And now some peace of mind…

We had our talk, exactly as two mature people should.

Damn it was good. This is what a relationship can be like when you love each other and take the time to be open about your needs. His way of talking with me reminded me about why I love him so much. I felt heard and there was a true dialog between us, so I understand what is going on and what he needs and he knows what I need.

I won’t have a room of my own BUT I will have our bedroom to use as my retreat. We talked about it and I know I will have my space as I need it. It was a clear conversation with confirmation that yes, he was joking with me in those previous comments that had me angsty and unhappy.

We talked about our stuff and how we’re going to have to thin things out a ton, but my stuff will have as much place in our home as his… maybe even a bit more in some areas, as I have an actual aesthetic (this is coming from him, by the way… not my comments) and his is more just foundlings that he has accumulated. I love a lot of the quirky things in his home and I have some things I truly love, that make my space feel like peaceful home for me. I think we can take the best of both our worlds, bring it together, and make a home that is our wonderful place.

What he made exceedingly clear is that it will be our home together and I won’t be squished or less than. I don’t know any other way to put it. It will be us and we both agree that means being loving and open and respectful of each other.

The red flags are gone. I’m at peace. I think I need to learn it through and through: He is my person and I don’t mean that in a cliche way. He’s a person who cares and is willing to explain when I misunderstand things. I got so used to not asking for what I needed that I forgot I’m allowed to do that. And I’m totally willing to listen and participate when he needs things. He is SO clear when he is talking with me. It’s truly a conversation where we share in it and are listening to each other.

So to Mrs. MGB, thank you for your advice and your loving nudges about me spiraling. Thank you, too, to Mrs. HH and my Mum for listening to me let out all the worry.

It’s ok. I’m ok now and I’m ready for this. I’m more ready, even, than I was when we initially were going to do this because now I get it.


My new boss called while I was writing this and we talked about Monday and next week. I am so very grateful they are taking a chance on me. I am going to get to learn so much and do so much and I will be appreciated for the work I do. My quirks will be appreciated there. In turn? I will appreciate how much they take care of their employees. I’m turning 54 in May and I do not want to have to go through any more searching for my place. I’ve been getting closer and closer to finding my fit and thank goodness for the environmental agency, where I became friends with the person who led me to this company. I will give it my best, while still taking care of my own private life needs.

I’m going to finish this up now and take a little break before I get back to cleaning and sorting.

I don’t know what I’ll think when I get to the end of 2023, but I have high hopes for it right now. I hope that I settle in and make a good home for myself at my new job. I hope that Spicy Ginger and I (and Youngest) make the move as smoothly as we can. I hope I remember to look after my health and keep my sanity in the midst of what will be a busy year. I hope my medical conditions will not ramp up. I hope that I trim a little of the excess off my body and from my household.

Most of all, I hope that we end this year even just a little better off than we are starting it.


More Baggage Than a Pan Am Flight – or – Love When You’re Old

Let’s start with yesterday’s post (now deleted): My dear friend called me and advised, kindly, that I’m spiraling. Indeed, I had already determined that I was, but having someone point it out helped me to step back from it.

She also made the Pan Am comment and I’ll be honest here: the writer in me loves it and the rational human agrees heartily.

It’s also right and rational to be concerned about what I perceive to be red flags about our moving in together, while at the same time understanding that I need to unmute myself and sit down with Spicy Ginger to have a respectful and open conversation about our needs and expectations for moving in together.

When you’re in your 20’s I think it’s all too easy to just jump in, toes pointed down, and go for it.

When you’re in your 50’s? Nah. Those days have passed away in a haze of experiences that form your needs into a solid mass.

Twenty years of marriage turned me mute and resentful where getting my needs met was concerned because they were often disregarded or lost and buried under the needs of my family. I’ve spent the four years since the end of my marriage unlearning old behaviors (maybe picking up a few new ones) and learning to advocate for myself. Or maybe I haven’t been advocating for myself so much as just firmly taking what I need in my world. I’ll have to ponder that one for a bit.

Psychologically-speaking, I still visualize myself having duct tape over my mouth and being unable to verbally express what I need. My couple of close friends might be surprised to hear me say that because I’ve become comfortable enough with them to let my thought train out, but it’s true. I struggle to express what I need and when I’ve tried, it’s often a mess. I tried at work – finally – and it got me in trouble… sometimes with me being told I was pushing back or being defensive. When I tried with X, he often got defensive and didn’t try to talk about things.

