I may have been quiet here as of late (hence the dip in traffic, I presume?), but I’ve been eloquent and prolific elsewhere! Here’s where you can find me on the Internets:

PUBLICATION: YAHOO

12/23/15 How to Celebrate the Holidays in New York City

PUBLICATION: THE HUFFINGTON POST

11/30/15 Must Avoid Popular Winter Destinations… And Where to Go Instead

PUBLICATION: FINDERY

11/24/15 Traveling through moments of Ireland

PUBLICATION: THE CULTURE TRIP

12/1/15 NYC’s Unmissable Holiday Markets

PUBLICATION: PARENT SOCIETY

12/18/15 How to Celebrate the Holidays in NYC

TODAY’S MAMA

12/14/15 How to Celebrate the Holidays in NYC 

11/24/15 Las Vegas’ Retro Side

PUBLICATION: MINITIME

12/11/15 Best-Kept Secrets of NYC for Families

11/27/15 How to Celebrate the Holidays in New York City

11/26/15 Most Popular Winter Destinations..and Where to Go Instead

11/6/15 Las Vegas Retro Side

PUBLICATION: PARADE

11/9/15 Las Vegas’ Retro Side: A Pop Culture Tour

PUBLICATION: THE VACATION GALS

11/16/15 Bringing Out My Inner Explorer in Ireland 

PUBLICATION: CIAO BAMBINO

11/25/15 Frost and Fire Hotel Family Friendly Review

11/18/15 Family-Friendly Review of The Westin Princeville Ocean Resort Villas 

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A few weeks ago, I put my rings back on my left hand for the first time since May. It was a major achievement.

Though I have only mentioned it a few times here on this blog, I was involved in an accident that nearly took my life in the spring. Since that day, I have quietly thanked G-d for being alive and while making moment each more meaningful than the one before. The limbs I injured in this accident have still not returned to the way they once were and certainly activities that I used to love and do (like yoga and running) are still impossibilities, but I’m still here, I’m not dead. My children are not motherless, and for that, I am grateful. I hope to do yoga and run again soon, and I think I will, but I don’t know when and I’m okay with it.

2015 was very much for me the year of life. It was nearly taken from me. I have flashbacks to the second my future was nearly taken from me (and my children) daily and it makes me more grounded. I am now better grasping the fragility of life. The incident helped me learn to embrace and accept parts of my existence that are difficult and I’m trying to make them better. It also taught me to complain less. It taught me (if you don’t mind my taking a line from Hamilton) to talk less, smile more. When I have arguments or disagreements, I try to rectify the situations rather quickly, and I never try to leave a room mad at someone. You just don’t know if you’ll ever see them again, trust me.

There was plenty of good this year, too. I traveled (more before the accident) plenty and made my way to Ireland, Hawaii, Mexico, California and many more incredible destinations in my bucket list. I saw a lot of great shows (can I mention Hamilton again?) My working life has progressed – I’m working with some amazing people, including the United Nations Foundation, and my consultancy (Pivoting Media) has taken off with a full slate of clients. I took a break from graduate school but plan to return next year. My enforced mental health break gave me time to focus on who I am and what I want from my future, and finishing my degree is definitely my intention, but I realize that as a working mother, I must do it on my terms, during an easier time of life. My volunteer work is also quite meaningful and I’ve learned to focus my efforts on projects that are truly meaningful to me. More on that later.

Talk less, smile more. That’s what I learned to do in 2015, and I’ll take it as I move into 2016. Of course, that may be hard to do as a marketer, for I use and create words for a living….but the goal is to live life more meaningfully, with purpose.

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This week I had my 3rd training session with Robert Lankard, one of the two founders at Encore Fitness. It may have been session #3, but I have to admit it was the first time I actually felt pain the next day. It was also the first time I actually felt like the work outs were starting to have an effect. As soon as I left Encore, I felt sensation in my legs walking up steps in the subway. I took that as a good sign.

As the days have come and gone since my work-out, I have felt more compelled to work-out, and that in its own rite is an achievement. For me to want to work-out was truly a personal goal when Robert and I started working together.

I don’t usually post photos of myself on this blog, and I certainly would never have posted photos of myself working out, but I put several up on Instagram and I am posting a few in this post. I have no goal in doing that other than to inspire other middle-aged broads. If I can do this, anyone can, I promise you.

