Category: Family & Parenting

Published: March 11, 2024 | Last Updated on: March 11, 2024
| by Hema

As parents, we’re always on the lookout for nutritious options that not only cater to the health needs of our children but also appeal to their often picky taste preferences.

So this blog post is dedicated to Protein Rich Smoothie for Kids, the secrets of creating delicious, protein-packed smoothies that your kids will not only love to drink but will also provide them with the essential nutrients they need for their active, growing bodies. So, let’s join on this flavorful journey together, and transform the way your little ones enjoy their daily dose of nutrition.

Health Benefits of Adding Fruits, Seeds and Nuts in your Kids Diet

Incorporating fruits, seeds and nuts into your child’s diet can significantly enhance their nutritional intake and overall health. These natural food items are packed with essential vitamins, minerals, antioxidants, and other beneficial compounds that play a crucial role in healthy development and disease prevention. Here’s a closer look of health benefits that fruits, seeds and nuts offer to children:

• Enhanced Nutritional Intake: Fruits, seeds, and nuts are packed with essential vitamins, minerals, and other nutrients that are vital for children’s growth and development.
• Improved Brain Function: Omega-3 fatty acids found in nuts and seeds, like walnuts and flaxseeds, support brain health and cognitive function, enhancing learning and memory.
• Stronger Immune System: The vitamins and minerals in fruits, such as vitamin C in oranges and zinc in pumpkin seeds, help strengthen the immune system, reducing the risk of infections and illnesses.
• Better Digestive Health: High fiber content in fruits, seeds, and nuts promotes healthy digestion and can help prevent constipation in children.
• Heart Health: The healthy fats in nuts and seeds, like almonds and chia seeds, contribute to a healthy heart by maintaining healthy cholesterol levels.
• Healthy Skin and Hair: Vitamins A and E, found in fruits and nuts like peaches and almonds, contribute to healthy skin and hair, preventing conditions such as eczema and promoting hair growth.
• Bone Development: Calcium-rich nuts and seeds, such as almonds and sesame seeds, along with fruits high in Vitamin K, like kiwis, support bone health and development.
• Weight Management: The fiber and healthy fats in these foods can help regulate appetite and prevent overeating, contributing to healthy weight management.
• Improved Eye Health: Vitamin A and beta-carotene in fruits like mangoes and apricots support good vision and eye health.
• Reduced Inflammation: Certain fruits, seeds, and nuts have anti-inflammatory properties that can help reduce inflammation in the body, benefiting overall health.
• Enhanced Hydration: Fruits with high water content, such as watermelon and oranges, help keep children hydrated, especially important during hot weather or physical activity.
• Stabilized Energy Levels: The combination of natural sugars, fiber, and healthy fats in fruits, seeds, and nuts provides a stable energy release, keeping children active and energetic.
• Lower Risk of Chronic Diseases: Regular consumption of these nutrient-rich foods from an early age can lower the risk of developing chronic diseases such as diabetes, heart disease, and certain cancers in the long term.
• Mood Improvement: The essential nutrients found in fruits, seeds, and nuts, such as magnesium in pumpkin seeds, can have a positive effect on a child’s mood and help reduce anxiety and stress.
• Encourages Healthy Eating Habits: Introducing a variety of fruits, seeds, and nuts early in life helps children develop a taste for healthy foods, setting the foundation for good eating habits that last a lifetime.

Recipe

Ingredients

• 1 banana
• 1 apple
• 1 dates
• 10 almonds
• Ice Cubes
• 1 tbsp flax seeds
• 1 tbsp chia seeds
• 1/2 cup water

Instructions

• Peel the banana and cut it into slices.
• Wash the apple, remove the core, and cut it into small pieces.
• If your date isn’t already pitted, remove the pit and chop it into smaller pieces.
• (Optional) Soak the almonds in water for a few hours or overnight, then drain. This can help them blend more smoothly.
• Add the banana slices, apple pieces, pitted date, almonds (soaked or not), 1 tablespoon of flax seeds, and 1 tablespoon of chia seeds into a blender.
• Add about 1/2 cup of water to help everything blend smoothly. Adjust the amount of water based on how thick or thin you like your smoothie.
• Add a handful of ice cubes to the blender.
• Blend everything together until smooth. If the smoothie is too thick, you can add a little more water and blend again until it reaches your desired consistency.
• Once everything is fully blended and smooth, pour your smoothie into a glass and enjoy immediately for the best flavor and nutrient retention.

It’s a delicious and efficient way to ensure they receive the essential nutrients necessary for their growth, development, and daily energy needs. Not only do these smoothies offer a myriad of health benefits—from supporting physical growth and cognitive development to stabilizing energy levels and enhancing immune function—they also present an opportunity for creativity and variety in your child’s diet. With the flexibility to mix and match ingredients based on preferences and nutritional needs, parents can craft enjoyable, healthy beverages that children look forward to.

Moreover, establishing healthy eating habits, like incorporating nutrient-dense smoothies, can set the stage for a lifetime of wise dietary choices. As we’ve explored, the benefits of protein-rich smoothies extend beyond just satisfying hunger; they are a foundation for a healthy, vibrant life for your growing child. So, the next time you’re blending up a storm in the kitchen, remember that with each sip, your child is not just enjoying a tasty treat but also fueling their body in the best way possible. Cheers to a simple, nutritious solution that kids love and parents can feel good about!

Frequently Asked Questions

Protein Rich Smoothie for Kids

This blog post is dedicated to Protein Rich Smoothie for Kids ,the secrets of creating delicious, protein-packed smoothies that your kids will love it.

Print Pin Rate

Course: Smoothie

Cuisine: Indian

Keyword: smoothie

Ingredients

• 1 banana
• 1 Apple
• 1 dates
• 10 almonds
• Ice Cubes
• 1 tbsp flax seeds
• 1 tbsp chia seeds
• 1/2 cup water

Instructions

• Peel the banana and cut it into slices.

• Wash the apple, remove the core, and cut it into small pieces.

• If your date isn't already pitted, remove the pit and chop it into smaller pieces.

• (Optional) Soak the almonds in water for a few hours or overnight, then drain. This can help them blend more smoothly.

• Add the banana slices, apple pieces, pitted date, almonds (soaked or not), 1 tablespoon of flax seeds, and 1 tablespoon of chia seeds into a blender.