I’m stunted in my development where sitting down and negotiating things is concerned.

Well, anyway, I’ve written down some notes and I’ve asked Spicy Ginger if we can meet up during the day today to discuss our needs and expectations. This is a new thing for me and I’ve never done this before – not in this methodical way. I’m going to be rough and possibly slightly inept about it. Still, I’ll try.

Maybe underlying all of this angst is the fear that I’ll lose myself again, as I did in my marriage. Some of it may be valid worry that I’ll lose what I’ve built here, in this space, and end up with regret. Some of it may be fear that we’ll mangle our relationship by living together. This is also valid, as living together creates stressors that would otherwise be avoided by simply leaving to one’s own space.

I think I know what I need to ask for and it feels huge. But the more I think on it, the more I think this is the answer to all of these fears… I will need my own room. I’ll need it for those times when I need my own space. I will need it for escape to gather my energies… to work… to have quiet. But also, I’ll need it when I’m sick (or he’s sick) and we need to keep distance so we don’t share. And if I make this big ask, then I need to be prepared to step up and provide my part of the resources to make it happen and I’m actually totally at peace with that. Even just writing this out here gives me the peace that I’ve been looking for with this decision.

And so, in writing, I’ve worked out what was paining me.

A weight just lifted off me in writing out that very big need. It takes me a bit to work through the tangled thoughts I have in my brain, but when I get there I can tell when I’ve hit clarity and this is clarity. Now I just need us to talk through things.


Beloved Oldest


I’m reading about parenting an ADHD kid with the impulsivity traits and it breaks my heart.

This isn’t misdirected parent-guilt, mind you. This is the dawning realization that we parented for neurotypical and did damage that I’m only just now coming to understand.

Here’s a limited sampling of it:

  • As a toddler she wanted to shave her face like daddy, so she got into the diaper cream and smeared it on her face. (Sounds normal, right? Just wait)
  • She got hold of the talcum powder and emptied the entired container in her room – she lost all her toys for that one and had to earn them back
  • She drew on the wall with both sharpie and highlighter, then took the sharpie to her own face (it’s actually surprisingly easy to get sharpie off faces)
  • She used her rubbery little toddler toes to climb the washing machine, get into the cupboard above the washing machine, and empty out blue laundry soap on to our beige carpet, which she then piled laundry on it
  • Took scissors to our couch
  • Emptied an entire one-pound bag of soy beans, all over the house

This was all in the period of about one year to eighteen months and isn’t a complete listing.

At age 7 she wrote on our rental’s walls with sharpie and drew a line down the HD tv that we were borrowing from my mum. We were torn between being angry and being impressed at her excellent penmanship.

I don’t even know how many stories like these we have and they go from extremely early childhood through to her now adult years.

She is beautiful, scary intelligent, and has the best heart. She was punished over and over. We tried every parenting technique we could. She was told over and over, in this well-intentioned way, that she was bad or wrong.

She started self-harming at 15 and was suicidal to the point that she went into in-patient. And this has just kept on going since that time, until finally she made the attempt just after she turned 19.

All I want is for my kid to live and survive this world. I want her to know that she’s not bad or wrong. She’s amazing.


The Two Wolves Are At It Again

My inattentive ADHD wolf and my autistic wolf are battling it out again. Mix in the dragon of Fibro and a healthy dose of anxiety chihuahua and I’m having a hard day.

I accepted the offer yesterday. They more than met my financial needs and the start date gives me time to do what is needed here at the house.

Then I spoke to the friend who referred me to the job and who was also a reference. She explained that she put her reputation on the line for me as they weren’t going to go with me due to my very spotty job history. I didn’t address the issue in the interview and maybe I should have, but that would have meant being bluntly open about the mental health issues Oldest has had, my own cognition issues, and my health issues.

As I sit back now and reflect, I wonder if I made the right choices during the last five years. I know what happened and how incredibly hard it has been. I lived through each of those moments and I fought to do what I thought was right at each step of the way.

