Tag Archives: Co-Parenting

When Family Traditions Change as Kids Grow Up

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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

What The Orange Rhino Is Really About: Love, Honesty and Belonging

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This page has always been about one thing: love. How we give it, how we receive it, and how we learn to offer more of it to ourselves—especially when life feels heavy. As this community has grown, I’ve realized it’s time to be even clearer about who I am, what this space is for, and why it matters to me. From the beginning, this community has been built on supporting one another in a common goal – to yell less. We all wanted to yell less because we wanted to show our love more.

Our love for our children, our love for ourselves. We wanted to yell less because we wanted to love how we experienced life more; to go to bed with less guilt, with less disappointment, with less sadness, with less grief.

When this page grew and grew exponentially it was because of a shared goal that united everyone, regardless of race, religion, identity, you name it.

We were all focused on loving more.
On kindness.
On doing better.
On learning about ourselves, our children.
On teaching ourselves, our children.

We were all supportive of one another. Someone had a bad day, someone else left a comment showing they believed in them. Since I’ve returned to posting, the same common goal of loving more has remained, but with a tweak and some expansion.

The focus is definitely more about loving ourselves more, all parts of who we are (not just as people wanting to yell less) so we can create lives we love even more. In doing so, I write about a lot more than parenting. Parenting is a piece of my life, an important one.

But I am also a partner, a friend, a neighbor, a human. All these parts matter if I want to live a life that I love. I saw The Holderness Family (always so funny) make a post re-introducing themselves recently. And HR Mom (always so inspiring) made a post about who she is first and foremost. Whitney Fleming Writes (always so eloquent) shared a post about what she doesn’t fake outrage about. Dontcrossagayman (always just knows how to deliver and teach a needed message) shared a video about, well, all of the above.

I am inspired to follow these pages’ lead so that people can decide whether this space feels right for them. I feel weird writing that, if I’m going to be honest.

But, if I want to live a life that I love, if I want to go to bed feeling lighter, I need to be the most authentic version of myself. I strongly dislike coming on here and feeling like I am hiding parts of me. First and foremost I’m a mother, but I’m also a protector of this page. I want to ensure everyone here feels the same level of welcome, comfort, safety, connection and joy they felt when they first joined. I want to feel that sense of ease.

I want everyone on this page to come here and feel, “yes, I belong here. I don’t feel broken here. I feel seen. I can breathe.” I want this page to lift people up, to brighten their days so that getting through the inevitable gray of life is easier.

So, let me re-introduce myself, who I am first and foremost, and what I also won’t fake outrage about. Let me tell you a bit more about me.

1. I am an almost 48 year old perimenopausal woman with more wrinkles and skin cancer than I like. I’ve been divorced for 10 years and have been engaged for a lot longer than my fiancé would like because I’m so scarred by the divorce process.

I drink my coffee black because that is how I was introduced to it when I stayed with a family in Nicaragua. I no longer drink alcohol because alcoholism runs in my extended family and because I have health issues. Sparkling grapefruit juice with lime is my new favorite mocktail!

I have ADHD and I struggle with anxiety, depression, OCD, and sensory processing disorder. Some people say I’m a lot. I like to think I understand a lot about what it means to be misunderstood, not accepted and alone. It makes me a more loving person. 

2. Since I was at least 8, I’ve been helping others, spreading kindness, trying to bring people together, ALL people. It. Is. Who. I. Am and how I was raised. It is how I hope to raise my sons. Speaking of which… 

3. I am a mom to four neurodivergent sons. I have always said that I was given four sons for a reason: to ensure that I raise gentlemen who respect women so that I can make a difference in the way women are treated. It might only be 4 boys, but change starts somewhere.

Likewise, I’m making sure they understand how they deserve to be treated. Being a teen is hard. I’m also helping them learn how to safely stand up for those who aren’t treated well.

4. In high school, I made a list of lectures I thought our school should give. Sexual violence was one of them. Ensuring I raise sons who understand consent is a constant conversation. My disgust about the E-files is far from fake outrage.

5. My childhood pastor was lesbian. She was the absolute best. I have friends whose children are gay. I have friends whose children are trans. I have friends who are gay. I support and love them all.