• Add about 1/2 cup of water to help everything blend smoothly. Adjust the amount of water based on how thick or thin you like your smoothie.

• Add a handful of ice cubes to the blender.

• Blend everything together until smooth. If the smoothie is too thick, you can add a little more water and blend again until it reaches your desired consistency.

• Once everything is fully blended and smooth, pour your smoothie into a glass and enjoy immediately for the best flavor and nutrient retention.

I love going on trips. But coming back from a trip can be wonderful too. But the unpacking part is probably the hardest thing for me and I’m sure others as well. The fact that things can be up in the air and rushing last minute before you leave means that… you come home sometimes to what can feel like a disaster and not a welcoming place. (I understand why my ex always wanted to clean the house before we left on a trip, but it doesn’t work for me… but it has its perks.) Then on top of that, dealing with all the laundry, etc… It took me a bit more than a few days, to be honest, to get my house back in order after our recent trip to Cyprus. So, if anyone would appreciate these tips, its me. I hope you find these post vacation home organization tips useful!

Alright, globetrotter! You’ve just returned from an epic vacation filled with adventure, relaxation, and perhaps a few too many souvenirs. Now, reality hits hard as you face the chaos of unpacking and organizing your home. Fear not, intrepid traveler, for I’ve got the ultimate guide to turn your post-vacation chaos into domestic bliss.

Declutter As You Unpack

Take a critical look at your belongings as you unpack. Did you really need that extra pair of flip-flops? Use this opportunity to declutter items you no longer want or need. Oshkosh dumpster rental can help you here. They’ve got just the right size of dumpsters to dump any garbage you like to get rid of. Your home will thank you for the breathing room.

Tackle the Fridge Fiasco

Home sweet home – and a not-so-sweet smell emanating from the fridge. Quickly rid your kitchen of any potential science experiments by tossing expired items. It’s a small task with a big impact on the overall freshness of your home.

Bathroom Revival

Your bathroom deserves some post-vacation pampering, too. Clean out expired toiletries, replace that almost-empty shampoo bottle, and hang up those fresh towels. It’s like giving your bathroom a spa day.

Command Center For Mail And Documents

Papers, bills, and post-vacation mail tend to accumulate quickly. Establish a command center for all things paper-related. File important documents, discard junk mail, and pay those bills promptly to avoid any unpleasant surprises.

Bedding Bonanza

There’s nothing like the sweet embrace of your own bed after a long journey. Strip the bed and throw the linens in the wash while you unpack. A fresh set of sheets will make your return to reality feel like a luxurious escape.

Tech Detox And Recharge

Your gadgets have been working hard to capture those picture-perfect moments. Give them a well-deserved break by organizing charging cables, uploading photos, and deleting unnecessary files. A little tech detox goes a long way.

Create A Zen Zone

Amidst the chaos, designate a corner or a room as your Zen Zone. Keep it clutter-free, add a touch of greenery, and make it a space where you can relax and reminisce about your adventures. It’s your sanctuary within the post-vacation storm.

Don’t Forget The Pooch

Furry friends might not understand where you’ve been, but they’ll appreciate a bit of post-vacation attention. Reconnect with your pets (if you have one), wash their bowls, and make sure their space is as comfy as yours. A happy pet is a happy home.

Let The Music Play

Turn your unpacking marathon into a dance party. Create a playlist of your favorite tunes, and let the music set the rhythm for your organizational adventure. It’s incredible how much more enjoyable tasks become with a good beat.

Get Creative With Storage

Limited on space? Get creative with storage solutions. Utilize under-the-bed storage, hanging organizers, and multi-functional furniture. Your home will feel more organized and spacious, even if you went a little overboard with the shopping.

Family Or Roommate Pow-wow

If you share your space, gather the troops for a quick meeting. Discuss any organizational strategies, divvy up tasks, and make it a team effort. Many hands make light work, and you might even discover new, efficient ways to keep things in order.

Celebrate Small Victories

Finally, found a place for that quirky souvenir? Celebrate! Acknowledge and appreciate the small victories throughout the organizing process. It’s these moments that turn a daunting task into a satisfying accomplishment.

Turning your home from a post-vacation battlefield doesn’t have to be a Herculean task. With a bit of planning, a touch of creativity, and a sprinkle of enthusiasm, you’ll be sipping tea in your decluttered living room in no time. 

Remember, it’s not just about the destination – it’s about how organized and peaceful the journey back home can be. Happy organizing!

My oldest daughter leaves for college this fall. It’s taken me every bit of her 17 years to finally be at peace with being a stay-at-home mom. It’s hard to type those words and even harder to read back—facing the truth that I have lost so many years to an internal war that I have allowed to rage inside of me unchecked.

Looking back, I have two distinct buckets of memories.

The first bucket held all my joy and fulfillment from being a stay-at-home mom—getting to see the world through my children’s eyes, helping them make connections, watching their personalities develop, and seeing in real time the impact my presence was having on their language and social skills.

The second bucket was filled to the brim with self-recrimination and judgment, rooted in the belief that I wasn’t doing my part to carry the load—the house was never clean, and the laundry was never completed; the to-do list was always growing.

Those buckets became the only lenses through which I viewed and judged the day—and, by extension, myself.

I always felt like I was not doing or contributing enough

My self-worth was all wrapped up in doing for others—a losing proposition magnified by the weight I placed on the fact that I didn’t earn a paycheck. I judged myself a ‘good’ stay-at-home mom on the days when I was super productive—when I engaged well and often with my kids and also prioritized cleaning and cooking. I judged myself a ‘bad’ stay-at-home mom on the days when I chose rest or self-care over the to-do list.

The feeling of not doing or contributing enough became my constant companion and my nearest enemy, preventing me from truly relaxing into rest on any day I deemed I had not been a harsh enough task master to myself.  

No one can prepare you for feelings that come with having kids

No person or book can prepare you for the complexity of feelings that come with having kids—the shedding of the old you and the birth of a new you that exists no longer in relation to your wants and needs but instead to another’s.

Shortly after my first child was born in 2006, I learned of a book called Mommy Wars. I remember running out to the store to buy it, splurging for the full-priced hardcover so that I could get the answer to my question—whether it was better for me to be a stay at home mom or a career mom—sooner rather than later.

