personality: my competing desires for both privacy and curiosity. When I started this series, The Pivot, I didn’t like the idea of putting myself back "out there". I didn’t have the capacity to deal with the death threats, the suicide notes, the tattoos of my lyrics on fans' skin, or the disappointment from those I upset for exploring genres beyond trance. So, I hid. Eventually, curiosity got the better of me. What if I can hold space for all of that? What if being out in the world again doesn’t have to be so scary? What if I don't have to hide anymore? What would that look like? What would I be teaching my kids? What permission would I be giving others out there like me by simply existing...louder? I spent so many years living in actual silence. No music. Just the sound of my kids, the cars driving by, and my brain cells dividing. Eventually, I became so depressed and anxious that I started isolating even more than usual. A bike accident changed things for me; I started questioning everything I thought I knew about love and connection. But I still remained quiet and private. Baby steps. It wasn’t until this latest pivot into the world of nursing that things really changed. My desire to stay invisible has diminished. My capacity to be seen has grown. Now, as I listen to "Undo the Silence," it resonates on a different cellular level. I no longer feel the melancholic calling of my old self to step up. Instead, I hear my sister inviting the new me into existence. It makes me think of Erikson’s eight stages of development, something we cover in nursing. For my age group, it is spot on: Generativity vs. Stagnation (40–65 years): Adults focus on career and family (contribution and care) or feel stuck (stagnation). Do you have a song that resonates with you 20 years later? Quiet now, he speaks. What's it going to be? The same old private stories? The ones I can't be told. I guess we'll never know What really stands in between us. How long will it take To mend this broken heart? I'm fading. Is there any way to Undo the silence? Undo the silence, Undo the silence, Unto the silence, Baby, I'm breakin' down... Keywords: Jaren Cerf, singer, Armin van Buuren, Dash Berlin, Man On The Run, Saved Again, You Never Said, Unforgiveable, Cerf, CMJ, Cerf, Mitiska, Jaren, EDM, Trance, Vocal Trance, Aly & Fila, A State Of Trance, Begging You, Matt Cerf, Avenue One

“Careful not to disturb you, no I don’t dare say a word, cuz you’re perfect right where you are. And just the sound of you breathin’ is proof enough there’s a reason for everything, even us.” Lyrics from Our Little Secret (Cerf, Mitiska, Jaren) One of the things I loathe most about being a woman in show business is the unspoken pressure to camouflage a pregnancy just to stay relevant. It’s why I have such a girl-crush on Cardi B. Sure, she kept it under wraps for a minute, but once she went public? She rocked those baby bumps in a way that truly levelled me. Dry-humping the stage? Twerking? Hell yes. Those babies got a free ride to the theme park. I wouldn’t be surprised if they found shadowing Navy Seals for a day boring. “Jumping out of helicopters? Please. I did the equivalent in the womb.” Flashback to 2009. I was 25 (though I was telling people I was 23 because I routinely forgot how old I was the second I turned 21). I’d just signed my umpteenth record deal and things were finally catching fire in my trance career. “Unforgivable” and “Man on the Run” were out in the world, and right on cue, my hormones decided it was time to get pregnant. Impeccable timing. According to me, and me only. I’d heard the whispers. I’d listened to managers and agents talk shit about pregnant artists long before I had kids, and I understood the subtext: She decided her priorities were children instead of her career. She’s done. Cross her off the list. And then, I had my own. “And all the distance in between can’t stop the love that I hold. But, I guess it’s our little secret. Either way, I’m gonna keep it with me wherever I go.” Lyrics from Our Little Secret (Cerf, Mitiska, Jaren) There are a million reasons a woman in showbiz hides her belly. You don’t want to lose jobs (obviously). If you’re “established,” pregnancy is tolerated at best; if you’re not, you’re basically a liability. Then there’s the need for personal privacy—and protecting the privacy of a child who didn't ask for the spotlight. In my case, I was “kinda-sorta” established, and we—Matt, our partner Shawn, and I—had a new album on the horizon. I had zero clue how I was going to promote it. By the time I hit six months, I looked like I was carrying multiples. There was no way my puffy face, swollen feet, and basketball-sized belly were going into a promo shoot. As it turned out, I needn’t have worried. My progeny turned two before the project even saw the light of day. It was infuriating. We were this close to finishing the master when I went into labor. There were literal hours left of work, but I was currently hollering and bellowing like a dying cow every three minutes. My sister-in-law, who was babysitting me at the time, decided the "cow" was probably going to give birth soon and told her brother to get his ass home. Now. A few months later, the guys (Matt and Shawn) decided to “fix the production” on a few tracks. That little tweak took two years. And approximately 98% of my sanity. Anyway. "Our Little Secret" started as a song about my deep love for Matt while he slept next to me. Eventually, it morphed. It became a song about the intense, sacred link that would tie us