6. Some of my best friends are Jewish. My fiancé is Jewish. My grandfather was Jewish but had to hide that aspect of himself:(I am Christian. I’ve been to Temple often and Church services too. We all want the same thing: to be the best, most loving humans we can be.

7. I traveled to numerous third world countries when I was younger. Those were some of the best experiences of my life. I learned so much from their cultures. I used to be fluent in Spanish. I still speak it when I can. I love connecting with people sharing moments of joy that cross languages. I love and appreciate other cultures.

8. I strongly dislike politics. I’ve always avoided talking about them because of the intensity. I value peace and connection. I believe in working together to find common ground and achieve common goals—and I believe both always exist, just not always easy to find or achieve. But I don’t give up. This was my strength as a leader when I worked.

I have friends who are Democrats and friends who are Republicans. I love and support them all. I believe listening doesn’t have to mean agreeing, and disagreement doesn’t have to mean disrespect. I listen to understand, because you can’t solve problems you don’t understand—and we can only grow if we’re willing to learn from one another.

9. In my darkest of times, let me tell you who helped me.
Democrats. Republicans.
People with white skin, black skin, brown skin.
Christian friends and non-Christian friends.
Straight strangers and non-straight strangers and friends.
People born in the United States, people not born here.
Neurotypical people and neurodiverse people.
I appreciate all of them, all. of. Them.

I would do the same, for all of them.

We are all humans trying to live lives full of love. It pains me deeply that not all humans are treated the same; that my friends, neighbors and those I respect are hurting.

10. I believe in treating others as I want to be treated. With respect. With kindness. With understanding. With grace. I look for the best in people. I celebrate people. I feel for people — I am an empath, through and through. These times hurt.

Oh, and I guess one more.

11. I am The Orange Rhino® created because I wanted more warmth, positive energy and determination in my life, especially when I felt like I wanted to charge or felt like I was getting knocked down. I’m dedicated to creating a space that brings people together while lifting them up, a space that cares for all people.

This is the heart behind The Orange Rhino®—real, human, rooted in love and kindness.

 Sending my warmth to everyone, today and always. Period.

xoxo, Sheila

🧡The Orange Rhino

(This was an unplanned, just written post. Be gentle if there are errors and please message me privately if I wrote something wrong; not my intention. I’m still learning. If I don’t post, I won’t, but I want to. That’s #12 I guess. I am a sensitive, learning to not worry what other people think so much, always trying to make progress and not be perfect, human.)

A Divorced Mom’s Thanksgiving: When the Holiday Is Beautiful and Hard

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It’s always hard posting stories like this. But, keeping it to myself doesn’t feel right. You all know me — I like to be honest and to fully represent the non-perfect side of social media. I thrive at that. Holiday seasons are full of beautiful family photos. And well… Moments before I took this photo, I had tears in my eyes.

It was the morning of my Thanksgiving with my boys. It was NOT going well. Boys were bickering. And that is being mild. My college kiddo was home. Since I’m divorced, I only had all my boys together for a whopping 1.5 days. I wanted the time to go well.

To go smoothly.
To be happy.
It. Was. Simply. Not. Going. That. Way.
It was disappointing.
Discouraging even.
Was this how the entire day was going to go?

I took a break from the situation. And here’s where my doubt in sharing comes, but stick with me, okay? To be honest, even though it was only 11:00 am I wanted a gin and tonic.

I wanted to ease the pain, the stress, the chaos, the feelings of discomfort. But I’m 320+ days of not choosing alcohol so I chose hot chocolate. It was good, but it wasn’t the same. Did it taste good, but in a different way? Yes! Did it help me relax in the sense that I slowed down, sat and really enjoyed it? Yes!

But did it numb the feelings? Did it numb my stress? No. Because really, that is what I wanted in that moment. To numb.

Here’s the thing…this post isn’t about alcohol and me preaching about how I have chosen to be sober (there are a lot of reasons there.) We all have something we turn to when we want to numb. I have a few. Shopping to decorate the house. Scrolling. Eating. Just zoning out to avoid. This season, when the to-do’s grow (even though they are ones I enjoy) when expectations grow, when kids anxieties grow because of school work, exams, and excitement for the holidays, when the this, the that, when it all becomes A LOT (even a lot of goodness) it is easy to want to numb, a lot.