Feverishly, I read the book all the way through, only to be disappointed that there was no great secret revealed and no universal path laid out. The author concluded it was where mom was happiest that was best for the child.

I was always easiest on myself during the baby years

In 2008, I gave birth to my second child, and in 2013, my third. As the years went on, I alternated between spurts of peace and spurts of restlessness. My ability to offer myself grace was always easier during the baby years, which were so universally exhausting that I truly believed there wasn’t enough time to do all the things.

As the kids grew older, I learned to predict how I felt about myself by the season. As summer approached, I felt greater worthiness because I was needed at home. I deemed my presence good for the family—I was performing a service. Inevitably, though, as fall approached, I would start to get down on myself, anticipating the kids being out of the house—the need for me to be at home now unwarranted.

On my best days, I could envision going back to all my old jobs and bringing to bear all my acquired stay-at-home mom expertise. On my worst days, I knew no one would hire me with my atrophied, irrelevant skills.

Over the years, I celebrated my fellow stay-at-home mom friends who, by choice or necessity, made the transition back to work, all the while feeling jealous of their paycheck and—what I assumed to be—their validated sense of purpose. Secretly, I wondered what they thought of me—worrying, at worst, that they saw me as reckless and overly privileged to be a stay-at-home mom for as many years as I had.

Not returning to work came at a cost

There were many times I went searching for a paycheck, but the perceived cost in disruption to our lives always outweighed the potential money that would come in.

That decision to not return to work came at a cost.

Last year, we decided to allow our middle child to apply to a private girls high school. We were thrilled when she was accepted but knew we couldn’t afford the full-priced tuition year after year with our oldest starting college the following year. Financial support from the institution was only offered in cases where both parents contributed to the income—in our house, only one parent contributed. 

It was in writing a letter of appeal to the financial aid office that I finally realized the truth that I had been running from for as long as I had been a mom–being a stay-at-home mom didn’t happen to me, nor was it imposed upon me. I chose it again and again, year after year.

For seventeen years, I was afraid to claim that truth because I didn’t believe I was allowed to love a job that didn’t come with a paycheck.

There was a financial price to be paid for being a stay-at-home-mom

If you visit our home, you’ll notice our outsides don’t match our insides. Outside, our home has new siding, soffits, and gutters; a custom entryway door with glass transoms on the side; and new windows, all courtesy of an insurance settlement from when our fireplace encasement detached from the house on a windy day in January 2019.

Inside, you’ll find builder’s-grade carpets and cabinetry, countertops, and lighting fixtures from when the house was built in 1995. Prefab wood floors adorn our foyer, and there’s water damage in the powder room from where my son flooded the bathroom by leaving on the sink when he was a toddler. Rolled vinyl tile crosses the expanse of our kitchen—in the most heavily trafficked areas, the edges peel up and the floorboard underneath is warped.

The couches my husband and I loved to nap on when we were dating in 2001 remain the most comfortable place to stretch out, even as the sage canvas fabric has faded to hombre from 20+ years of uneven sun exposure. You’ll find an oak-wrapped tile-top table in our kitchen purchased from before we were married—you can see where years of cleaning have caused the surface finish to bubble and peel.

The sectional that seemed so fancy and extravagant in 2001—4 recliners!—remains the centerpiece of our family room; only now, to extend the recliner in the spot directly facing the TV, you need to know the special sequence—sit, lean back, wedge your heel both inward and downward simultaneously to get the lift going, then push with your back until the recliner is fully extended.

We rarely choose vacation destinations where the lodging isn’t free—always leveraging family-owned or rented locations—and we tend to drive our cars until the investment to maintain them exceeds what would be required to purchase a new car.

I used to care about it more—having what other people have—but I don’t feel as captive to that prison anymore.

Suddenly, all those decisions I made make sense to me

I don’t know why it all makes sense to me now.

Maybe being at home doesn’t feel so stifling because I’m close enough to where I really feel like I can go back to work if I want. Maybe it’s because I can see how all the puzzle pieces fit together in a way I just couldn’t while I was beating myself up about not working outside the home—the games and field trips I was able to attend and the meaningful carpool conversations and important moments of presence had en route to doctor’s and braces appointments, sporting events and before and after school. 

Maybe it’s because I have again found my voice and my flow in writing, which has always grounded me and felt like home. In my writing, I get to see myself represented as an actual character, not just a figment of my mind warped by judgment and scorn for all the ways I fall short. Writing allows me to stand outside of myself and have compassion for my walk and my choices—something unexpectedly healing and cathartic.

I don’t know what the future holds. 

Some days I envision my husband winding down just as I am getting started.

What I can say for sure is that all these years later, I chose the path I did, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.

More Great Reading:

25 Years of Motherhood: What “Being Here” Means to Me

My children (ages 19 and 21) get to make their own decisions—as long as I agree with them. Yes, I said it, and I’m not proud of it. I never intended to be the pushy mom stifling my children’s individualism or creating a dynamic where, for fear of judgement, they wouldn’t talk to me.

After managing their physical, emotional, and fiscal health since birth, their eighteenth birthday pops up and suddenly they get to reign over themselves, and I legally lose access to their lives? Was that my clue to let go?

Who do I contact about making that legal age thing twenty-five?

Suddenly they are 18 and ready to be independent?

Overnight, my babies were no longer deemed children, but they didn’t have the experience they needed to handle life’s challenges. That might be my fault, but am I the only parent who worried about the grave consequences my kids will suffer if they fail at something?

I do things for them. Maybe too many things. I know it’s time to treat them more like adults, but it’s hard. Very hard. So, like toilet training (the first developmental milestone I couldn’t physically do for my child), I’m approaching my children’s journey to independence in baby steps.

Five ways I’m helping my teens become more independent

1. Don’t call them (they’ll call you) 

When I sent them off to college, I boldly told my kids, “If you want to talk, call me. I will not call you unless I need to tell you something important.” It was my first step at “letting go” (although we track each other on Find My iPhone because looking at their sweet faces on a map makes me smile).

I’m fortunate. They both call at least a few times a week, not because they need something, but to say hello. I stop anything I’m doing and lunge for the phone when they call. I probably always will.

2. Just Listen 

I’ve learned (because she told me) that my daughter doesn’t always want me to solve her problems or give my opinion. Sometimes, she just wants to rant about the drama in her life and needs someone to listen and doesn’t need answers or judgements.

