A compilation of the random things I tell myself and what I’d tell many women navigating life –
Girl, you don’t need another eye cream. You need a consistent sleep routine.
Girl, you don’t need excuses. You need actions.
Girl, you don’t need to use AI. You need to use 4 functioning brain cells.
Girl, you don’t need to date someone in the church. You were told to bring someone to church! If you read this and think these shoes fit you, they probably do. Put them on, march yourself outside, and start looking.
Girl, you don’t need any more energy drinks and you sure don’t need to check your blood pressure while drinking it. You need water!
Girl, you don’t need another cookie…wait, yes, you do!
P.S. do not try the newest Blue Bell flavor, chocolate lava cake. I want it all for myself!
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I ask you –
Anything to add to this compilation?
Have you tried the new ice cream flavor?!
(The post Girl, yes, you do first appeared here at Running on Fumes.)
Finally, the culmination of months of dance, dance practices, rehearsals, fall recital, costume changes, new shoes, and lost accessories – henceforth, the recital! This is the first year Mini hasn’t been galivanting across the U.S. on her summer travels so she actually had time to participate in the final 4 weeks leading up to the big summer recital. I didn’t know how much work went into the final weeks. Somehow we also managed a volleyball camp in here, too, which is shocking. And ambitious.
My biggest complaint…only complaint…is I missed the mud volleyball tournament because, apparently, our city chose the short stick (for 2 years in a row?!) to host Independence Day festivities the weekend prior to the holiday. I’m irked. This same weekend coincided with recital so decisions were made. I chose volleyball and I was vetoed. So here I am in a dress instead of a swimsuit covered in mud. What a sacrifice.
So what’s next? A 6-week break, then we do it again! I can’t recall at the moment but I do believe Mini is doing musical theater and ballet next semester? I don’t know.
This is fun, right?!
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I ask you –
When does your community host July 4th festivities?
It’s been “years” since we had a girl’s day, according to mini. So, during a midweek holiday, we drank coffee, shopped, and genuinely enjoyed not being rushed or fighting huge crowds of people with the same intentions.
On the drive home, the song Lowrider came on the radio. Mini’s body instinctively started moving. She just can’t help herself. Raised on good music from only the best decades (ahem), and with her dancer’s heart, her arms were moving, her head was going another direction, and her body was wiggling. She proudly exclaimed, “I don’t know what this is but it’s a jam!”
For posterity, of course I support local Noodle monster She supports anything with boba
Earlier in the day, she couldn’t know I was lost in thought regarding a commercial – something about Kelsey Grammer saying veterans return from missions often hampered by internal and external turmoil, dealing with what they’ve seen or experienced but unable to openly share the struggles. It reminded me of a post I had seen that morning regarding how the stigma of PTSD was reduced by removing the D, the word disorder from it. PTS is somehow not as triggering as PTSD although the concept, symptoms, treatment, and worldview mostly remain the same. Are you following? The post went on to say just because you reduced the acronym doesn’t mean a veteran should reduce their need to firmly continue using the full PTSD terminology when seeking VA benefits or any kind of medical care.
Stay with me here. Mini couldn’t have known I was down this rabbit hole. We’re driving. Amicable silence. Me lost in thought. Apparently she was, too. Because she blurts out, “Mom, do grasshoppers bite?!” Her innocence knocked me out of my loophole. No, I don’t know if they bite. But I do know that perhaps the girl’s day was more about self-care and reconnection than it was about the shopping or the coffee.
The screenshot above is courtesy of Mission 22 via Instagram. There are several slides detailing the changes so please use the link I furnished to read further.
Moral of the story –
You can change the acronym but you can’t change the very real effects. You can remove a word but you can’t remove being seen. You can request the VA update their terminology but you should never expect a veteran to overlook what is happening to them and the care they deserve to receive.
____________________________
I ask you –
Ask mini how she pronounces purchases. Trust me. You’ll need this laugh!
I’m both thankful and surprised this month flew by. I thought it would never end.
From traversing over 2,000 miles in just a few days to executing 2 large-scale work events (only 1 of which I actively had anything to do with) to fighting to keep what little budget we have to completing my services course practicum a week before the deadline – May was a lot. May it only come around once a year.