But I know from years of learning to live with the gray…that numbing only pushes the pain down…down inside and down the road so to speak. It doesn’t actually make me feel better. And so I keep trying to find more productive ways to feel the gray so it doesn’t win in the moment. Not always easy, is it? All this to say… I share this story to simply say, I get it. I get the pressure. I get the desire to escape.

I get the wish to just feel better. I get the longing for ease. You aren’t alone in these feelings (that is if you get them) If no one in your friend group is openly talking about this, know that I am. I wish I didn’t want to numb as much; that things weren’t so much. I wish I turned less to shopping and eating.

But here I am. Knowing it, working through it, and doing my best. It ain’t easy. But I’m doing. Just like you. Sending my warmth to go with your strength, today and always, and especially if you are feeling all the “a lot” of this season, or in general and you are also trying to numb less.

xoxo, Sheila

🧡 The Orange Rhino

Sending a Child to College: The Excitement, Grief and Everything in Between

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Here’s the thing –> I’m a mess. I know I’m not the only one here sending a child off to college for the first time. This post isn’t just for those of us in these shoes. It’s for anyone feeling all the feels except for the one of being able to freely share that they are. Maybe I’m the only one feeling this way and if that’s the case, well, alrighty then. I don’t think it is though. I think there is a lot of subconscious messaging out there that leads people to not fully share how they are really feeling because they worry it won’t be received well, won’t be understood, will make them excluded, will make them feel broken or even more alone.

Again, maybe it’s just me and my past traumas and life experiences speaking…but I don’t think so. For whatever reason, I feel like I have to put on a brave face and pretend everything is honky dory right now, or at least mostly honky dory, as I prepare to send my firstborn off to his Freshman year. Social media is flooded with sentiments around “it will be okay” in regards to first children going off to college for the first time.

I know that, but right now? Right now, I’m not there. Right now, I have more worry than feelings of ease. I’m inundated with inspirational messages about how hard it is, but that I’ll get through it. Or there are messages of: I know how hard it is and here’s advice. These are great messages; helpful, beautiful, SPOT ON ACCURATE.

But right now? I’m full of overwhelm, doubt. My child isn’t even on campus so I can’t even think that far ahead. And also, right now? I don’t want that. I just want the messages to stop at, “It’s hard.” Or at least be followed by something along the lines of, Hey reader, I see you. I know you are feeling all sorts of feelings around your oldest child going to college for the first time. You are both excited for the fun you know they will have…but also worried that wait, maybe they won’t?

You know everyone takes a while to make new friends and really find a groove, and that it does work out…but also, what if it takes too long and turns into real homesickness? Or what if, what if they don’t find their people and it’s a repeat of high school? You know you have done your best raising them and teaching them about the ins and outs of the world, how to be street smart and book smart…but also, what happens when push comes to shove and it’s the new environment when peer pressure is a beast? What then?

You know you will both rise to the occasion, work through the challenge, and that your child will learn from it and that it is part of the experience…but also, UGH it isn’t fun, and also, what if, what if?! You know they have picked a great school, a great match for them and you feel so confident they will be taken care of…but also, gosh, darnit, you are going to miss them so much. So. Very. Very. Much.

How are you going to keep going at home for your other kiddos when you are missing one so much? You know this isn’t forever, that they will be home for breaks and summer vacations but also…you know this is a massive change in the way life looks moving forward, that this is the beginning of a major shift in the makeup of the home and vacations overall and that is hard as heck. How do vacations look in the future, especially as a divorced family?

You know it will all be okay at some point, that you will be okay through it all and also will be okay at some point…but also, but also… Can I please just feel all the feels right now and not have to feel better right now? Can I not pretend? Can I be real? Can we not say how hard and bittersweet it is, even though we know the future is also beautiful…and also bittersweet? Why do we always have to sugarcoat?!