I think because I’ve listened, now she calls often asking for my advice. I’m learning to be happy when she asks and not mind when she doesn’t follow it.

3. Offer support, not judgment

While texting with my son about topics and deadlines for law school applications (I’m an essay coach so that’s not getting overly involved) I wrote, “…and then we can apply later today?” Yes, I said “we.” With “letting go” on my mind, I quickly edited the text to say “you,” and I sat with the heavy realization that there should be no “we” in this process.

Still, a week later, when talking about the two schools he had gotten accepted to so far, I asserted that the choice was obvious. When he said he didn’t think so, I explained why one school was better than the other. But again later, when he said it was clear what choice he should make, his voice hinted at something I didn’t like. Resentment? Annoyance? Disappointment?

I apologized and said I would support any decision he made. In a tone of voice that told me I need not have bothered, he said, “It’s fine, mom, I understand, but I still want to visit ‘X’ (the state where the other school is) someday.” It felt like a win for both of us.

4. Ask questions (the right ones, and not too many) 

As they navigate their world of studying, laundry, feeding themselves, social drama, etc. I know barraging them with questions about how that’s going will add stress to their lives. While I’m eager to ask questions about grades and their friends and what they’re eating (I miss knowing every morsel that goes into their bodies), I wait until they bring these topics up.

Then I ask different questions to gauge their well-being. “What do/don’t you like about that class?” “What did you buy at the grocery store?” “How was that party last weekend?” I don’t expect them to tell me everything, but I think the more I ask, the less I’ll get. I do my best to balance my questions, so they know I’m interested, but they should also know it’s okay to not share every detail of their lives with their mother.

5. Guide. Don’t do. 

I am neither a “helicopter” nor a “tough love” parent. As evidence against my self-titled “middle of the road” parenting style, my husband would submit the fact that during my son’s freshman year I had a text thread going with the president of his fraternity regarding various issues I wanted resolved.

Then, after his junior year, I worked for nine months with the management company of his apartment complex to squash erroneous move out fees. But I’ve made progress.

This year my son manages all his bills (I don’t even look to check that they’re paid). When my daughter got her first speeding ticket, I counseled her on how to pay for it and sign up for driving school so the ticket wouldn’t affect her license or insurance.

When she asked if I could just do the online course for her (joking, I think?) I gave her a quick emphatic “no.” For safety or finances, I may tell them what to do, but only with the goal of them understanding what I did so that the next time, they can do it themselves.

It’s been almost two years since both kids left our home. I’m practicing asking first if they want my help before jumping in and handling something just because I can. Standing aside and letting them figure things out for themselves comes with a rollercoaster of emotions I believe every caring parent will experience as long as they are a parent.

I’m thrilled to be on the ride.

More Great Reading:

Landing the Helicopter: 10 Ways I’ve Let My College Daughter “Adult”

I can now do anything I want but haven’t a clue what that is.

March 1, 2024: It’s my birthday, the one day I’m allowed shameless navel-gazing. I don’t make the rules. All the self-help articles, memes, posts, and podcasts encourage you to go for what you really want, to live with intention, to align your thoughts with the end goal.

Countless books and workshops on manifestation teach you to alter your life to achieve your wildest dreams. But what if you don’t know what you want?

What if you don’t have a passion or a dream?

What if step one is where you get stuck? No one seems to address step zero, the one where you figure out what the hell you actually want. The premise all these motivational gurus come to the table with is that everyone already has a dream—they just need a kick in the pants and the discipline to go for it.

That’s not my problem. Discipline I have. Grit? Drowning in it. I just don’t know where to channel it. I don’t know what I want, or who I want to help, or what I want to change, or the impact I want to make.

At least not anymore. When raising my kids, I knew, based on their stage of life, exactly what I wanted. Babies: I wanted to keep them alive (and maybe get a little sleep). Toddlers: I wanted them to poop in the potty, eat a vegetable, and be cool in the grocery store.

When I was raising my kids I knew what I wanted

Young kids: I wanted to really be present in their lives. I wanted to be the one to mold and shape my children, not rely on paid help to raise them. I just wanted enough money to get by—food, mortgage, clothes, basics—so I could be a stay-at-home mom.

Adolescent and teen years: I wanted a cozy home in a safe neighborhood, decent schools, and a roomy vehicle to shuttle my kids and their friends around. I wanted connection with my children and opportunities for them.

I wanted enough money for karate lessons, flag football, snow cones, basketball training, team travel fees, new cleats every season, a family vacation every other summer, and modest college funds (state school, nothing private or Ivy). I wanted to make sure my kids understood how to make decisions based on reason and principle. I wanted to raise strong, good men who could go out into the world and use their talents to make it a better place.

I knew I only wanted what was best for my kids

Through every stage, I wanted what was best for them. And it was good.

For about 23 years, my primary goal was being the best mother I could be for my children. Yeah, I did other stuff—had a career, freelanced from home, volunteered, and had hobbies to fill free time, but there was no question that my number one job was being their mom. And I was 100 percent certain that was the right choice. I still believe that. It was noble and meaningful and mattered more than anything.

I believed what I did was meaningful but now it’s over

And now it’s over.

My youngest went away to college last fall. People say, “Parenting never ends; it just changes.” I get that. Of course that’s true, but the change when they grow up and leave your home is drastic. Life altering. Core shaking.

When your kids are adults, they are responsible for their own lives, and that’s how it should be. My day-to-day life literally does not involve them anymore, nor should it. Big picture stuff, sure, they loop me in sometimes, but they live in different cities, solve their own daily problems, feed themselves, and navigate their own schedules, relationships, jobs, and priorities. And that’s wonderful.

I am still young and energetic, what do I do now?

But here I am—a capable, energetic 44-year-old woman with approximately 16 waking hours of time to fill every single day for the next, what, 40 years? 50? And I don’t know what to do with it. “Get a fresh new job,” they say. “Focus on your career.” “Why don’t you volunteer? Travel. Find a new hobby. Learn a new skill.” Yadda. Freaking. Yadda.

I know, intellectually, that I can do any of those things, and I have been making changes. My job was eating my soul, so I quit. I’ve been halfheartedly looking for a new one, but everything just looks so meh.

I volunteer every week…meh. I run, work out, cook things, clean things, grow things, learn things, read things, watch things. Meh. Meh. Meh. Meh. I’ve been going through the motions looking for inspiration, but so far, it all feels empty and pales in comparison to raising my babies.