Unfortunately, the day before Mother’s Day, I failed to log any type of workout session so my streak ended there. The goal had been to log an activity for 365 days. I guess 364 will do. That day was busy – we had a community event, followed by graduation photos, then some other stuff I can’t recall. The workout just didn’t happen.
courtesy of Strava
I’ve also been struggling with some hip/lower back pain. A lifelong injury. Although I prehab, rehab, stretch, modify, eat right, drink enough water, limit sugar, and do all the things – still it persists. But the show must go on.
Surely I’m missing a huge part of this recap but, again, I’m mostly thankful May is over. For me, June is the first indicator of summer – with pool days, sunscreen, vacation plans, books by the dozen, lazy mornings, and all the iced coffee I can drink. We’ll see how it shakes out.
P.S. Today is Global Running Day so you know where I’ll be.
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I ask you –
Highlights of your May – please share!
(The post May Recap first appeared here at Running on Fumes.)
I have an insane amount of photos from graduation week/day/weekend prior.
Many of my photos from the Liberty University campus in Lynchburg, VA, are places I “spent” time at during my PhD program. Having not seen them in person until recently, I had a picture in my head. However, this could simply be the most beautiful campus I’ve ever seen.
We drank so much coffee driving to VA from TX. Not pictured: an additional 2 or so coffee shops in Virginia.
Tennessee Tennessee Virginia Virginia
It was an incredibly long drive with a very short day of ceremonies, but I would encourage anyone to walk the stage at whatever school one graduates from. It’s such an honor to be surrounded by others who probably experienced many of the same headaches and who also celebrated some of the same wins.
We survived a 2500+ mile round trip (in under 4 days) to arrive home to this surprise. Not entirely pictured: a ginormous key lime pie cheesecake. Might have eaten 3 pieces at once. Parts may give me the hardest time but her support is immeasurable.
Part’s handiwork
I’m saving the food and extra coffee photos for my next post. Standby.
Friends! Spectacular view
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I ask you –
Even though I graduated in 2025, I waited a year to walk the stage. Hope you have much success in all your life’s endeavors!
(The post Commencement Funfirst appeared here at Running on Fumes.)
I am very aware my social media presence is a source of contention. But I have a few good reasons.
First, it’s unsafe. Constant posting is triangulated to where you work, what you do, who you interact with, how you spend your time, your associations, your family members, etc. And I resent the fact I can be triangulated using someone else’s social media. I didn’t ask for that. I didn’t agree to it.
Second, along the same lines as numero uno, it unfairly creates a profile of my family, notably family members without social media, especially those too young to engage in it. They should never be held to whatever standard I inadvertently created for them in a growing digital world. Employees, educators, and acquaintances have access to them. And it can be used against them. Just no.
Third, growth happens in private. Behind closed doors. Recognition of growth is admirable, celebrated. I’m all for it! But not at the expense of what quietly achieving my goals is worth to me. So I’ll share the nuggets, the brief glimpses, but the big reveal comes when I’m ready, comfortable with the outcome. Not as a response to what I “should” post.
Not posting has nothing to do with shame, or hiding. For me, it’s all about protection of my peace, my family, and my growth. Conversation with others happens when electronic devices are silenced, the focus shifts, and real connection is made. It’s a hard lesson – to be willing to escape societal norms but I’m finally starting to understand it’s where real peace lies.
And wherever there is peace is where I want to be.
_____________________
I ask you –
How often do you post on social media?
Do you inadvertently (or intentionally) post family members?
(The post Grow out loudfirst appeared here at Running on Fumes.)
Truly, I believe everyone has those showstopper moments. Those moments in life so powerful they could bring you to your knees, and they run the gamut of emotions. Joy, pain, sorrow, grief. The list is endless.
Aunt Mary Catherine is my showstopper. I’m sure I could name other people or experiences with similar ease yet she was my first. And dare I say best.
These photos mean everything to me. “If pictures were possessions, these would be my most coveted.” I never want to forget the feel of her hand in mine. I never want to forget her smile. I never want to forget the recognition in her eyes despite the inability to verbalize my name. The feel of her lips against my hand as she kissed it countless times, the feel of her soft cheeks against my own lips, the numerous I love you’s back and forth. The love I have for her nearly brings me to tears. But all I could do was smile.
As her voice now fades to a whisper, I promise her to sing with my whole heart, the beautiful, showstopping baritone voice she has but only a memory in my mind. Yet, when I sing, I lift my voice as strongly as hers.