Sometimes the best way to help someone feel better is to simply meet them where they are at and to STAY THERE in that feeling without moving them through it right then and there. I am not looking to wallow. I am not looking to stay stuck. I just need to admit that this shite is HARD and I’m feeling so many frigging emotions – and not because of perimenopause but because this transition is GARGANTUAN and it deserves the full acknowledgement as such.

I’m excited for all the experiences and friends and memories to be made…I’m sad because my buddy won’t be flashing his smile at me daily or his smirk when I make a bad mom joke; but facetime is a good replacement. I’m confident in the school and my son’s ability to figure things out…and I’m nervous for the transition, the skills that aren’t there, the challenges that I do know will happen. I’m overwhelmed because there is still much to do and I’m reassured because there is always Amazon and Target after the fact.

I’m all sorts of everything. And if you are too, I see you. I’m standing right there with you in the moment and staying there with you.

Sending my warmth to go with your strength, today and always, and especially, especially if you are feeling for whatever reason that you can’t fully express yourself or feel all the feels. I get it.

xoxo, Sheila

🧡 The Orange Rhino

The Christmas Gift I Never Forgot — and the Woman I Just Learned I Lost

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*Trigger warning, perhaps grab tissues, I know I should have* I wasn’t able to keep up with all the supportive comments yesterday as I received some devastating news midday. Oddly enough, it was right in keeping with the message of yesterday’s post – BE KIND.

Every December I write a post (shoot, and here come the tears again, they kinda haven’t stopped since yesterday afternoon) about the first Christmas after I got divorced.

I got divorced in November. It was either a few days before or after Thanksgiving. How’s that for timing? Needless to say I wasn’t really feeling the holiday spirit and if you have followed me long enough, you know I LOVE Christmas. Like, it’s my favorite time of year. It was hard that year though, for obvious reasons. I felt lonelier than ever. I felt worse about myself, than ever. I felt more doubt about my future, than ever. I felt more down, than ever.

So yeah, it was hard knowing Christmas was coming and that I wasn’t in the spirit? Well that just made it harder. I didn’t want to miss out on something so important to me. I just couldn’t lift my own spirits. Christmas for me isn’t about getting presents; it’s about creating magic and memories for and with my kids.

That said, it is nice to receive at least one gift and know that someone is thinking of you, you know? I knew that year, there wouldn’t be any presents for me under the tree when I came down Christmas morning. I knew I would have to wait until my parents arrived later that afternoon. This was a hard pill to swallow and it was bringing my spirits down even more. Right before the holiday break though, a package was delivered to my door.

I was PTO president that year and had become close with the Principal. We shared a lot in common. She too was going through a divorce. She too loved talking about leadership and obviously education. She too had children with ADHD. And she too, clearly liked to do nice things for others because the package was from her. “DREAM.” How appropriate. That is what the handwritten ornament said that laid on the coziest blanket I had yet to own.

Included was also a gift card to Barnes & Noble, Victoria’s Secret, and one to Dunkin’ Donuts. It was a gift basket inviting me to get some cozy pajamas, a hot cup of coffee and then curl up and read a good book. It was a gift to ensure that when I was by myself over the break, I had something to do…that I wasn’t totally “by myself.” The tears came to my eyes then, as they do now, the minute I saw the gift. The thoughtfulness was second to none.

That was in 2016. Nine years ago and it still, STILL warms my heart. That gift got me through my first Christmas divorced. That gift made me

*feel seen
*feel understood
*feel supported
*feel a heck of a lot less alone.

That gift gave me a “flicker of light,” to get through the holiday season. It was the nudge I needed to keep going on the hard days, the days I wanted to crawl back and in bed and hide or just bawl my eyes out. That gift was a lifeline. It invited me to dream of the future; of better moments, of better days, of better feelings.

I learned yesterday that the gift giver passed away unexpectedly. My heart broke when I read the news.

I used the phrase “flicker of light” directly from her obituary. Turns out, she had been the recipient of many “flickers of light” in her own life, during many of her own challenges, of which she had plenty and honestly, way too many. Her family was as grateful to those who gave to her, as I was to her. It was those “flickers of light” that kept my “gift giver” going for all the years that life tried so hard to weigh her down.