I ignored the massive warning signs before I left the university, though. Oldest was in crisis and I was the one who sat with her, trying to bring her back to a grounded state. I used a technique for assisting someone in an autistic meltdown and looking back on that now, I am weeping because why the fuck didn’t I fight for her then? When she destroyed hundreds of dollars worth of dishes in our kitchen – BEFORE I took the job as a homelessness grants administrator – why didn’t I stay with the university, go on FMLA, and help her. Six months after that happened, she was in the in-patient program and had her 16th birthday locked away from us.

And the rational answer is that I didn’t know.

I read an article yesterday about twice exceptional kids/adults and it hit hard. It hit hard for her. It hit hard for me. And it hit hard for me as the parent of a 2e kid.

Look at that article name and believe it. I live it. She lives it. And Youngest lives it, too.

I wish to hell that we’d been able to get her identified young. I’m still working to help Youngest, but her ID as autism only just happened last summer. Me? I can’t even get identified, although I suppose I could have done it but the time away from work would have added to the issues there. And frankly, the bit of testing I’ve been through did not make me feel confident that I’ll ever be truly identified in any “official” way. Thank you 2e.

So let’s step back from the decisions I’ve had to make over the years and my perception that even when I was married, I was dealing with these issues for the kids and myself alone. X loves his kids but love alone is not enough when you are dealing with kids who don’t fall within easy neurotypical boundaries. Add in his own neurodivergence and you have a perfect storm. He never did research or read any of the materials about the mental health issues we were dealing with on behalf of Oldest. He never did the family counseling with her to repair their relationship, instead I believe that it healed with scar tissue that will always be there.

And I didn’t know about the true scope of what I was dealing with, even though a very knowledgeable and kind teacher for Oldest (in 4th grade) gave me a book to read about 2e kids and thought that was happening. Her kind child psychologist mentioned he thought he saw the traits when she was 5. But none of us, including him, identified it and fought for her. Instead, she was punished, over and over, for things that made sense to her brain.

I’m punishing myself for the same. Only I’m an adult and I can no longer afford to make the kind of mistakes I’ve been making before now. I can have a good cry this morning and let it out in writing, but then I have to shake it off and get things done. It’s always that, isn’t it? “Get Things Done” I have to be productive, take care of business, handle my shit, be a good mom or I’ll fail them, be a good employee and don’t miss anything, be healthy, get fit, don’t forget to make all the appointments and be sure to get that oil change done.

I wish there was a cure for adhd. Pop one single pill and it’s gone. I’d take it and wouldn’t think twice.

I hate the inattention traits. I want to find the silver lining in them, but I hate them.

I love my autistic traits. I love the awkwardness and the way I don’t quite fit in because they are paired with my analytical side and they come with my love of patterns. I didn’t always love my autism traits, though. As a young woman I hated them just as much as I hate my adhd traits now.

Back then I loved the free-spirited creativity that came with the adhd.

So I suppose that tells me maybe I’ll come to love both wolves when I’m elderly and have the freedom to indulge them both in their own ways?

There’s no cure, though. Not for me. The medication doesn’t work well, although I haven’t tried it since I had the cataract surgeries. So maybe I give it another shot?

Youngest is practically begging me to get her on ADHD meds. She doesn’t have the diagnosis yet and I guess I’m sitting here, realizing, that I need to arrange to get her back in. They acknowledged that it might be necessary for a second look and I see now that it is. X will have to take her, though. I will be on very fragile footing at the new job and it’s time he bore some of the load, too.

The tears are drying up now. I haven’t been sleeping well and that’s another thing to address before the job starts. I will not think myself into failing before I’ve even started, but I am absolutely terrified that I will let down my friend. She put her reputational currency on the line for me. I have to make it worth that.

Time to finish my water, put on some quiet music and get those things done. The day is already moving forward quickly and I have a lot to do.


Progress Takes Patience

I’m notoriously impatient. There’s the old joke about lining up as a soul, prior to taking your mortal form, so you can get the necessities such as patience, curiosity, kindness, etc. The joke that trails me – and I’m the one making it – is that I skipped the line for patience and took a second helping of curiosity.

If there is a word that has defined me during my lifespan, it’s “Why?” Close behind would be “what?”, “how?”, and “when?”

It’s not lost on me that I might have made a good newspaper reporter way back in the days before the internet. When I write that, I envision the plucky girl reporter in the 40’s, wearing trousers and talking fast.