together for eternity: our daughter. In that moment, I didn’t care what happened to my career. I knew I loved this child more than anything, and I’d do anything for her—even if it meant losing a tour (which I did) or losing jobs (I’m certain of it). It was the right thing for me. And honestly? Fuck anyone who thinks having a child makes you "less-than" as an artist. I try to imagine life without my kids, and it’s bleak. Would I have more money? Sure. But I’d also be miserable, anxious, and constantly feeling like the main character of my life was missing. My daughter forced me to grow up. She forced me to audit my priorities and face my demons. I will never be able to thank her enough for just... existing. (Lilu, if you’re reading this, I mean every word. But that doesn’t mean I’m spending my entire life savings on you at Sephora. There are material limits, kid.) ***I hate that I even have to say this, but: writing this isn't an attack on anyone who chooses the child-free life. Your journey is yours. You know what’s best for you, period. I wanted kids. I was disorganized, and frankly, I was a child myself when I had her. But we’ve grown up together. This song is the start of that journey. It encapsulates my feelings about that specific window of time—and the "mama bear" attitude I had to adopt while facing a notoriously superficial industry. Man, am I glad I wrote it. And man, am I thankful to Matt and Shawn and Pulser for taking me seriously when I insisted on putting a chillout song on what was supposed to be a "trance" album. That's how I remember it, at least. I have a thousand more stories about the high-drama rollercoaster of putting that project together, but those are for another day. Right now, I’m just sending some love to 25-year-old Jaren—in all her insecurity, her fierce desire to be a Mom against everyone’s wishes, and her unflinching need to explore every messy human emotion. Xo, Jaren The baby in this belly is now the singer on this track. Keywords: Jaren Cerf, singer, Armin van Buuren, Dash Berlin, Man On The Run, Saved Again, You Never Said, Unforgiveable, Cerf, CMJ, Cerf, Mitiska, Jaren, EDM, Trance, Vocal Trance, Aly & Fila, A State Of Trance, Begging You, Matt Cerf, Avenue One

Yep. That's me. If I were AI generated. Thank you, Gemini, for capturing this feeling so well. I’m perimenopausal. I know it. My doctor knows it. I would make it my entire personality if the idea didn’t bother me so much. I simply refuse.   But there’s one symptom that has really started to bug me. It only started a few years ago, but it affects just about everything I do because it’s related to sleep – and if I can’t sleep well, neither can anyone else in my house because I’m petty these days. Also a symptom?   (Anyway, whatever.) It’s my arms. I don’t know how to sleep with them attached to my body anymore. They’ve developed snotty attitudes and have basically become two entitled princesses who expect princess treatment. As if I have the energy.   “Not that position. It’s just like slightly too high, you know what I mean?” “Well, I don’t want to be squished, either!” “Well, no, because I'll get too cold!” “Yack, no. Who likes a sauna? Not me.” “Okay don't move. That's perfect. Well, tell the shoulders to deal with it! Why do they have to be such babies, anyway? They always get what they want!”   I’ve reached the age where, even if I did have a partner, I’d probably have to sleep alone because the only " sleep -able" positions are so ridiculous even my dog gets fed up. Now she insists on sleeping under the covers next to my knees when I’m on my side. I’m pretty sure it’s so she can lock me into one position so I won’t flop around all night like a beached fish. But every morning, one of my princess arms wakes up in a miserable mood, anyway, and gives everyone the silent treatment — at least until I have my coffee. Thank god they like decaf.   So, I don’t know. Maybe you can help a girl out? Give me some guidance? Can a girl bribe her arms into submission? Or like, take them off at night or something? I wish. I’m at the point where I sleep with one of those funky formed foam pillows. It’s great for holding my head in place. But the arms don’t abide. So, what I’ve been doing lately, is this:   My Current "Going To Sleep With Perimenopausal Arms" Routine   Go anywhere there’s a sale on king-size pillows. The puffier, the better. But also a little firm. Rethink your purchase five times. Like, do I really need these? Surely any of the other bazillion regular size pillows at home could work. They won’t. Buy ridiculously expensive organic cotton pillow covers for said king-size pillows. Regret your purchase as you walk to the car. Wash the pillow covers at home. Immediately regret regretting buying pillow covers because they are the softest things you’ve ever felt and make you want to take a nap right now. At bedtime, twirl around counter clockwise three time and whisper “please let my arms behave” to the Perimenopausal Arm Gods, then crawl into bed. Place one king-size pillow behind your back (pretend someone dares enough to spoon you during this tumultuous time). Place your foam pillow under your head so that it’s comfortable on the side but that if you happen to roll backwards enough, it’s also comfortable (this is key). Place other king-size pillow between your knees and drape one arm over the top (because it’s long – you can pretend it’s like you are in bed with Tristan from Legends of the Fall), and the arm underneath straight out but angled down enough towards your feet that your top hand can touch your bottom wrist, gently. Pull the covers all the way up to your least favorite chin hair. Realize you’re only half way there because now that you’re somewhat comfortable, the racing thoughts that keep you awake can now take over.   Okay, gals. What am I missing? Tell me what I can improve. And, also, tell me I’m not alone.   -Jaren