She was often misunderstood. But to me? Well, I understood her. And to me she had been nothing, absolutely nothing, but kind, thoughtful. To me, she had been one of the few people willing to listen to me. BE REAL during a REALly hard time. There aren’t a lot of people who have the heart, the courage, or the willingness to do that. I will never, ever forget that gift. I won’t forget the physical gift either, but the gift of letting me be real? Of letting me feel seen and understood? I won’t forget that either.

So I repeat, Be Kind, you never know the power or impact of one small action. And to my gift giver, one last thank you. Thank you for the gifts, and thank you for doing what you loved to do in your last days – teach.

Although I wish your passing didn’t have to be what made me really, REALly come to full realization of what I wanted to do with my life, it did. You taught me what my heart has always wanted and gave me the clarity I’ve been seeking for years. You gave me a final gift. Thank you, again. Your kindness of spirit will continue, I promise. Rest in peace. You deserve it. And to everyone here in this community, thank you for being here. Thank you for being kind, because I know you are. You always show such kindness to me and to everyone here through your comments.

Here, I
*feel seen
*feel understood
*feel supported
*feel a heck of a lot less alone and that, well that is just amazing. I hope you feel the same.

Sending my warmth, to go with your strength, today and always, and today I also send the reminder that it’s okay if you aren’t feeling strong today. Here, here you don’t have to be. Here, you can breathe, be at ease, and let your guard down. You don’t have to have it all together here.

xoxo, Sheila

🧡 The Orange Rhino

To everyone who is new here since yesterday, welcome and sorry for such a heavy post as your introduction to this community!

That said, this is me! I write about everything on my heart. I don’t hide. I believe in being real and I don’t really know any other way;) Besides, I know that we must experience the ups and the downs in life; the grays and the oranges so that we can truly live the life we want and be the person we want. We need the warm, uplifting orange moments to make the grays bearable and the grays well, gray happens. We can’t ignore them.

We need to acknowledge them and move through them so they don’t grow and cast a huge shadow on the bright, orange moments.

Letting Go as Your Kids Grow Up — Without Missing the Beautiful Parts

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I didn’t have kids so that I could be away from them; I had kids so that I could be with them. I didn’t have kids so that I could be around just for the tough times; I had kids so that I could witness, actively participate in the really beautiful times. The milestones. The celebrations. The achievements. Their excitement. Their joy. Likewise, I didn’t get married so that I could get divorced and then have to split up special days in my kids’ lives and therefore miss out on some pieces.

But here I am. Divorced and missing out.

Today, my second son is heading out for two weeks to go to a college for a science course he is wicked excited about. I helped him find the course, apply to the course, and pack for the course. I’m not taking him to the course though, his father is. I am taking him to another course later this summer, which is at my alma mater, so that’s cool. And we agreed to this arrangement for a few reasons so it kinda sorta makes sense that I’m not going today and also…and also…

It SUCKS. Like, a lot, a lot. I want to be there when his eyes go wide open as he sees how beautiful the campus is that he got accepted to for this summer program. I want to be there when he smiles with excitement as he sees all the events he gets to participate in. I want to be there to help him unpack and set up his dorm room. Sure, it isn’t “college” but it is a dry run. He’s my first kiddo going away for more than a weekend and well, it’s a big deal, for him, for me.

I want to be there to make sure he knows the this, the that, the that, the this. I want to be there to do the mom things, you know? To answer his questions. To ease his anxiety (which I know is high.) To support him in any way he needs. I just want to friggin’ be there.

But I won’t be. I’m missing out on a really, really big moment. And it sucks. It hurts. Like so, so much. I didn’t have kids so that I could be away from them; I had kids that I could be with them. I didn’t have kids so that I could be around just for the tough times; I had kids so that I could witness, actively participate in the really beautiful times.

The milestones.
The celebrations.
The achievements.
Their excitement.
Their joy.

And also, their worries and their needs, expected and unexpected. I had kids so I could be there for them. Life is both/and. Life is both orange and gray. We can understand something, and also not like it. We can support something, and also, strongly, strongly dislike it. Part of me is really friggin’ mad at myself for not saying I wanted to go as well but…it’s just the way the cookie crumbled. I just don’t like the crumbs.