Anyway, that digression aside, I’m awaiting a call at 11am in which I’ll be offered a job and we’ll figure out the details about my onboarding. It means notifying the nonprofit ED that I’m no longer available. I’ll have to let my friend that referred me to the nonprofit know that I’m withdrawing due to this other opportunity. I know she’ll understand that this is the best way to take care of my family.

The wait from interview and post-interview touchpoint has been long. I’ve been filling my days with things to distract me and now I feel that I’m ok to set up the systems I’ll need to start off on the right foot. A clean, orderly space is a must-have. Prompts to ensure that I’ve got my world in a routine will also be needed. I’m brainstorming and reading ADDitude’s website for things to use for it. Spicy Ginger has a laminating machine and I think I’ll craft some good weekly flipcards for me and Youngest, so we can stay on top of our world. Nothing too restricting, or we’ll get resentful, but I’m sure I can create something that will guide us.

In the interim, I am back to simplifying my food world so I can get my body to release the excess weight. I need exercise, as well, so I’m collaborating with those around me to get things going. By my estimate, it’s going to take most of the next two years to turn around the load I’m carrying on my body and get off all but one of eight medications I have to take daily. Less weight equals less pain, too. And when I keep to my simplified nutrition plan, I have much less reflux to deal with.

The really big one that I’m tackling is the restoration of my immune system. I need to build up my intermittent fasting time to a level where I can do the lengthier fast that will reboot my immune system. I can’t take being sick all the time. It’s mentally wearing me down and that’s the last thing I need.

And finally, let’s talk the cognition restoration that’s going on since I had my cataracts removed. I’m almost 3 months post-op and I do feel that I’m still regaining my sharpness. I know that it won’t be a full recovery and I’m not asking for that. The window, according to the study I read, is the first six months and it syncs up with what I’m experiencing. I feel like I made the greatest strides in the first two months and it’s now smaller incremental gains. Of course, I had COVID in the midst of all this, so that could easily have an impact.

I suppose it’s time to brew up a cup of tea and take my morning meds. I’m a bit late taking them, as I had to scoot over and pick up my new distance/driving progressives. It’s my black cateye frames with the rhinestones and holy hell! The lenses are SO THIN! My eyes don’t disappear in them and damn, they are cute. Things are clearer when I wear them, so that is good but they are not for computer work, so I’m sticking with my Foster Grant progressives for the computer. They are blue light filtering, so they help me with fatigue.

Yeah. Lots going on and a lot to do before day 1 of the new direction. This will be my first time REALLY working outside public service since 2010. I am looking forward to stretching to meet this new opportunity. And dammit, I have to do some serious retirement fund building or I’m going to end up unable to retire at any point.


No Resolutions, Just Resolve

My mantras now include this one: Start as you mean to go on. I did that yesterday and I’m holding it in my mind, whether it’s the start of the year, the day, or a project or job.

Way back in the olden days, ie, my 20’s, I took snowboarding lessons from this amazing tiny woman. I was terrified of pointing my board down the mountain and she told me to say the word “aggression” to myself when I did it. Sounds too simple, right? How can a word be so… emphatic and effective? I did it and yes, it did work. I was able to use that to overcome my timidity and my need for control right at the moment I needed to let go of holding on too tight.

So yesterday I started thinking about the word “brave” and about how I need to be more like I was as a little kid before life taught me that there is so much to fear. Brave doesn’t mean no fear. It just means that you look at your fear and let go just enough to move past it.

My words for 2023 include: brave, strength, joy, love, and peace. They can have different meanings, depending upon the circumstances I face as I move through this new time period, but I want to lean on them and lean into them and relish them, like good food. Sure, I have goals for this year and I will actively seek to make them happen, but I’m not going to live focused solely on those things as faltering steps or falling on my face can often make me retreat into myself. I really want to point my board down the mountain and let go for just a little bit.


Limbo, No Dancing

Let’s do the quickie status check, shall we? MRI showed nothing and they didn’t do the contrast, so it was just scary and claustrophobic, but at least we know it’s not my cervical spine having issues. Eye doc said he thought the blurred vision was neurologic, not artificial lens related. I have thoughts on that, but will just sit back and see (ha!) what happens.

I am being offered the job with the nonprofit – contract employment for 6 months, then if it’s a fit, permanent in their new fiscal year. The pay being offered is excellent and the job is a great fit for my talents, but… and I hate to write this: I want the job with the large company. It has a better future for me. Lot’s of opportunity for growth before I head off into retirement sunset.