I know what you’re thinking. Then why don’t you foster or adopt?

Not gonna happen. My husband has no interest whatsoever. Both people need to be on board to take on a commitment like that. And if I’m being honest, I really don’t want to either. I like the idea of fostering or adopting, but in reality, no. Too hard, too much drama, and I do not wish to start all over again. I raised kids for over two decades, and I’m done. You can be incredibly fulfilled doing something but also recognize that once it’s over, you never want to do it again.

How do I find what I want to do with my life?

I know that I am privileged to have choices at this stage in life. Many don’t. So enough whining about what I don’t want to do. Moving forward. How do I find out what I really want now?

I have time, freedom, health, and energy, so what do I want to do with it? Where do I start? How do I figure that out? What is the magic Google phrase or ChatGPT prompt to figure out what one really wants?

My gut and spiritual beliefs tell me that the key has to be getting in touch with core values, core principles, divinely inspired purpose. And that notion always takes me back to … raising kids. I felt so strongly convicted, unshakably sure that my purpose for the past 23 years was to be a present mom.

No matter what challenges or difficulties arose, I KNEW that I was exactly where I was supposed to be. And there was such peace in that.

I want to feel the peace again of being exactly where I was supposed to be

I’m chasing that peace again. How do I find it? Try something new? If so, then WHAT is that new thing? Because so far, nothing feels right. Maybe I’m supposed to be still? Be still and wait for something to grab me? But be still DOING what? (To quote Uncle Rico,

Might as well do somethin’ while you’re doin’ nothin’.

Uncle rico, napolean dynamite

Today is my birthday, and I’m fine. Not sad. Not unhappy. But restless. Definitely restless. What oh what to do with my life now, when it feels as if the most rewarding, meaningful thing I’ve ever done or will ever do is behind me.

This is 44, so far.

If you actually made it to the end of this rambling, indulgent, pitiful post, then your ideas and advice are most welcome. Seriously. I’m not even kidding.

What do you know? Where do I start? What worked for you? Whatcha got? I’m ready to learn.

More Great Reading:

Four Steps to Surviving and Thriving In the Empty Nest

College is a time of learning and growth. While you can read, discuss, and prepare all you want, you’re going to run into unexpected challenges and roadblocks in university. Take it from a recent grad: these mistakes are critical because they’re opportunities for growth. Sometimes, the hard way is the only way to learn an important lesson.

Five lessons I learned the hard way during my four years of college

1. The first friends you make may not be your forever friends

Freshman orientation and the first couple weeks of your time in college will feel like summer camp: parents are gone, independence is abundant, and everyone is feeling a little homesick, a little excited, and desperate for new connections. Many college freshmen will latch onto their roommate, their friend from home, the person they sit next to in Psych 101, or the first person they speak to at orientation — and this isn’t necessarily a bad thing.

A new, unfamiliar setting can be incredibly daunting, and making a connection with someone who is going through the same thing can be invaluable. Friendships are forged quickly as freshman year kicks off.

While these instant friendships are great, they may not be sustainable long-term. The guy across the hall who made a great companion when looking for a dining hall, your random roommate from a different state, or the girl you happen to be paired up with for lab might not be forever friends. Think about it — the odds that the very first people you meet at college will be in your wedding party one day are slim.

Take these friendships for what they are and don’t sweat it if they don’t last the first semester. You may end up BFFs with the first person you meet at college. Or, you may end up being Instagram mutuals forever but never hanging out again.

The exciting thing about college is there are endless opportunities to meet new people and forge new connections. So whether your orientation friend group fell apart, or you haven’t connected with anyone yet, don’t worry. When you’re on a college campus, a new friend is always just around the corner.

2. Be open to new experiences, but learn to say no

One of the only things about my college experience that felt true to the movies was the involvement fair. As I strolled down my campus’s main walkway, different clubs and activities lining the green on either side, I truly felt like I was living in a college brochure — or in that one scene from Pitch Perfect.

The involvement fair is a physical representation of just how many different organizations and extracurriculars exist at a college. There really is something for everyone, whether that’s the school newspaper, a cultural center, a club sport, an art club, or even a moon watching club (yes, this was a real thing on my campus).

It can be tempting to sign up for everything. With the world at your fingertips and everyone and their mother advising you to “Get involved!” you might feel the urge to sign up for a couple — or maybe a dozen — clubs and activities. I certainly did my freshman year.

Before I knew it, I was getting emails from a film club, an animal advocacy club, a campus magazine, a yoga club, a volleyball team, and more. What was at first exciting became overwhelming very quickly. I tried to go to every club’s meeting and started to get them all mixed up. You know things are bad when you show up to knitting club with your yoga mat.

What I soon learned was that quality is more important than quantity when it comes to extracurricular activities. No one is going to find it impressive that you’re part of 20 clubs if you hardly attend meetings for any of them.

More importantly, you’re not going to derive value from any of those activities if you’re not dedicating any effort or enthusiasm to them. Once I found 2 or 3 clubs that I was really passionate about, I was able to invest most of my energy into those select activities, and they became the best part of my college experience.

You only get out of a club what you put into it. Challenge yourself to try something new, but don’t be afraid to set a boundary and say no every now and then. Your time is valuable, and with the endless opportunities with which college presents you, it’s time to learn to manage and prioritize the activities that matter to you.

3. Expect the unexpected

I’ve always relied on my planning skills. For many people, including myself, planning can be a way to control a chaotic and overwhelming world, and this is especially true when entering a new phase of life like college. Unfortunately for planners like me, the world we live in can’t always be controlled.

My entire college experience was rocked by a worldwide pandemic. There’s no way to know what lies ahead. There’s a saying that life is what happens to you when you’re busy making other plans. In college, it’s important to maintain a level of preparation, but expect the unexpected, and try your best to roll with the punches when things don’t go the way you anticipated.

Did I expect to miss out on my entire sophomore year (and some of my freshman and junior years, too)? No. But I took the opportunity to take on extra credits, spend time with my family and dogs, and be grateful that I stayed healthy. It’s all about perspective.

4. Not every one comes into college with the same background

It’s expected that you’ll encounter a diverse array of classmates in college — it’s one of the appeals of going to university. Broadening your horizons, gaining new perspectives, and learning about new cultures can be incredibly exciting.