Because that’s the thing, divorced or not, as parents, we do miss out sometimes. Even when not divorced, I missed out, rather, I opted out.

I remember my ex wanting to take the boys skiing for the first time. I really, really, REALLY wanted to go. But I was so overwhelmed with writing my book that I knew for me, I needed the day to myself to enjoy the quiet so that I could show up better for everyone that week.

So I missed out by opting out. MOOO lol. Even though it was my choice, it was still a hard call. The right call, but also the hard call. Same with the divorce. Same with today. And even though I have not missed a lot, and even though my ex and I have beautifully shared a lot, and even though I am so grateful for how well we have done, today, today is still hard and… I’m not feeling all the warm fuzzies about life.

I’m feeling them about my son though. I’m bursting with pride and excitement for him; with amazement at how he follows his heart time and time again. Life is both/and. If there is one upside to my divorce, it’s that because I do miss out on things now, I am much, much more intentional in living and much, much more intentional in my times with my kids.

People talk about FOMO oh so casually and almost make fun of it sometimes. Well for some of us, it’s real. So I make sure, when and where I can control things, I don’t miss out. I don’t want to miss out on anything because of my own doing, because of my own actions. Sure, I will opt out for my mental health so that I can show up better, so that I don’t get so burnt out or sick that I do miss out in the long run but… I won’t set myself up to miss out in the present.

I actively work to set myself up to be as present as I can in the moment. I didn’t used to be so good at it, but now, now I try harder than ever. It’s hard. (Okay Sheil, that is kinda a realllly big understatement lol. You couldn’t find a better word?!) And, it does put a lot of pressure on myself. No doubt. It’s extra hard now that I am actively working to effectively launch a new company. Trying to be the fully present mom I want to be so I “don’t miss a thing” while also trying to launch a company so that I fulfill my needs (which by the way, fuels my heart which helps me be more present) is a lot. It’s a juggling act, one I’m still learning.

This week, the company got dropped. It didn’t feel good. But I didn’t miss out on what mattered with my kids and that felt wonderful. My son and I packed all day yesterday. I was as present as I could be, pushing all my feelings aside to focus on him. Not easy. I’m going to post this and wake him up to see if he wants to go for breakfast, then send him off with his dad with a big hug and smile, and fight like heck to hold back my tears so I send him off with warmth, strength, and my confidence and happiness.

I don’t want to send him off with my baggage, just his. It won’t be easy. But when is parenting ever easy? Thinking of everyone today who is feeling the reality of life being both/and today knowing that we will all, yes all of us, get through these tough both/and moments. We will, we will. I promise. Truly.

Sending my warmth to go with your strength, today and always, especially if you know all too well what I mean about missing out, divorced or not.

xoxo, Sheila

🧡 The Orange Rhino

Saying Goodbye to a Home After Divorce: When Renovation Brings Up Everything

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Saying goodbye to the kitchen I designed with my ex-husband…the same kitchen where we celebrated birthdays and achievements, like my 365 days without yelling…the same kitchen where we stood and decided to end our marriage, where we decided to walk away from the dream we both so very much wanted, is turning out to be very, very hard. I am filled with both immense sadness and excitement. Life is both/and my friends.

I used to think it was black and white. I used to live in black and white, sometimes in gray. If there is one thing I’ve learned from my divorce, it’s the both/and. I’ve had to learn to hold space in the same hour for painful feelings and pleasurable ones. I’ve had to be an Orange Rhino day in and day out. I’ve had to really embrace that concept – that gray feelings are real and exist and need to be honored, and also that orange feelings, ones of warmth, positive energy, enthusiasm, ones that help us be present, be action oriented, be fulfilled, can exist too.

And the Orange feelings – they wrap the gray ones up with a big tight embrace so one can keep moving forward. Both/and Enthusiastic/Sad Orange/Gray And now I take my kiddos to school – literally using all the Orange energy I have to wrap up the gray with love so that I can be present with my kiddos and not snappy.

Sending my warmth to you, to go with your strength, today and always, especially if you too are working on wrapping up your gray this morning. Your gray is real. I see you.

xoxo, Sheila

🧡 The Orange Rhino