No word yet on the large company position I interviewed for. I will say this – in my experience, when I don’t hear for longer than they had expected for the decision, I am typically not their choice. I feel like I’m held in reserve in case the primary pick, or picks, declines.

I’m not worried or fretting. I simply wish to have things settled so I can spend my few weeks before work starts in focus on making myself as healthy as possible. I understand that it’s wasted mental effort spending my time pondering this limbo, but much like a tongue probing a damaged tooth, I can’t stop what is my natural curiosity from poking at the situation.

And yes, I hate magic shows, too. I don’t like these unknowns when it directly impinges on my mental processes!

I’m drugged to the eyeballs, or rather, I’m still in the after-effects of last night’s meds. It’s the gabapentin making me groggy. I needed it, though. The headache of the last couple weeks resurfaced yesterday with a vengeance.

I’m trying not to contemplate 2023 too much. I’m being almost superstitious about it and I think it’s because I’m pinning a lot of hopes on it to be better than the trainwreck of 2022. Actually, I’d like to end 2022 with a smile on my face. Consider it my way of flipping off the grief, pain, and vulnerability of this year’s events.

Time to do something away from the screen on my laptop. I wish all of you a happy “in between holidays” week.


Nonprofit Site Visit

I got to visit the office and meet the staff who report to the ED I interviewed with on Saturday. It’s a very small staff and they are so nice. We had a good rapport and the visit was excellent. I absolutely LOVE their space, but I have concerns about where I’d be able to work in it when all staff are present. It’s a little old brick house that has been split into a duplex, with one nonprofit on one side and this one in the larger side.

There is only one small dedicated office with the ED’s desk and the office manager’s desk in it. The office manager is only there 20 hours per week, so there will be times when it’s open. But I didn’t see evidence of a dual monitor set up, which is important for doing the financials and data collection tasks. I know that sounds picky, but I’ve worked in my field both ways and if they want me to be able to do it well, I need the dual monitors.

Parking is a bear. It’s two blocks from the State Capitol building and parking is tense and limited. There are only two dedicated spaces and the ED has one, while the office manager has the other. I can navigate that issue and don’t see it as a huge problem, but it could get tough to deal with.

The big issue, and this is a deal killer, is the issue of benefits – primarily insurance.

None of the staff have it presently and the ED is aware that it has to be in place. I had originally told her that I have Medicaid until 9/30/2023; however, I just read that Congress looks to be passing a bill that will end the coverage I’m eligible for by April. This could potentially change the whole option to even consider going with the nonprofit.

When I got home from the visit, I received an email from the recruiter at the large national company that I’m still in consideration for the position and they will make the decision next week. As I mentioned previously, I’m not counting that it will happen. There are too many unknowns for me to have a good take on whether or not they will actually make me an offer.

I considered starting up my search again; however, I’m tired after a poor night’s sleep and I have cleaning to do today. Tomorrow is going to be crazy busy and it’s best if I rest and do what is needed around the house.

And I’m still on the fence about which would be the better job for me. If insurance weren’t an issue at all, I think I’m leaning towards the nonprofit. The work they are doing is so dear to me that it’s probably not something I can walk away from.

At the same time, if I focus on my family and my possible future retirement, then the large national company is the better option. There will not be retirement funds at the nonprofit.

And in the end? That may be all I need to know if the big company makes an offer. Age and infirmity are coming for me and some day I’d like to actually stop working so I can be elderly in peace. HA!

Good luck with that one, right?


Time for relaxation and some rest, then cleaning.


One month and what a difference

It has now been just short of one month when Spicy Ginger, Youngest, and I got COVID and entered the “limbo zone”. The cough I got with it was so severe that it did neck and shoulder damage that I’m still dealing with. I have an MRI coming up this Thursday evening to see if I have a pinched nerve. I’ve been in gradually escalating and then steady pain since 11/27. I’m over it all.

I also managed to cough a rib out in my back, leading to all kinds of testing because doc thought I might have pneumonia. I missed almost 3 1/2 weeks of work and instead of failing me on my probation, they gave me the option to resign for personal reasons. So on Wednesday12/14 I became unemployed.