What you’ll also quickly learn is that with diverse backgrounds comes diverse senses of etiquette, financial standings, and family situations. It can be hard not to compare oneself to classmates, roommates, or sorority sisters.

I remember a time when a classmate revealed to me that they were graduating with no loans and their parents were funding their entire tuition and rent. It was hard not to compare my own family and financial situation to this person.

I began to feel frustrated and even resentful of my peers. So many of them came from what I perceived as “better” backgrounds financially. What I soon realized, though, is that to many of my classmates, I came from a “better” background. I have a tight-knit family who I talk to regularly and I was able to attend college without completely going into debt.

Once again, perspective matters. In college, some people may be completely on their own with no contact with family, while others are still living with and fully funded by their parents. The important thing is to avoid judgment and resentment, and appreciate where you come from.

5. When someone tells you, “College will be the best four years of your life,” don’t believe them

I can’t tell you how many times I was told, “College will be the best four years of your life” leading up to my freshman year. I heard it from family members — many of whom met their significant others and best friends in college — and I heard it in the media.

My favorite TV shows, movies, and magazines advertised college as a romantic, non-stop fun, exploratory experience where you figure out the rest of your life. This could not be further from the truth, and it promotes harmful preconceptions and expectations that simply can never be met. While my college experience was great, I couldn’t help but feel disappointed when it wasn’t the fairytale I’d been promised.

College will be one of the most formative times of your life. You’ll experience incredibly high highs and dangerously low lows. You might meet lifelong friends who you will cherish — and you may meet some people who will teach you lessons that you’ll carry with you forever. You may or may not have the time of your life, but you’ll also learn important things about yourself. When I was handed my college diploma, I was a completely different person than the 18-year-old girl who signed up for classes freshman year. And I was glad to be.

Perpetuating the mythology that college will be the best time of your life is actually quite a downer. When a young adult graduates college, are they to expect that it’s only downhill from there? That’s no way to live.

College is great, but it is not the best four years of your life. Life is a long journey to happiness and joy, and hopefully college is only the beginning.

More Great Reading:

Top 12 College Freshman Mistakes and How to Avoid Them

It was so long ago and yet it feels like yesterday. My husband of eleven years confessed that he’d been having an affair with a co-worker, and I still remember the feeling of not being able to get enough air into my lungs to even formulate a response after he’d said the words.

In one evening, my world had changed. I went from thinking I was married to my person, a man who’d never hurt me, to pacing the floor trying to figure out how I could do life alone. It was something I couldn’t even wrap my head around, and so, I stayed.

My husband and I really tried to make things work

For years, my ex-husband and I tried. Or we said we did. If I’m being honest, I was so scared by what happened that I was going through the motions. Always on autopilot, avoiding hard conversation so our world wouldn’t be turned upside down.

Inside, I was dying. The pain I felt whenever I let myself think about what he did, even though he told me that he didn’t love her and it was purely sexual. He said he loved me and wanted to stay but I just couldn’t move forward. 

Even though I believed my husband when he told me he wanted to stay married to me, I knew deep down I didn’t want to be with him anymore. I couldn’t fully give myself to him, but I did the thing the experts tell you not to do: I stayed for my kids. 

I wasn’t dealing with what was going on in my marriage

I not fully dealing with everything that was going on in my marriage. I just couldn’t get past what happened and I couldn’t trust my husband any longer but I tried to hide everything I was feeling from my kids. Infidelity and its horrendous fallout was a battle I never wanted my kids to have to fight. It was not their fight to fight.

This all happened a long time ago. We are now divorced and both happy. We know it was the right decision to make not just for us as individuals, but for our family. 

I want to protect my kids from the kind of pain I went through

Now that my kids are in their early twenties and late teens and they are dating and exploring relationships, I can’t help but want to protect them from what I went through. The thought of any of them going through that kind of heartache twists my insides. 

They don’t know exactly what happened between me and their father, and my intention is to always keep it that way. He is their father and they love and respect him. I never want that to charge, not even a little bit, so I always do everything in my power to protect their relationship with him.

While I’m careful never to speak from personal experience, I do talk to them about trust in their relationships a lot. I remind them that their gut is usually always right and if they sense someone is lying to them or sneaking around, they should pay attention to that feeling.

It took a long time for me not to take responsibility for his behavior

I tell them that if they are in a relationship and someone does something to hurt them, it’s not about them. That was the lesson it took me the longest to learn. I had many nights when I lay awake in bed wondering if I’d just paid more attention to my ex-husband if things would have worked out differently. It took me a long time not to absorb all the responsibility for what my husband did with another woman.

But it was his actions, not mine. He had a choice. I now know that things don’t just happen by mistake in a marriage. We have control over what we decide to do each day. 

I’ve tried to show my kids that we can get consumed with how other people treat us, or we can stand up, brush ourselves off and demand better. Because no one is going to do that for us, we have to do it for ourselves.

I told my kids once you destroy someone’s trust it’s probably gone forever

I also let them know that their actions in relationships affect other people too. And once they break someone’s trust, it’s pretty likely they aren’t going to get it back and that they’ll never regret pausing and asking themselves if what they are about to do could hurt someone.

I still worry about them getting hurt in their relationships. I think all mother’s do. But I have no control over what life will throw at them. I can only guide them and remind them that I am always here for unconditional love and support. 

What happened between their father and me was devastating to me. In many ways it was devastating to him and I know he still regrets it deeply. We both wish it’d never happened, but it did. 

My kids are going to experience pain in their lives

Whenever I worry about my kids going through something like this, I remind myself that I did get through it and it did make me more resilient. I also learned a lot about the things that I need to work on and what I truly need from a partner. And I never would have discovered those things had I not gone through what I did.

My kids are going to have lots of good experiences and they are going to have lots of bad experiences. I’m thankful I got to go through some bad stuff so if something similar does happen to them, I’ll be even more equipped to help them. 

The author of this post wishes to remain anonymous.

More Great Reading:

My Husband is a Licensed Marriage Counselor: How We Learned to Reconnect as a Couple NOW

By Louise Kinross

Ontario adults with disabilities like autism and Down syndrome are 1.5 to 2.7 times more likely to die of breast, colon and lung cancer after receiving a diagnosis than those without, according to a population-based study published in The Canadian Journal of Public Health last month. “We found worse survival for people with intellectual and developmental disabilities, whether they were diagnosed early or late in the disease,” says Alyson Mahar, a co-author and scientist in the Cancer Research Institute at Queen’s University in Kingston, Ont. We spoke about the research.