To all my other single parents out there. I feel you. So does Google Gemini, which generated this photo. 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, homework, the demands of home life in general) in a way that is more sustainable for all of us. Let me give you an example. I used to say things like, “I SWEAR TO GOD, IF YOU DON’T GET THE DISHES DONE IN THE NEXT FIFTEEN MINUTES, I’M TURNING OFF THE INTERNET!” and “1, 2, 3, UH OH, 4, 5…” and “I TOLD YOU FIFTEEN TIMES TO CLEAN UP THE BATHROOM!” My son does not like when I yell. Neither does my daughter, obviously, but she’s stubborn like me and doesn’t take my demands as personally. She’s fifteen. She mostly rolls her eyes. My son, however, gets overwhelmed, balls his hands into tight fists, builds up steam like a teapot before “crashing out,” then yells, “I can’t understand! You’re telling me too many things at once!” So, I got smart and asked them how they would like me to help them help me make sure they get all their crap done so I don’t burn down the whole house in a fit of rage! Suggestions included: “Realize that it’s not that deep, Mom.” “Let us live. Otherwise, why did you even have us? You didn’t ask our permission to be born.” And other gems like: “We’re not slaves,” and, “Maybe if we wrote it down and you let us do the chores when we want, we would all live happier together.” I modified the last suggestion by adding a deadline. “Fine,” I said. “You have until 8 p.m. to get all of your chores and homework done. I don’t care how you get it done, just get it done, and I promise not to yell. If it’s not done, I get to turn off the internet for 24 hours. Capiche?” “Capiche.” “Capiche.” Here’s where I feel the rub, though, and I’m not sure if it’s just a generational thing or if I’m too new-agey and libetarded in my desire to heal old wounds with tools like psychotherapy and science. You’ll decide. When I was a kid, we did what we were told when we were told to do it. If we didn’t, we got grounded (no TV, no phone calls, no visiting friends, etc.). Once, when I was this  close to beating my all-time record score playing an online game I loved called Crystal Quest  (after ignoring my mom’s hollering about doing something), she simply unplugged the computer directly from the wall to get my attention. (And then she probably grounded me.) I almost lost my mind. When I told my dad to fuck off during a particularly awful bout of PMS when I was 16 (I have PMDD, so I turn into a whole other person the week before my period, and during those teen years, my hormones were all over the place and I needed help), I got grounded for a month, just in time for my next meltdown. I think I was grounded for six months straight that year. Anyway, I used to wish my parents would just listen to me and try to understand me. If my mom would have let me finish the game, I would have done all my chores and my sister’s, just because I would have been so happy to have beat my last record. If my dad had given me a hug and said, “It’s not okay to tell me to fuck off, but I can see you’re not feeling very good. You wanna tell me what’s going on?” I would have probably cried out all my frustration for 10 minutes, apologized profusely, then pulled myself up by my bootstraps and done whatever I was supposed to do. That’s what I’ve done ever since. But we didn’t have those tools back then. So everything I wanted from my parents when I was a teen, I’m giving to my kids. When my son wants to play his games online, I understand. And I’m fine if he does, as long as he does all the other stuff that keeps him and his family running. School is tough! If my daughter wants to get lost in doing makeup designs in the bathroom mirror for two hours after school because the night before she typed up 95 pages of notes before her exam (true story), then fine! Please. Find a way to enjoy life between obligations, by all means. But just make sure the chores get done. We share this living space together. We need to respect each other. Yeah. Parents respecting kids… this is where I feel the rub. Am I enabling my kids, or am I just supporting them? I’ll tell you one thing: I don’t get offended when my kids lash out at me. I know there’s always something behind it. When they shout something at me, I immediately ask, “What’s wrong?” Because there’s always something there. We go back and discuss why it’s not okay to lash out, but I also understand. And my greatest hope is that my kids will catch themselves when they’re upset and ask themselves, out of curiosity, what the real issue is. It’s never just, “WHY ARE YOU SO LOUD WHEN YOU EAT CARROTS! CAN’T YOU EAT LIKE A NORMAL PERSON?!” It’s usually, “I’m overwhelmed. I have a lot of pressure to do well on a test I haven’t prepared for, and I feel behind, and I’m scared of failing. And also, will you please eat carrots with your mouth closed because my misophonia is a level 10 right now.” Yeah. So. I don’t know. Am I enabling? Am I helping? I guess it’s a bit of both. The good news is the chores are getting done with less yelling on my part. That’s gotta count for something. I wish parenting came with a manual. —Jaren What’s your biggest rub as a parent?

