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Category: The Year of Living Intentionally

And Then I Told Them Don’t Ever Use That One in School

So you know that little year of awesome I’m trying to chase down? This whole getting back to basics so I can be a better person/mom/citizen? Let me just give you a quick update, based on a conversation I overheard between Saoirse and Quinlan.  The scene: We’d just gotten home from school, and we’re sitting at the kitchen table. I was helping the girls sort their homework and Saoirse was talking about a recent dance-a-thon her school held as a fundraiser for cancer research.  In passing, Saoirse mentioned that she didn’t know some of the songs played during the thon: “We didn’t get to pick any of the songs, because I think they let fifth graders got to do that.” There was a pause. “They had bad words in those songs,” she said.  “What?” I said, taken aback. “They did?” And before I could stop myself, “what words?”  Saoirse looked at me sideways and smirked. “I heard the s word!” Quinlan perked up at this. “What’s the s word?” &#8220…

Step Two: Back Away from the Internet

Note: This is part of a recurring series of posts I’m calling The Year of Living Intentionally. (Unofficially, I’m calling it That Time Leah Decided to Get Her Shit Together.) You’ll be able to access all the posts here. I hope you’ll join me on the adventure. Or, specifically, social media. You know the culprits: Instagram. Twitter. Facebook. (I realize that you can identify my age to the year by what social media I use. You young whippersnappers–just sub in whatever cool platforms you’re on now for my archaic ones.) You get the idea, right? Do you ever get embarrassed by it? That tic that makes you reach for your phone if it’s been away from you for longer than a second? Have you ever scrolled through a newsfeed and actually wondered to yourself why you keep scrolling, even though you just saw those same images minutes ago? Put down the bleeping phone, you guys. If you’re going to sit down at night to read a book, finish the chapter–we used to do it all the time a decade ago. If you’re going to…

Get the Message, Already

“Hey,” I said to David on Saturday. “Let’s try to go to the 9:45 mass tomorrow so we can have the rest of the day to ourselves, okay?” “You think you can do that?” he asked. “Um, yeah,” I said. I was super sweet about it. Totally sweet. Not defensive at all. “Of course. It’s 9:45. We’re up three hours before that most days anyway. Why wouldn’t I possibly be ready?”  Fast forward to Sunday morning. I slept in (because, weekend), then scrolled through my phone for a bit with my coffee while Cian played with a Milennium Falcon on the bed beside me, right up until the moment I remembered I had to prep the chili for the crock pot or we’d be eating leftover pizza for dinner. Fifteen minutes later, in the middle of the chopping of the onions, I decided that it’d also be a good idea to also prep the rest of the ingredients for the week’s dinners. It was right around 9:30 when David approached me and said…