Although some of her sentences were the ramblings of years of thoughts and memories which have become tumbled onto endless paths, her eyes are still so alive with important things to share, observations of an intelligent woman who still desires to serve others.
And her sense of humor is off the charts. She offered to get up from her wheelchair to let me “use the car”. She also said “I reckon we could leave but they might catch us”. Fortunately for the women in my family, and unfortunately for the men, we tend to outlive our counterparts, spouses, and anybody with testosterone.
But if you ask me about the most profound thing she said, I’d tell you this: “I’m waiting on my husband to come get me. He says I’m not done here yet.” Selfishly, I want her here 99 more years. As impossible as it is, every moment with her is a blessing and she is the true heart of love I envisioned when naming mini. My showstoppers.
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I ask you –
Who is your showstopper?
Who is the oldest living person in your family?
(The post 99 Years Young first appeared here at Running on Fumes.)
I’ve started, restarted, paused, abandoned, and now wait for the finality of a draft post, titled The Day I Had Coffee with Her. Some time ago, there was a social media trend of the same title, basically stating what you would tell your younger self. A few posts that came across my feed were very deep, mentioning trauma and abuse, while some just shared encouraging memories. I jumped on the proverbial wagon, but I didn’t finish it. Yet.
In a way, this is my homage to the unfinished post.
I sit alone. And I am unafraid. Never lonely. Yet alone. Some events make me question myself. Some even bring back very tough memories or experiences. Some I thought I was over. Turns out I’m not. So I sit alone with the pain.
Even when the fear ebbs and wanes, I am unafraid. Fear is psychological and I am aware of my limitations, my weaknesses, my inability to turn away from feeling it. Fear is not failure. And words do not own me. So I protect me by sitting alone.
Those old patterns are tempting. Too easy to return to my old ways. But I know every curve in the road, every pothole waiting to derail me. Swerve. I sit alone, in the driver’s seat, in control.
It’s lonely at the top. When the decisions rest on my shoulders and hard news is hard on everyone. I sit alone, pondering how much easier it would have been to gloss over the truth, to abandon what must be said. I could invite others to sit with me. Yet the consequences are far too great. I sit alone out of self-respect.
I’m not sorry for choosing to sit alone, when the choice is mine. I’m not a failure for sitting alone when the choice is made for me. Sitting is an opportunity to rest. And no one knows me better than me. So I sit alone.
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I ask you –
Are you familiar with the “Coffee with Her” trend?
(The post I Sit Alone first appeared here at Running on Fumes.)
We celebrated 10 years! Instead of the traditional party, we made a quick trip to DFW to eat, shop, and generally create chaos. Success! With cash in hand, Mini made good choices and reckless choices, but her “loot” (as she calls it) was quite satisfying.
A fabulous brunch at The Brunch District in Addison. Truly a best kept secret. Mini’s Eggs Benedict stole the show. Once a girl who avoided anything considered spicy, she has opened her mind and taste buds to new things…and a taste for simple spicy.
We drank a lot of coffee. Of course. The Ninja Kids Adventure Park was also a hit.
And we shopped until we nearly dropped. Better than a party, in my opinion, and so much fun. The experience was worth the drive, the stormy weather, and the very late arrival home.
My sweet 10-yr-old is a happy, kind, beautiful, strong, young lady with an appreciation for fun and chaos. Her wide smile is shared with everyone. And her critical opinions are both humorous and fearsome. As some would say, she’s a hoot!
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I ask you –
Tell me your favorite birthday memory!
(The post Ten! first appeared here at Running on Fumes.)
On my birthday weekend, Mini outdid herself! She ran a 5k with me, she finally showed up to help me with the short disciples, and she found a new bathing suit! All tougher than they look.
A whole photo shoot, courtesy of mini.
For 3.14, we celebrated Pie Day with a 5k and pie! Any excuse to eat pie is a good one in my book, so I didn’t need convincing. Mini chose blueberry pie, which we both enjoyed. She came in first in her age group…and now that I’m in a new age bracket (40-49) I also placed first in my age group!
The following week I managed 2 runs, twice as many as achieved nearly the entire month prior. Now, to keep the streak alive.
Not much for this post. Hope you all have an amazing day!
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I ask you –
If you like pie, what is your favorite? Aunt Mary Catherine’s blueberry pie.
Running on Fumes 
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