When Family Traditions Change as Kids Grow Up

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

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

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