Then on Saturday, 12/17, I had an almost 3 hour Zoom meeting with the Executive Director of a local nonprofit that supports families and youth who are dealing with mental health issues. We’re still in process of confirming details, but I was offered the opportunity to work for them as the operations manager handling their financials and data collection. And then on Monday 12/19 I interviewed with a large national company and it seemed to go well. They’re looking to make a decision by this Thursday, 12/22, with the intention to have the person start mid-January.

Either option gives me a few weeks to do my best to fix the issue with my neck and shoulder, get as healthy as possible, and try not to lose my shit.

THEN on Sunday night/Monday morning at 1am I woke up and more than half my sight in my left eye was blurry and I couldn’t see properly. I (of course) lost my shit because it was the middle fo the night and what the hell was I going to do when I had a big interview at 4pm that coming day plus how the hell would I work like that. I’m ultra high risk for detached retina because of my extreme myopia and I just had double cataract surgery and lens replacements in both eyes. Of course it was the lens that had shifted. I forced myself back to sleep after being truly over 2022 in the most profound way. I woke up at 5:30am with my vision back… indicating that it wasn’t a detached retina, which I had feared, but actually the lens had shifted. Mum still drove me to my interview that day as I didn’t want anything to interfere with it and I made it home just fine.

I’m seeing my eye doc on Thursday (that’s going to be a big day) and hopefully the shifted lens didn’t do any damage.

So the crux of all this is I am totally fucking over 2022. I mean absolutely, 100% over it.

Positive things I can say right now? I can see. Holy fuck, thank hell. I love Spicy Ginger like crazy and he loves me. My kids are alive and functioning. My mum is spunky as ever, even if her dominant hand is fucked up. Our animals are doing fairly well… even the blind chicken we’ve adopted. I’ve got career opportunities that are potentially in front of me and they are equally amazing, although I’m not holding my breath that I’ll get an offer from the big national company. We shall see. I did NOT embarass myself in the interview and I can be very fucking grateful for that.

I have no idea what 2023 will bring. I don’t even want to try to speculate. I think my guardian angel has been working overtime the last couple of years and couldn’t we both use a break?

As we approach Winter Solstice, I send out a hope for better days ahead.


Steady and Off We Go

Back to work after being out two weeks due to COVID. I’m off-kilter and my routine is smashed. I worked hard on my resume this weekend, so I feel proud of that. I got dishes and laundry done, although, there is always more.

I wrote on Facebook this morning that I’m nervous, but actually, I think that word is inaccurate. It’s less that I’m nervous and more that my routine is off and I depend upon my routine in order to hold steady each day. I also had an epiphany last night and have greater understanding about myself and my fears.

I’ll jot this here so I don’t forget, but the crux of it is this: I’m afraid of getting married again because I’m afraid of having the same thing happen that X and I went through. I love my Spicy Ginger and the thought of watching that love wither and die under the onslaught of life makes me ill. I’m still grieving how things went with X, too. I suspect he would be surprised about that, but it’s true.

It doesn’t lessen my love for Spicy Ginger – it’s just a fact of human nature that I’d look back on that life and be sad that the love we had wasn’t enough.

Why am I thinking about this? Well, within the next year or two, Spicy Ginger, Youngest, and I will be living together – if all goes according to the loose plans I’m aware of. Knowledge of this came about as I was realizing that I understand why I’m afraid of marrying again and even living together (rather than across a driveway from each other) scares me.

I’m a hard person to live with. There’s more to write, but it’s time to wrap this up and get ready for work.

I’m not nervous about going back to work. I’m tired. My routine is off. My neck and shoulder STILL hurt. Some worries are still shouting in my brain, but mostly I just need to return to a routine and shake off this disruption. Every time I have even the slightest doubts about my autism, these needs that are constant and demanding remind me that I am, indeed on the spectrum. Our home is in disarray from the time I’ve been sick but even more from the injury to my shoulder and neck. Oh hell… let’s be honest, it’s from my brain needing things to be simply and clear. My home is over-crowded, chaotic and a mess. My ND brain can’t handle it and so I shut down. Now I get to return to work where I have my orderly space and a part of me is thrilled.

Time to drink a cup of herbal tea and dress. The flock will have to be let out just before work, as it’s dark and foggy right now. I send out a blast of thanks to my friends and my dear family. I could almost weep at how wonderful they are. I send out a blast of love to my children as they face the day. And I send out a blast of love to my Spicy Ginger, who is my amazing love.