Source: EncoreFitnessNY.com

This week’s session was spent focusing on my neuromuscular control with the ladder. We also did modified pull ups on the TRX, great for core strength and building a strong back and arms. I’m hoping to tone these muscles, as along with grey hair, I now have flab. A lot of flaws come with middle-age but if I can stop any of it from coming early at age 45, I will. We also did some planking on a big ball. Robert explained to me that the benefits of planking go beyond a toned and flat belly. It helps remove back pain and stabilize the spine by by strengthening superficial and deep abdominal muscles as well as the muscles of the back. He encouraged and cheered me on as I held my position until the bitter end, squeezing in my glutes, belly button and focusing on my breathing.

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This is the year I stop procrastinating.

You may (or not!) have been wondering about my whereabouts these last few weeks as it’s been rather quiet here.  I’ve been on a family trip to Ireland and England, where we spent time with close family and friends. While I did think about blogging, I chose not to write for the few weeks while I was away.  I took copious notes and have lots to talk about, but now that I’m back, where do I start? Perhaps about my trip around Ireland with the kids and our visits to several important castles, about fishing in the middle of the Ring of Kerry and horseback riding on the beach.  Or our trip to the Globe Theater with the kids in London and our subsequent visit to the Museum of Science and Industry in Manchester.  And I still have to talk about my visit to the Museum of Jewish Heritage, where we spent a summer vacation day before we left NYC. This was truly one of the most remarkable summers my children have ever had, much of it spent with cousins who live far away, and the memories that we created will last for a long time to come.

But have I mentioned that I am returning to an office tomorrow?  I took on a very interesting role with a new client and I’ll be leaving the house a few days a week. After working solely from home for the last few months, I admit that I crave the outside world and look forward to the new challenge. I’ll keep producing plays (I recently had my first taste of a Broadway show), leading my social media consultancy (we have a host of new, exciting clients), writing here and elsewhere about travel and film, and, of course, being the best mom I can be. My outside pursuits should never be mistaken for bad parenting, as they sometimes are. As my kids get older, I find it more and more important to embrace who I am, while guiding them both through life as the kind of person my husband and I both hope they turn into.

If you haven’t noticed, my husband and I love to travel.  And as a writer who focuses on the topic (I am a staff writer at Ciao Bambino, Family Vacation Critic, This Girl Travels and Go Girlfriend), it is uber important that my children share the passion.  As two children who have traveled extensively, I have watched them morph into great travelers at age 8 and 10. When we got to London on this past trip, they both were able to articulate the things that they wanted to do. While traipsing through castles in Ireland, they took charge of our cameras and took photos of the remains that have endured two centuries. On a fishing trip in the middle of Southern Ireland, their eyes lit up as they caught mackerels, pollack and star fish (yes, seriously).  They are experienced, impassioned travelers and I have loved watching them grow. The question is, where will the roads lead us? I can’t wait to find out.

But today my kids go to school for a record THREE hours.  I have to pick up nearly 3 weeks of mail. There is laundry  – A LOT of it. I have to pick out what I’m wearing to my first day in the office tomorrow. I owe my editors articles.  I have client work to pick back up and ease back into. And have I mentioned that my kids will be home by noon?  And I’m sure enjoying that book I didn’t finish on my trip, Where’d You Go, Bernadette? and really want to finish it.

What would you do first?

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The minute my daughter was born, I started to dream about sending her to a Jewish sleep away camp.  Not because I wanted to shake her, but because I knew we wouldn’t be sending her to Jewish day school and I wanted her to embrace our religion in a different way.  Also, because I know from personal experience what kind of long-lasting impact it would have on her.

Growing up in Atlanta, it was more important to send your kids to Jewish sleep away camp.  We were a small community and I was one of only a handful of Jews in my grade.  Camp was the best way to really bring your kids together with other Jewish kids for an extended period of time.  I went to a sleep away camp called Barney Meditz in the heart of Georgia.  It was an oasis for me where I could be anything I wanted to be and I loved it all – everything from the Sabbath skit to Israeli dancing to getting dressed up for Shabbat and singing under the stars to Kosher food.  I relished in the familiarity of a culture I belonged in.

When I entered high school, it became more necessary to find Jewish extra-curricular activities.  I went to a performing arts high school where there was an even lesser Jewish population.  It was then that my mother discovered the Young Judea movement. She drove me 15 miles to the meeting.  Little did we know but those meetings would change my life.  It was there that I would get turned on to Young Judea sleep away camps, and later Year Course, where I would spend my freshman year of college in Israel. For me, Young Judea represented a way of life.  It’s a movement with a commitment to Jewish values, Jewish pride, and love of Israel.

