When Family Traditions Change as Kids Grow Up

Posted on July 4, 2026 by The Orange Rhino

I’m shaking as I type, and I haven’t even had my coffee. For the first time in fourteen years, I didn’t buy my sons the matching Old Navy 4th of July T-shirts.

And it’s hitting harder than I expected. I know. They’re T-shirts. Basic, silly T-shirts. Except they were never basic to me. They were the one thing that stayed consistent, no matter how much our 4th of July changed.

And it turns out, there are several other changes today I didn’t plan for…so yeah, I’m wishing I had the shirts. And yeah, I’m wishing change wasn’t happening…again. July 4, 2023 was Change 1.0. The experienced moms told me it would be okay. There would be new memories. They were right. And also, here I am. Change 2.0 is happening today, and once again, I’m feeling every bit of it. I feel it in my bones. Literally.

I’m jittery. I’m anxious. My body knows something is changing even as my rational brain keeps saying, “Sheila, not everything is changing. At least ALL your boys are here, together. That wasn’t even the plan a few days ago!” But still…. The back story. My boys and I used to go to Stone Harbor Beach every July 4th week. For years. First as a family of six, with my ex-husband. Then one year with him even though we were separated.

I can laugh now. We must have each had our own internal fireworks. We came home, went to couples therapy and promptly decided, yep, divorce is the right thing to do. Then I went to the beach with just my boys, then with my fiancé and his kids.

And then, in 2023, it stopped. My boys had jobs. The week was no longer an option. A three-day weekend didn’t always happen. It was heart-wrenching. I love traditions. I love the stability they offer in a world full of chaos. The knowing. The having something to look forward to. The ability to take the same picture year after year and pretend, for one second, that nothing is changing as fast as it actually is. (Did I mention I’m sentimental too?!) I did my best to make new traditions at home in NJ.

I mean, after all, we still had the annual Old Navy 4th of July shirts, right? At least I had the picture and the bickering to go with it?! Everything turned out okay. We were together. Laughing. Eating hot dogs. Doing sparklers. Fireworks in the local park didn’t compare to those over the ocean—and basically overhead—but I survived. It wasn’t the end of the world like I imagined. Anxiety sure can create the worst-case scenario. Then last year, a three-day weekend aligned and we made it back to Stone Harbor.

Oh, how my heart filled. And my pocket emptied! This year, another three-day weekend presented itself. So did my rational self. I decided it wasn’t worth the price. The boys had outgrown the hotel pool since we have one now. And since they are six feet tall, the small beds also weren’t working so well.

So we are home, again. I thought I was okay with that. We’d been home before. And Change 1.0 wasn’t actually so horrific.

But then I realized: for the first time in fourteen years, I hadn’t bought the shirts. A small detail. A massive impact. That is the thing about traditions. To everyone else, it can look like a shirt, a meal, a picture or a silly little ritual. –> But sometimes that tiny thing is what holds every memory over the years together; holds everyone together, BRINGS everyone together. At first, I was okay. I was even proud of myself for all the “self-growth” of being able to just roll with it.

I may or may not have high-fived myself. Then yesterday some conversations started popping up in the house and my pride turned into a little bit of panic. I had a vision for tonight: a family bbq like always, my boys and our picture. Apparently, my boys had their own vision: friends, more friends and a few people I haven’t met yet. Times have changed. The tide has changed. As it should. I know it will change again.

As tides do. But today? Right now? It’s a hard adjustment. And I know it will be okay. I really do. But knowing it will be okay doesn’t mean it feels okay right now. Right now? It feels blech.

And I need to let it feel blech for a minute so it doesn’t follow me into the fun later today. I’m just wishing I had the shirts to at least hold onto….one thing to bring me back to the past, ya know? And honestly, I don’t want to share the day I pictured as ours, with others. I could say no. I’ve been practicing that more and more. But my heart also wants to say yes. It wants to see my boys happy just as much as it wants to hold onto the version of today that would make me happy.

And if that ain’t motherhood. So I said yes. Seeing them happy will make me happy. Just in a different way than I planned. I will still get a picture before everyone arrives. Maybe I’ll make them hold up paper that says “Red Old Navy Shirt 2026” or “Blue Old Navy Shirt 2026.” There will probably be eye rolls. There will definitely be bickering.

But there will also be laughter. It will be a different memory…and it will still count. And actually, I think it will probably be a better, funnier picture.

Now that I think of it, I’m scared about what my boys will write on their pieces of paper. Maybe I should just find colored paper to give them and cut it out in the shape of a t-shirt?!

Today is definitely not gonna go as envisioned. No beach. No t-shirts. A little extra heavy on some emotions today. And also. Extra people. Which will bring extra laughter, extra joy and all that jazz. Both/And. Gray/Orange. Sending warmth to you today, especially if something is different today, a tradition is missing, maybe someone you love. I get it. I’m right there with ya.

xoxo, Sheila

🧡 The Orange Rhino

How Do You Find Your Voice Again After Years of Turning It Down?

