The Next Super Hero Could Be A Kid With Star Power

Look, the odds are pretty slim that any of us are raising the next President or a movie star with a ten-bedroom mansion in Beverly Hills. (Honestly, I consider it a massive win if my kid just manages to put their shoes on the correct feet before noon). But while we might not be raising Hollywood royalty, we can absolutely raise good humans.

We can teach our kids that making a big impact usually comes down to doing the little things right. It’s about teaching them to be genuinely kind to others, to volunteer their time, and to be deeply thoughtful. The whole "it's all about me" attitude is exhausting—trust me, I have lived with a tiny dictator who thought the sun raised and sat on their snack schedule. We have to gently remind them that the world doesn't actually revolve around them, and that worrying about someone other than ourselves is a beautiful thing.

Whether it's helping a neighbor carry groceries, volunteering a few hours, or just being there for a friend in need, those small acts of thoughtfulness often leave the biggest mark. Deciding to make a difference in someone else's life just because you can? Now that is true star power.

Trying Something New

I'm attempting to learn Haiku poetry—and it's not going well. As someone who loves long, flowery, free-flowing verse, Haiku feels rigid and unnatural to me. Five syllables, then seven, then five again? It feels like poetry with a straitjacket on. But I'm determined to give it a shot, so you'll find the occasional Haiku sprinkled throughout this blog. Fair warning: they'll probably be terrible.

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Flowery Verses

Mine arrive with muddy boots

Tracking through the pages

*Gag*

I’m classy, sassy and a bit badassy

Classy, Sassy, and a Bit Badassy

I think I’ve reached the age where I know exactly who I am.

I’m classy. I like things a certain way. I like to look put together, have a pretty home, use my manners, and treat people with kindness. I believe there is still something to be said for carrying yourself well and having standards.

But let’s not confuse classy with quiet.

Because I’m also a little sassy.

I have opinions. Lots of them. My face usually announces them before my mouth even gets a chance. I laugh at things I probably shouldn’t. I use sarcasm as a second language, and sometimes my filter clocks out before I do.

And then there is that tiny little badassy side.

That’s the part of me that survived the hard things, built a life, raised kids, ran a business, made mistakes, learned lessons, and kept going. It’s the part that says, “Nope, not doing that,” without needing everyone to understand why.

When you’re younger, you spend so much time trying to figure out who you are and worrying about what everyone thinks.

Then one day you realize… I’m good.

Not perfect. Not everyone’s cup of tea. And that’s perfectly fine.

I can wear lipstick, love pretty things, cry over a memory, spoil my grandkids, speak my mind, stand my ground, and still have a little sparkle while doing it.

Classy enough to know better.

Sassy enough to say it anyway.

And just badassy enough to be myself.

Did the Rapture Happen While I Was Shopping?

Today I had one of the weirdest experiences, and it happened not once, but twice.

I pulled into a store parking lot, and it was packed. The kind of packed where you have to circle around looking for a spot and start wondering if you really need whatever you came for. I finally found a place, went inside, grabbed what I needed, and headed back out.

The parking lot was practically empty. Not just a little less crowded. Empty. As in, where did everybody go? I stood there for a second trying to figure out if I’d somehow lost track of time. Maybe I had been shopping longer than I thought. Maybe I’d accidentally wandered every aisle in the store. But no. I was in and out.

Then it happened again. Different store. Same exact thing. Packed when I arrived. Empty when I left.

By that point my mind had moved beyond logical explanations. My first thought was that maybe the Rapture happened while I was inside, and somehow I got left behind. That’s not exactly the kind of realization you want to have standing in a parking lot holding a bag of purchases.

My second thought was that perhaps the zombie apocalypse had started and everyone else got the memo except me. Maybe there was some emergency alert that went out while I was comparing prices or trying to remember why I walked into the store in the first place.

I know there are perfectly reasonable explanations. People come and go. Stores get busy and then they don’t. But when the same strange thing happens twice in one day, it starts to feel a little suspicious.

All I’m saying is if I pull into a crowded parking lot tomorrow and come back out to complete silence and abandoned shopping carts, I’m not sticking around to investigate. I’ve watched enough movies to know that’s how the main character ends up getting chased by zombies.

And honestly, if the Rapture did happen and I got left behind, at least I know I went down doing something important.

I was shopping.