When my daughter turned 10, I decided it was time to start thinking about sleep away camp. For some reason, she wasn’t that interested.  She thought she’d be too homesick. My husband, who wasn’t raised with the idea of sending your child away during the summer, wasn’t particularly in favor of the idea either but I didn’t give up. I even took her to meet a little girl who had been to the camp before. My daughter didn’t show much emotion as the girl raved about the camp and after our meeting, the mother pulled me aside and told me not to push my daughter into it.  If she’s not ready, she’s not ready.  And I let her know that.

Eventually, she agreed to go for one week, and only with a friend. Fortunately, one volunteered, her parents acquiesced and the camp agreed to take them for a “taste”.  As the weeks led up to her first day, I’ll admit that I experienced a resurgence of feelings about the experience and I was terribly excited for her.  Her level of excitement didn’t match mine at all, however. If it did, it was mild.

The morning of departure, we both woke up unusually early and sat together in the den.  I could sense her fear but there wasn’t much I could say to make her feel better.  As we drove the short distance to camp, she cried quietly beside me.

We got there in the middle of lice check and took a number.  While waiting our turn, I was asked to attend the parent orientation in the chapel.  I was to leave her behind and come say “good bye” at the end.  She started to cry and my heartstrings felt their final pull.  An Israeli counselor came over to see what was the problem and instantly took over.  I told myself that if it didn’t work out, I’d just move on.  She didn’t inherit all of my interests and passions, and I certainly can’t force her to be anyone but herself.

When I returned an hour later, she was glowing.  Adults weren’t allowed to enter the bunks, and she informed me that she was ready to unpack.  We said our goodbyes and I left, looking back once or twice, kind of relieved and shocked by the turn of the events. It was then that I looked around the camp, remembered how much it changed my own life, and knew it was about to change hers.

As the week progressed, we went online nightly to search for photos of her.  In every single one, the same smile looked back at me  – as she performed the Sabbath skit to Israeli dancing to getting dressed up for Shabbat and singing under the stars to eating Kosher food. And each night, I took a deep breath, knowing the experience was everything I imagined it would be for her…and more.

Two days before we were set to pick her up, I got an email explaining why we hadn’t heard from her and that she had gotten stung by a bee.  She said there had been too much rain and she hadn’t had a chance to write. At the end of the note, she wrote: “I kind of want to stay longer, but it’s probably too late for that.”

Success!  We did pick her up two days later. She looked both happy and disappointed and the stories about her weeklong adventure haven’t stopped.  She’s speaking more Hebrew than I’ve ever heard and is telling me stories about Jewish heroes like Hannah Senesh.  She has changed and we are already planning next summer, when she’ll spend a full session.

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Me:  “Do it now, while you’re young.  Life gets more complicated as you get older.”

Him: “Yeah, I decided it was time.  40 is sneaking up on me.”

He looked about 20-something, I wasn’t sure.

Me: “Make these moves while you can. Once you have responsibilities, like a family, it will only get harder to make any major changes.”

Him: “I actually have a child.”

Me: “Where?”

Him: “Back in New York.  I had him when I was 19.  His mom and I broke up while she was pregnant.  He’s 8 now.  We were too young. I wasn’t ready.  But he’s a great kid and it’s going to be hard to live away from him.”

Silence.

I had to digest this for a moment.  I’m not the kind of mom who could ever just pick up and leave my kids. He told me about his future visitation rights.  He’ll have 30 days with him, twice a year, and later after he’s settled, he’ll return to court to gain more access to his son.

Me: “It won’t be easy, but the time you’ll have with him will be precious. Enjoy every minute, they grow up fast.  My daughter lost a tooth last night.  My son graduated from cub scouts.  I wasn’t there either.”

Him: “Sounds like you have a lot on your plate.”

Me: “Do you surf?”

Him: “Not yet, but I plan on learning.”

I was in Los Angeles last week and as I drove around the City of Angels, I wondered about a road not taken.  When I was around 26 or 27, I was offered a job at a film studio out there.  I didn’t take it.  I felt too attached to NYC, and I wasn’t ready to leave.  At the time, my sister lived out there, as did my closest friend from my youth but there was nothing as glamorous as NYC. Last week, the city looked particularly beautiful.  I was staying in Santa Monica.  Our first day was spent walking along the beach in Santa Monica.  I gazed at the palm trees and open space as I drove around town.  I relished every meal of kale and quinoa and wondered what my life would have been like had I taken that job all those years ago and was now living in a L.A. bungalow, producing independent films.