BLOOM: Was this the first study of its kind?

Alyson Mahar: As far as we know it’s the first study of cancer survival among adults with intellectual and developmental disabilities. This study looked at the likelihood of dying of cancer if you’ve been diagnosed with it. That is different than a study of cancer mortality. Our study makes direct comparisons between how people with and without disabilities do once they’re diagnosed.

BLOOM: Why was there a need for this study?

Alyson Mahar: My own program of research is focused around the inequitable delivery of cancer care in Canada. I previously did work on outcomes for people with severe mental illness, and that got me thinking about who else isn’t represented in the current research about cancer-care inequities. Who may be affected by similar barriers? Our team did a literature review on cancer outcomes for adults with intellectual and developmental disabilities, and we saw how little there was to guide or inform treatment decision-making, or to inform prevention, or to inform anything. 

BLOOM: What were the key results of your study?

Alyson Mahar: Among adults with these three cancers, people with intellectual or developmental disabilities are 1.5 to 2.7 times more likely to die following their diagnosis than those without. It depends on the type of cancer. For lung cancer the rate is 1.5 and for breast and colon cancer it’s 2.4 and 2.7.

BLOOM: Were you surprised?

Alyson Mahar: Unfortunately no, based on what we’ve found in other populations where the health system wasn’t created with them in mind. Some people argue that the reason for worse survival in this population is that adults with these disabilities are more likely to be diagnosed too late, at a point when the disease has spread throughout their body and is not curable. But we looked at early cancer and late cancer diagnoses and found worse survival for people with disabilities in both.

BLOOM: Why hasn’t this population been included in cancer equity work before?

Alyson Mahar: I think the focus previously has been on children with intellectual and developmental disabilities.

I don’t work in spaces that provide care, but I’ve heard from colleagues that the general feeling was that cancer wasn’t something they needed to think about because life expectancy was lower in this population, and cancer is a disease of aging populations. Of course, life expectancy has increased. When we did our literature review, it seemed most people were doing research on screening in this population, rather than looking at rates of cancer and outcomes.

BLOOM: Your study doesn’t identify why people with intellectual and developmental disabilities have lower survival rates. What factors may make this population more likely to die from these cancers?

Alyson Mahar: I think a few things are happening. One is that the disability may impact whether or not someone is eligible for treatment. There may be contraindications for medications, or possible genetic-specific reasons that survival is worse.

But I think what’s more likely, and more amenable to changing, are system level issues that are interfering: Is this structure that provides radiation built to accommodate someone who can’t keep their body still for a long time? Are the ways we deliver care adaptable, and are they being adapted to be accessible for people with intellectual and developmental disabilities? 

What about consent to treatment? People providing cancer care may feel they can’t adequately consent someone for treatment. Is that a reason not to provide it? I don’t think so.

How are we supporting families or caregivers? Are they able to take time off work to attend clinic visits with the person with a disability? Are we putting people in situations where they’re making hard decisions about whether to get curative treatment without giving them the necessary financial and practical resources? Are we providing health professionals in the cancer system with the best education?

BLOOM: I’ve heard from people with disabilities who go to what are called ‘accessible’ diagnostic screening clinics in a big city like Toronto, and the equipment can’t accommodate them, so they leave without having the test.

Alyson Mahar: Yes. Then there’s the sensory overload of being in one of these big cancer clinics with maybe 100 other people in the waiting room. That can be a nightmare. Then there’s the need to undergo a significant medical procedure and manage pain and symptoms, and the hospitals are trying to get people in and out as quickly as possible. Do patients have the right support to recover well? Are those things influencing their decisions about treatment?

BLOOM: Your study notes a person may have trouble communicating their symptoms, and we’ve seen cases where even if they can, sometimes a care home may dismiss or minimize what the person says and not get medical help. I’m recalling a study of parent perceptions of disability bias among clinicians, where a doctor suggested a disabled child who had just been diagnosed with a treatable cancer not be treated. Of course that would never be suggested to the parent of a non-disabled child.

Alyson Mahar: We need more education in the different health professions to make sure that cancer is something physicians and nurses are thinking about for people with disabilities and to empower them to feel more confident in treating these individuals. Of course we’ve heard in some spaces that physicians don’t feel comfortable providing care to people with disabilities.

BLOOM: Yes, we did this story about an American study that found 82.4 per cent of 714 doctors don’t think it’s possible to live well with a significant disability, and only 41 per cent feel confident in their ability to provide the same care to a patient with a disability that they give other patients.

Alyson Mahar: I think it’s a challenging topic to bring back to health professionals, to say ‘You may be contributing to this problem because of how you feel, and how you’re acting on those values.’ We’ve actually gotten a lot of pushback on this. I think there’s a lot of ableism out there and it affects how clinicians provide care and even how research like this gets published.

BLOOM: Do you have any personal interest in this research?

Alyson Mahar: When I grew up one of my good friends had Down syndrome. I don’t like to suggest that it’s why I’m doing this work. But I do think about her all the time when it comes to this research. Now that we know this inequity exists, we’re at the point where we can begin to work together to adapt clinical guidelines and change behaviours. It’s really important that those conversations are led by adults with disabilities and their caregivers and providers. We need to know how they would like to see things change.

Like this story? Sign up for our monthly BLOOM e-letter, follow @LouiseKinross on Twitter, or watch our A Family Like Mine video series.

By Louise Kinross

Ontario adults with disabilities like autism and Down syndrome are 1.5 to 2.7 times more likely to die of breast, colon and lung cancer after receiving a diagnosis than those without, according to a population-based study published in The Canadian Journal of Public Health last month. “We found worse survival for people with intellectual and developmental disabilities, whether they were diagnosed early or late in the disease,” says Alyson Mahar, a co-author and scientist in the Cancer Research Institute at Queen’s University in Kingston, Ont. We spoke about the research.

BLOOM: Was this the first study of its kind?

Alyson Mahar: As far as we know it’s the first study of cancer survival among adults with intellectual and developmental disabilities. This study looked at the likelihood of dying of cancer if you’ve been diagnosed with it. That is different than a study of cancer mortality. Our study makes direct comparisons between how people with and without disabilities do once they’re diagnosed.