Posted on March 6, 2026 by The Orange Rhino

“How do you start turning up your own voice when it feels like it’s been turned down so much you can barely hear it anymore?” That question came from a fellow Orange Rhino. And my heart skipped a beat when I read it because… that was me. Circa 2016 until… well… still working on it. For years I slowly turned my own volume down. Pushing my thoughts down. Pushing my feelings down.

Meanwhile the “you’re not…” voices (fill in the blank with any doubting thought) got louder and louder. And the antenna of my intuition? It went from strong and upright… to bent and quiet. (cue: tears) Those weren’t fun years. In trying not to feel pain, I created more of it. I made decisions that honored others but ignored what my gut knew to be true.

And the outcomes almost always disappointed me. I took forever to make decisions because I forgot how to trust myself. I forgot how to believe in my abilities.

So I stayed stuck. Stuck feeling blech. Stuck living a life shaped by decisions that didn’t quite feel like me. And the self-doubt only grew because I kept asking myself: “Why don’t I trust myself?” “Why don’t I listen to myself anymore?” So yes. That question hit a nerve. A beautiful one. My friend, the answer is this: You start slowly. With love. With patience. And with the understanding that you won’t always get it right.

But over time, you get better. And that practice? That is getting it right. During my kitchen renovation there was a major mistake coming. I saw it before it even happened.

But my voice? I quieted it (and paid for it later. Sigh.) “Nah… trust the professionals,” I told myself. Right. Trust the professionals.

But here’s the thing I finally realized: I am the professional of my inner instincts. Of my feelings. Of the quiet voice inside trying to speak up.

When the renovation was finished, major mistake corrected, I stood in my cozy, bright white kitchen that I loved. I admired all the little details I had been told not to do.

And I said to myself: “You did this. You did this by listening to yourself.” I remember calling my mom and saying, “And you know what mom? I designed it. When am I going to start listening to myself more? Trusting my abilities again? Seeing what I’m capable of?” I wasn’t bragging. I was having a breakthrough.

So how do you start turning your voice back up and having your own breakthrough? You PR (don’t ask how my brain came up with that, but honestly, perfect here!) Practice. Reflect. Praise. Record. Patiently Repeat. Practice by showing up for yourself and trying to listen. It might be small. “I want tacos for dinner.” So… tacos it is. Reflect when something feels off. Ask yourself why. Then ask again. And again. (Often, if I’m honest, the answer hiding underneath is fear.) Praise and record the moments you do listen.

“See? I did it.” “See? I followed through.” “See? I trusted myself.” Give that quiet voice evidence. Proof that it’s getting stronger. Help it feel safe speaking up again. And most importantly… patiently repeat.

Because your voice doesn’t come back all at once. It comes back in tiny moments of trusting yourself. A decision here. A boundary there. A quiet “no.” A brave “yes.” Until one day you notice something surprising. You can hear yourself again. And you realize the voice you thought you lost? It was never missing. It was just waiting for you to start listening again. And you realize, my gosh, this feels great. Let’s start now.

What’s one thing your inner voice kept telling you… that you finally listened to — and it turned out you were right? I want to hear all about it and celebrate with you. For real.

Sending my warmth to you today and always,

xoxo, Sheila

🧡 The Orange Rhino

I Miss the Old Me: How I’m Finding My Way Back to the Parts of Myself I Love

Posted on March 3, 2026 by The Orange Rhino

Somedays, I miss the “old me.” The one who once wore a Shrek costume, stood in the elementary school drop-off lane, and welcomed everyone (and I mean everyone) to school. It was Halloween. I was leading the play and wanted a fun way to promote the kick-off meeting. No hesitation. No shame. Absolutely zero fear. 100% courage and “what do I have to lose?” I’ve also used to be a live auctioneer at fundraisers. I once stood in front of most of my company, mic in hand, spotlight on, and called out my Chief Marketing Officer to raise his bid.

I was 22. Maybe 23. Not even a year on the job. Talk about courage — or audacity. Your call. I still laugh at the fact that I did that. Like, seriously Sheil?! Some days I wonder where that girl has gone. (News flash: she hasn’t gone anywhere. She’s just been on vacation. Rumor has it she’s boarding the flight home. Hopefully she will stay a wee bit longer this time.) Seriously though — she’s not fully here right now, as I type out this post.

Because I’m oddly nervous. Afraid to take a very simple step. With people who aren’t even my boss. (Okay. We can call it what it is. Fear of rejection. Fear of officially taking a step forward. So…we’ll add fear of failure to that list.) So I’m borrowing a little Shrek-level boldness and auctioneer confidence and going for it.

Also known as, Orange Rhino-ness (Just came up with the word. I like it. It stays.) –> I’m looking for 5–10 women who’d be willing to help me as I prepare to wear one of my new “hats” this spring. If that sounds fun — or even mildly intriguing — and you’re willing to publicly share a photo, comment below and send me a message. That way I won’t miss it (hi, ADHD!) If more than 10 reach out, I’ll randomly choose. Happy Tuesday!

And happy me literally wearing a hat again after a week. Even if I couldn’t properly rest it on my head lol.

Sending my warmth, today and always.

xoxo, Sheila

🧡 The Orange Rhino