But I have responsibilities now and I take them very seriously.

I am not judging this young guy, but I after being a way from my family for the last several weeks for several days at a time, I realize how important my time is with them.

A few weeks ago my daughter fractured a finger and I was there to take her to the doctor (s) and deal with her injury.  We stayed home together for a few days while she recovered. A week later my son broke a front tooth (adult, of course) and I was there to take him to the dentist to have his tooth repaired.  It was stressful for us both.  But I was there.

I have been there for everything and I always will.  My husband is the same way.  He’s an incredible partner who puts them first. Last week while I was traveling he had an important work function and my daughter had a concert at school.  He put her first and made it home in time for the concert.

I should have told this young guy that 40 isn’t the end of time.  That life can also begin, or continue, after you hit that age. But I didn’t.

I still haven’t figured it all out at age 43.  I’m not necessarily proud of that.  But it’s okay.

Hopefully he’ll figure it out himself.

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My favorite show on TV right now is Girls on HBO.  I’ve been watching it since season 1, episode 1 and while some people are questioning whether it’s as good as last year, I’m relishing every moment.  I watch each episode over and over, capturing lines that I missed the first time around.  Each episode is brilliantly written and takes me back to not only my life in NYC as a 20-something getting started in this thing we call “adulthood” but also to the feelings of muddling through the waters on my own for the first time in my life.  I think of the show as a lesson on life’s disappointments.

When I say that I relate to the show’s characters, who you may find either selfish or repugnant, I relate to them on a very visceral level. Each one has faults of his or her own, but they deal with them in a very real way and are seeking redemption and happiness.  They are also like fishes out of water, living in the big city, trying to discover themselves, practically right out of college. I was once in their shoes.  I moved to NYC in my 20s, not knowing who I was or who I wanted to be.  I found it all very exciting but extremely overwhelming.

When Hannah said goodbye to Adam last season and then sat on a beach in Brooklyn eating cake, it took me right back to how I felt about men many years ago.  Confused, disturbed, strong when I let go.  I remembered what it was like to love someone and not be loved back.  I can also relate to her ongoing search for a creative job that will pay the bills.  She’s now writing an eBook, mirroring Lena Dunham’s real life (paper) book she was paid for 3.5 million dollars to write, and this is her big break after a number of jobs that didn’t work out.  I remember my early days in NYC, working in television with difficult managers who got under my skin.  Hannah is dealing with disappointment the way any 20-something would.  She gets upset, gets under the blankets and then goes to talk to a friend about it and starts over. That’s what I did.

Unfortunately, her friends continue to let her down.  This past week Jessa left her stranded somewhere upstate, after visiting her father and his family. Jessa is a character that I’m glad the show is exploring further. She’s a free spirit who says what she wants and does as she pleases and everything has always seemed to bounce off her…until her marriage dissolved a few weeks ago.  Now we know she has feelings, particularly after a discussion the other night with her father who has shown little interest in her for years, when she told him bluntly, “I’m the child!”  Her disappointment with her father came out loud and clear and then she chose to abandon the only friend who cares about her because she couldn’t cope with the hurdles life is throwing her.  I can’t say I blame her for running away from Hannah at that moment.  We’ve seen the disappointment all over her face for the last few weeks and her father letting her down  again was truly the last straw. It probably hit her a few weeks ago when Thomas-John said “You’re just a whore with no work ethic” to her before his departure.  His words were like daggers and she was left disappointed once again.

Marnie has also let Hannah down a lot this season.  They had a falling out last season and split up as roommates but it’s clear that they still have a bond and need each other. When Hannah got her book deal, Marnie was the only one Hannah wanted to call, but Marnie was too into her new hosting career and pseudo art boyfriend to take notice. When Marnie didn’t tell Hannah the truth about her disinterested boyfriend at the end of that episode, it took me back to friendships that existed in my 20s, to the ones that didn’t last.  It’s hard when friends expect so much from each other. Then when Marnie slept with Elihah, Hannah’s boyfriend who dumped her for men, Hannah cut Marnie loose, sick with a broken heart.