View from my airplane window. I’m writing this on an airplane on my way home 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.   It’s mostly been manageable. Ish.   Last week, however, I was confronted with the ridiculousness of my need to visualize ahead when my ex texted to me that he was taking our kids deep-sea fishing for the day. They were on vacation, and I couldn’t visualize what their experience would be like, no matter how hard I tried.   This was our text exchange:   Baby daddy: Ok goodbye Jaren. We’re going fishing. Thanks for everything in case we never come back.   Me: Oh, fuck off. laugh emoji while panicking inside   If anyone  knows me and my relationship with anxiety, it’s my ex. He teases me about it incessantly, and I have to say - I’m glad he does. Otherwise, I might not survive it.   I thought about our text exchange for an entire week.   Why don’t we systematically say goodbye to our loved ones just in case we die before we next see them? And I don’t mean "bye" as in “Bye, see you next week!” I mean as in: “In case anything happens to me, I want you to know I love you and have always loved you and I will always look after you from the other side as your guardian angel. Goodbye.”   Will we jinx the Universe or something? Because I systematically refuse to say goodbye to my kids. Instead, I say “I love you, see you after school/next week/tomorrow," etc.   So, as I left, this morning, for my trip home to visit family - without my kids in tow - I decided I would  tell them goodbye, and let them know I’ll always look after them, just in case I die during my trip. Not that I predict I will, because I can clearly predict how my week will roll out… seriously, fuck off, anxiety.    As I dropped my kids off at school, I gave them each a hug and forced a kiss on their cheeks as they squirreled away from me to join their friends, half shouting, “Just in case I die, I want you to know I love you and I will haunt you forever!”   Not quite what I intended to say, but both kids laughed, so I’ll take that as a win.   I guess that’s what happens when you tease your kids all the time. Everything becomes hilarious. All the funny stuff, the stressful stuff, and the stuff that scares us shitless…   Death is such a taboo topic. It’s especially painful, I find, when your kids are young because they haven’t gotten to spread their wings yet.    I think about my kids and remember being afraid to die before I had the chance to lose my virginity. Really. I remember thinking There’s no way I’m dying today because I haven’t gotten to do it yet. And, sometimes, the thought would make me want to find a boyfriend immediately just to get it all over with so I didn’t have to carry around the anxiety and all the pressure that piggybacked along with it. When I finally lost my virginity at 19 (out of high school), I remember thinking “ That’s it? All that anxiety…for this?!”  And pretty much felt that way until my 30s. About sex. Not about dying.   Then my fear of dying resurfaced - this time to the power of ten - as soon as I became a parent. For 15 years now, I’ve been plagued with the thought that if I die, my kids will never survive it. I’m too important. I love them too much. And without my love, they will look at the world and say what’s the point? My mother’s love is the ONLY thing that keeps me alive. I have no other interests in life. There is nothing else. Nada. Niet.    My brain deserves an Oscar for Best Actress in a Drama Series.   But then I put on my logical cap, take a step back and look at the wonderful team of carers they have around them. Their grandparents - all six of them (steps included). Aunts. Uncles. Family friends. Cousins. Best friends. An awesome step-mom.   And then I realize I’m important, sure. But I’m not everything. My kids would survive because they’re surrounded by love, support and understanding. And that thought, alone, lifts a massive amount of pressure from my shoulders.   So, I’m gonna do a little experiment. I’m going to see what happens when I surrender myself to the Universe during this little trip home to see my family - by consciously releasing this anxiety about dying. No, really. Everytime I start to panick, I will remind myself that we already had this discussion, Jaren. SURRENDER . When I think about it - and I mean really think about it - I can’t imagine that the anxiety I create in my very own brain can control my actual destiny.    I call bullshit. I am not my thoughts.   I am not my thoughts.   I am not my thoughts.   Because Eckhart Tolle told me I’m not, but also because I can’t carry this weight anymore.   Anyhow, we won’t know if this little experiment works until next week when I get back. If I survive the surrender, I mean. I’ll let you know.   -Jaren   What absolutely scares the shit out of you?