BLOOM: Why was there a need for this study?

Alyson Mahar: My own program of research is focused around the inequitable delivery of cancer care in Canada. I previously did work on outcomes for people with severe mental illness, and that got me thinking about who else isn’t represented in the current research about cancer-care inequities. Who may be affected by similar barriers? Our team did a literature review on cancer outcomes for adults with intellectual and developmental disabilities, and we saw how little there was to guide or inform treatment decision-making, or to inform prevention, or to inform anything. 

BLOOM: What were the key results of your study?

Alyson Mahar: Among adults with these three cancers, people with intellectual or developmental disabilities are 1.5 to 2.7 times more likely to die following their diagnosis than those without. It depends on the type of cancer. For lung cancer the rate is 1.5 and for breast and colon cancer it’s 2.4 and 2.7.

BLOOM: Were you surprised?

Alyson Mahar: Unfortunately no, based on what we’ve found in other populations where the health system wasn’t created with them in mind. Some people argue that the reason for worse survival in this population is that adults with these disabilities are more likely to be diagnosed too late, at a point when the disease has spread throughout their body and is not curable. But we looked at early cancer and late cancer diagnoses and found worse survival for people with disabilities in both.

BLOOM: Why hasn’t this population been included in cancer equity work before?

Alyson Mahar: I think the focus previously has been on children with intellectual and developmental disabilities.

I don’t work in spaces that provide care, but I’ve heard from colleagues that the general feeling was that cancer wasn’t something they needed to think about because life expectancy was lower in this population, and cancer is a disease of aging populations. Of course, life expectancy has increased. When we did our literature review, it seemed most people were doing research on screening in this population, rather than looking at rates of cancer and outcomes.

BLOOM: Your study doesn’t identify why people with intellectual and developmental disabilities have lower survival rates. What factors may make this population more likely to die from these cancers?

Alyson Mahar: I think a few things are happening. One is that the disability may impact whether or not someone is eligible for treatment. There may be contraindications for medications, or possible genetic-specific reasons that survival is worse.

But I think what’s more likely, and more amenable to changing, are things like: Is this structure that provides radiation built to accommodate someone who can’t keep their body still for a long time? Are the ways we deliver care adaptable, and are they being adapted to be accessible for people with intellectual and developmental disabilities? 

What about consent to treatment? People providing cancer care may feel they can’t adequately consent someone for treatment. Is that a reason not to provide it? I don’t think so.

How are we supporting families or caregivers? Are they able to take time off work to attend clinic visits with the person with a disability? Are we putting people in situations where they’re making hard decisions about whether to get curative treatment without giving them the necessary financial and practical resources? Are we providing health professionals in the cancer system with the best education?

BLOOM: I’ve heard from people with disabilities who go to what are called ‘accessible’ diagnostic screening clinics in a big city like Toronto, and the equipment can’t accommodate them, so they leave without having the test.

Alyson Mahar: Yes. Then there’s the sensory overload of being in one of these big cancer clinics with maybe 100 other people in the waiting room. That can be a nightmare. Then there’s the need to undergo a significant medical procedure and manage pain and symptoms, and the hospitals are trying to get people in and out as quickly as possible. Do patients have the right support to recover well? Are those things influencing their decisions about treatment?

BLOOM: Your study notes a person may have trouble communicating their symptoms, and we’ve seen cases where even if they can, sometimes a care home may dismiss or minimize what the person says and not get medical help. I’m recalling a study of parent perceptions of disability bias among clinicians, where a doctor suggested a disabled child who had just been diagnosed with a treatable cancer not be treated. Of course that would never be suggested to the parent of a non-disabled child.

Alyson Mahar: We need more education in the different health professions to make sure that cancer is something physicians and nurses are thinking about for people with disabilities and to empower them to feel more confident in treating these individuals. Of course we’ve heard in some spaces that physicians don’t feel comfortable providing care to people with disabilities.

BLOOM: Yes, we did this story about an American study that found 82.4 per cent of 714 doctors don’t think it’s possible to live well with a significant disability, and only 41 per cent feel confident in their ability to provide the same care to a patient with a disability that they give other patients.

Alyson Mahar: I think it’s a challenging topic to bring back to health professionals, to say ‘You may be contributing to this problem because of how you feel, and how you’re acting on those values.’ We’ve actually gotten a lot of pushback on this. I think there’s a lot of ableism out there and it affects how clinicians provide care and even how research like this gets published.

BLOOM: Do you have any personal interest in this research?

Alyson Mahar: When I grew up one of my good friends had Down syndrome. I don’t like to suggest that it’s why I’m doing this work. But I do think about her all the time when it comes to this research. Now that we know this inequity exists, we’re at the point where we can begin to work together to adapt clinical guidelines and change behaviours. It’s really important that those conversations are led by adults with disabilities and their caregivers and providers. We need to know how they would like to see things change.

Like this story? Sign up for our monthly BLOOM e-letter, follow @LouiseKinross on Twitter, or watch our A Family Like Mine video series.

By Louise Kinross (above, on Max)

Capes for Kids is Holland Bloorview’s annual fundraiser.

For a week, we don capes to raise dollars to support numerous hospital programs that wouldn’t exist otherwise.

That includes research on technology and inclusion; Spiral Garden, our summer arts camp in the lush ravine; the Family Support Fund, which helps families buy equipment and medications; and all of our BLOOM content on parenting children with disabilities. 

My son is an adult now, but our family benefited from many of these programs as he grew up.

Please consider making a small donation to my Capes for Kids campaign! I’m trying to raise $1,000, and our overall goal this year is $1 million. Many thanks!

By Louise Kinross (above, on Max)

Capes for Kids is Holland Bloorview’s annual fundraiser.

For a week, we don capes to raise dollars to support numerous hospital programs that wouldn’t exist otherwise.

They include research on technology and inclusion; Spiral Garden, our summer arts camp in the lush ravine; the Family Support Fund, which helps families buy equipment and medications; and all of our BLOOM content on parenting children with disabilities. 

My son is an adult now, but our family benefited from many of these programs as he grew up.

Please consider making a small donation to my Capes for Kids campaign! I’m trying to raise $1,000, and our overall goal this year is $1 million. Many thanks!