I’m not a fan of Shoshanna but I like her boyfriend, Ray, and I relate to the struggles he’s enduring to find himself.  The two of them are clearly in a relationship that’s going to explode because of his uncertainty with his career, and most likely her as his better half.  He doesn’t think they have much in common and she’s kind of pushing herself on him. But he has bigger fish to fry and I suspect we’ll see his character evolve in upcoming episodes.  He’s at a cross-roads.

Watching Girls reminds me that disappointment comes into our lives from time to time. The important thing is to stay true to who you are and never give up on yourself.  Like the girls on this incredibly real, telling show, we can’t let life get us down.

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(This piece was inspired by an article I read today in the NYT – you can find it here.)

Last night was the first night of Hanukkah.  The holiday falls much earlier than Christmas this year, which is always nice for parents like us.  There is less to compete with.  Trees aren’t up yet in many homes and my kids aren’t hearing talk of Santa lists, although I’m sure that talk will start tomorrow as Christmas is coming and the birds are getting fat (“please to put a penny in the old man’s hat”).  We managed to keep the emphasis on the candle lighting and prayers, surrounded by very good friends who live in Brooklyn.  Of course, gifts were involved, but they were small as we do eight small gifts during the course of the holiday.  Walking around town, we were approached by the Lubavitch who use this very popular time of year as a time to turn Jews onto religion.  They were giving out menorahs, singing songs in the street around an over-sized candelabra and inviting Jews into their Mitzvah Mobile.

I won’t say we weren’t enjoying it.  On the contrary, I was so proud.  I felt like I was in Israel again.  I passed a guy and gal singing the blessing over the candles in the street (after being given a menorah in the street, she apparently called her mother to tell her she was lighting the candles).  After all, it’s a fun holiday full of cultural traditions like eating latkes and special donuts, spinning dreidels and getting gifts.  What’s not to like?

When I was a little girl, Hanukkah was a big deal.  I’m not sure when it became so commercial in the U.S. but by the time I was a little girl in the 1970s, it had become a holiday revolving around presents (at least in our home).  My mom made a very big deal out of the holiday and not one penny was spared, even though we did not have much.  She made the holiday into our own version of Christmas.

But the funny thing is as a Jewish adult, I now know that Hanukkah isn’t a super big deal.  It’s about a time nearly 2,000 years ago when the Jews were being forbidden their heritage and were being denied religious practice.  They took up arms to protect themselves, forming an army called the Maccabees. After fighting for a few years, they reclaimed their temple in Jerusalem and prepared for a rededication but they found only enough purified oil to kindle the temple light for a single day. The real miracle is that the oil lasted longer than others thought, which was eight days, and the Maccabees were eventually successful at achieving their fight for religious and political freedom.  That’s the real meaning of the holiday about the plight for freedom the Jewish people have long faced.

I am not denying that we shouldn’t be celebrating our freedom every December, certainly we should be.  However, the act of giving gifts was created purely because of Christmas.  It is the gifts that my kids look forward to receiving and the story of Hanukkah has been minimized, there is no question, I’m sure in most homes.

This weekend I told several outsiders who don’t observe Hanukkah how I feel about the commercialism of the holiday and they were genuinely surprised.  We don’t have lights outside our house the way non-Jews have, much to my daughter’s disappointment.  It’s just not that type of holiday and I feel that lights outside our house would be sacrilegious. It’s not easy to explain to my children how our holiday is different to Christmas and why our celebration is so vastly different.  As a child, I enjoyed helping my friends decorate their trees and hopefully one of my friends will take up my request for my daughter to join in that tradition with them.  There is certainly nothing wrong with joining in.

When I talk about freedom, I’m looking through the lens of one who thinks about the 6 million who died in the Holocaust every day, and I’m also remembering my own childhood.  As one of the only Jews in my class year after year growing up in the south, I was one of the only children to take the day off for Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur.  Every holiday, I stood up and belted out Christmas songs at the top of my lungs during the school show but I secretly pined for the inclusion of Hanukkah songs and wondered why we couldn’t be included.  When I was in first grade, I had a teacher I loved.  I remember it vividly.  It was 1976, the year President Carter was elected.  He got voted in and the holiday crept upon us.  The tree went up in the classroom, and the creation of ornaments began.  I remember taking them home, not knowing what to do with them. And then the class celebration came and I was curious, as always, to the traditions of the holiday.  I loved the music, I loved the lights, I loved the spirit.  And then one classmate got up and started chanting a song about how Jews don’t celebrate Christmas and about how different we are.  And another classmate joined him.  And then were was a group of kids prancing around the tree singing about me and my heritage.  I didn’t understand.

