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Shut Up and Learn Something

By Kellie Purcill

“Kel, sit down for a minute, I need to talk to you about something.” I’ve never sat down after hearing a sentence like that with anything approaching excitement. Usually those words combust into a roil of foot-long worms in my belly, or start an acid burn in the back of my throat that drips and …

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Grief Wears Steel-Capped Boots

By Kellie Purcill

My fourteen year old firstborn sits in the hairdressers’ chair, all lanky legs and angles. His curls tumble to the floor – a boofy English Sheepdog turning sleek German Pinscher – and his face morphs as I watch. He’s half smiling, the little mouth twitch I know means he’s well pleased. “Reckon your Dad will …

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Bemoaning Hormones

By Ashley Dickson

Last week I cried about a hamburger. The evening started out pleasantly enough. It was my husband’s birthday — his first since we’ve been married. We decided to try one of Boston’s best burger joints for the celebratory dinner. My mouth was watering at first sight of the menu — more than two dozen varieties …

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Everyone Loves A Love Story

By Kellie Purcill

I had several ideas for this post. Intriguing, amusing, thoughtful ideas, all jostling for space and attention in my head, slyly shoving each other while smiling broadly at the camera, vying to be chosen as the post winner. I spent last week drafting the piece, mental wheels spinning as I slalomed the forklift through my family’s warehouse, picking phrases and words off my vocabulary stores as I dispatched orders, cheerfully singing in the rain when I felt the post coming together in a solid, attractive first draft.

Then, in a huge explosion of emotional glitter and figurative fireworks, I became engaged.

I cannot – for the life of me – remember any of my post ideas. Not one.

Dinner has been late every night. I’ve put product labels on backwards, upside down, and even on the wrong item. I meant to have this post up hours ago, but… well… haven’t.

I’m not myself. Thankfully, not one person has had a problem with my fuzzy, errant actions or lack of concentration. Because, it turns out, everyone loves a love story.

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I’m so offended!

Today’s guest post comes courtesy of Laura Day Lewis. Raised in the land Bountiful, Utah she now resides on the Lewis “Farm” outside of Boston, MA. She is wife to one, and called “Mom” by 3 boys, 1 girl, and a dog. As the best hair stylist around, a visit to her chair is filled with highlights of laughter

My heart broke the day my 7th grader came home from school upset because a kid was teasing him. I was able to hug him and sympathize as he begged, “CAN WE PLEASE MOVE?!”

I broke the news to him that moving to a different state wouldn’t solve his problems. Regardless of where you live or how old you are, there will always be people you don’t see eye to eye with. There will be unkind words spoken, some intentional, some not. With that being said, regardless of where I live or how old I am, I face it constantly. It’s up to ME to decide how I will handle each situation.

My personal therapist, aka my Dad, often told me, “No one can MAKE YOU FEEL anything!”

Meaning, if someone “makes” you mad, YOU are making the choice to be mad.

If someone “makes” you feel inadequate, YOU are allowing it.

Or if someone “makes” you feel dumb, YOU doubt yourself.

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