Each day I talk about one thing that makes my life easier as a neurodivergent mother raising neurodivergent kids while going back to school full time in my 40s. I'm not sure why, but it seems like every ADHD friend of mine struggles with keeping track of their money. I get it. 1) If you're an elder millennial like me, you most likely weren't taught how. I learned by searching out and following budgeting gurus on social media obsessively for years. 2) Money, for some, is also less interesting if you don't have it, or you have enough to get by but not enough to save the way we've all been told to. (In this economy? Puh lease. Wages haven't exactly gone up in proportion to the cost of living over the last 40 years...what the hell are we supposed to do? Asking because I've been working my ass off my entire life only to return to school because AI killed my last career.) All this to say, I know how stressful it can be to think about money, to figure out how to track it, what to do with it, how to grow it, etc. So in today's post, I'm telling you that using a money tracking app makes my life so much easier because I don't have to worry about overspending. I am currently using Good Budget (I've used YNAB - You Need A Budget), and various others throughout the years. This is NOT an ad, btw. I'm just sharing what I'm using currently, and I have to say I love it. This is a great ADHD mom hack! Here's how it works: 1) First, you create a zero-based budget , meaning every dollar is given a job and organized into categories. For more info on how to do this, ask AI (you know, the one I just complained about). 2) Once you have your categories accounted for (ex: $600/for food, $250/for going out, $200$/month for transportation, etc.), plug those details into the app . 3) Every time you spend money, simply input the amount spent to the category it belongs to, and the app will automatically deduct it from the monthly allowance you set for yourself. It then gives you an updated total so you know how much is left every month. Why it works for me: It gamifies my spending. My monthly mission is always to spend less than what I budgeted, and when ADHD Jaren gives up and stops caring about money tracking, autistic Jaren is always there to finish the job with at least a single penny saved because she's fixated. At the end of the month, everyone wins! So, that's what I do these days. How about you? What works best for you? -Jaren If you have teens or kids at home and you are interested in helping them learn about money, check out my budget binders for kids and budget binders teens here! And if you enjoyed this post, you might like this one about online grocery shopping to stay on budget. You might also like this one about ways to make tax season suck less as a neurodivergent .

Each day I talk about one thing that makes my life easier as a neurodivergent mother raising neurodivergent kids while going back to school full time in my 40s. Do your kids fight over snacks like mine do? Separate them. The snacks, I mean. This is so ridiculously simple I feel like a dumb dumb for not having done this sooner - although to be fair, the kids only really started fighting in the last two years. They were best friends before puberty. Separate those snacks and label the container I have two kids, so I used two bowls. I taped a card with their names on it and boom. (Could it be fancier? Obviously.) I don't know how anyone with more than two kids would do this because it would take up a lot of room, but if you can find a container that can be home to your kids' snacks, I recommend it. Heck, I'd even use a sock organizer. Yeah, I know. I need to wipe down the shelf. I'll get to it when I get to it. The benefits of separating snacks: The kid who doesn't pay attention to when groceries arrive doesn't lose out on snacks because the one who does (she literally counts down the minutes) beats him to all the good snacks and wipes them out within minutes. (The only time he cares about groceries is during summer when it's ice cream season) The kids learn responsibility. They get a certain number of snacks per week and when they run out, it's over. They learn to "budget". And if you're like "Kids shouldn't have to budget snacks" , you're obviously not a single mom going back to school on a miniature budget, okay? I don't have money for extra snacks. Period. So that's it. That's my TED talk for today. How do you manage fights over food in your house? Leave me a comment, I want to know! -Jaren If you likes this post, check out this one about keeping socks near the front door. This eliminated so many morning fights. Or this one about prepping clothes and prepping lunches the night before. Anything to make getting out the door on time easier for Mom and kids.