My kids would have no comprehension of this kind of behavior.  They go to a school where everyone takes off for the Jewish holidays.  Come Hanukkah, their friends know the story behind the holiday and beg their parents to come for a candle lighting at our house.  Their friends envy the fact that the holiday falls so early in the month and that they get eight gifts (even though they are small).

They have the freedom even I didn’t have as a child.  This is what the Maccabees fought for and this is what we celebrate on Hanukkah.

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Deep down, I knew exactly what she was talking about.

Sometimes I do have too much fun with her friends.  I like to have a good laugh with them when we’re in the car.  I never realized I was embarrassing her, but now I realize I do.

What’s important for me to remember is that she’s growing up.  I’m not her hero anymore, although I hope to be again.  She’s dealing with so much – harder work at school, peer pressure, increased independence and a desire to do things on her own.  Life can be hard enough – who needs a mom who goes out of her way to throw herself at her friends?  Not that I do that, but lashing out at me may be a way of dealing with her own changes.  She’s developing emotionally and physically.  It’s big stuff.

And you know what?  I’m far from perfect and she’s at an age where she recognizes it.  She’s always called me her best friend, but I know I won’t be forever.

But I’ll sure be waiting on the sideline whenever she needs me.

How about you?  When did your kids start becoming embarrassed by you?

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For all these reasons and more, the last few days have been devastating for my family.  For one thing, we were fearful for our own lives.  The two days leading up to the hurricane were terrifying.  We stocked up on food and flashlights.  We secured the trampoline, removed the garbage cans and Halloween decorations from the yard, cleared the gutters and made sure we were equipped. We expected the worst and as the storm moved in and our power went out, we geared up for it.

The night of the story, our power went out pretty early.  As the winds picked up, we heard things banging around outside.  I walked by the air conditioner upstairs and the winds were so strong that it felt like the air was on.  My daughter, realizing she would have to sleep in the dark, became terrified and started crying.  Our house is surrounded by trees and we wondered about the fate of our house, as well as our own.

When we woke up the morning of the hurricane, everything was calm.  The storm had ended.  Our house wasn’t flooded, it was still standing.  We looked out the window and wondered about the rest of the world. Then we walked a few feet and found one of our neighbors’, one of my friends, homes hit hard by the storm.  Not one tree, but two, had crashed into her bedroom and left a hole in her house.  Stoically, she pronounced to me that she had been wanting new bedroom furniture and a rug and now her chance has come.  I so admired her pride and optimism.  That’s her house on the left.

But the truth is that it’s bad in NY .  It’s really bad. Massive flooding, the downed trees everywhere, the burned houses that have fallen to the ground, the Jersey Shore that has been ripped apart, flooded cars and homes, the destruction of public parks, damaged hospitals, destruction on Staten Island, Crown Heights, Fire Island, all over NJ, Toms River.  And shall we talk about NYC? The flooded subway system, power failures, tunnel, train and airport closures, evacuated residents, facades of buildings falling on the streets, flooded schools.  It’s unbelievable.

I don’t have power.  Millions of others don’t have power and everyone’s upset.  They’re all talking about what the government could have done to fix our infrastructure to avoid this mess. Do I like being without power and having the kids home all week?  NO. But I’m not blaming anyone for mother nature.  Maybe I’m too nice but after seeing the devastation that’s taken place all over my beloved city, and after seeing my friend’s house, and hearing about a neighborhood that burned down just 20 miles away in Greenwich, Connecticut, I will not complain.

We’ve spent the last few days cooped up at home.  My sister from Brooklyn came to stay and we’ve had candlelight dinners, long Scrabble games, games of Truth or Dare, cleverly made meals from all the food going off in the refrigerator and freezer, laughing at the equations of Sandy to the film “Grease”.  We’ve been staying close to the radio and Facebook, following up on all our friends and family to make sure everyone’s alright.

Halloween was canceled in our town, and you know what, none of us cared. There are trees, branches, wires all over our streets.  It’s not safe for kids to walk around in the dark.  Plus, this isn’t a time to celebrate while so many others are living in fear and going through such hard times.  That’s why I can’t blog or talk about much else this week.

Tomorrow stay tuned to find out how you can help the victims of Hurricane Sandy, whether you live nearby or not.

Let me know how you’re doing in the comments below.

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