Tag: Commentary

What give your cheap thrills?

My cheap thrills? Scrolling YouTube way too long, playing cozy little games on my iPad, wandering the library aisles like it’s a treasure hunt, and getting lost in paint colors. None of it costs much, but all of it fills me up.

Do you like watching reruns?

Yes, I love watching reruns of shows because I often don’t discover them until they’ve been on the air for a while. One of my all-time favorite shows is Bones, and I find myself constantly watching its reruns because I simply can’t get enough of its intriguing stories and compelling characters. Each episode feels like a new adventure, allowing me to immerse myself in the world of forensic science and the complex relationships that develop throughout the series.

Should parenting classes be mandatory for new parents?

Yes, I think they should.

Not because parents are “unprepared” or “don’t know what they’re doing,” but because raising a human being is one of the most important responsibilities anyone can take on—and we don’t treat it that way. We expect people to just figure it out, often without support, guidance, or a community to lean on.

Parenting classes, when done well, aren’t about telling people how to raise their kids. They’re about giving families tools, confidence, and a foundation to build on. Things like:

• Understanding child development so parents know what’s normal, what’s not, and what behaviors are actually age‑appropriate.
• Learning how to communicate with kids in ways that build trust instead of fear.
• Knowing how to set boundaries that are healthy, consistent, and rooted in connection.
• Recognizing signs of stress, postpartum challenges, or developmental concerns early, so families can get support instead of struggling alone.
• Building a support network—because parenting is easier when you’re not isolated.

To me, making parenting classes mandatory isn’t about control. It’s about equity. Not everyone grows up with healthy models of parenting. Not everyone has access to mentors, resources, or guidance. Classes level the playing field so every child has a better chance at a safe, stable, nurturing start.

And honestly, even the most loving, well‑intentioned parents benefit from learning, reflecting, and having a space to ask questions without judgment.

Parenting is too important to leave people to “figure it out” in the dark. If we can offer support before the overwhelm hits, why wouldn’t we?

What do you think is worth waiting for?

I think the things worth waiting for are the ones that can’t be rushed—because they only become what they’re meant to be in their own time.

Some things unfold slowly on purpose. They need space, patience, and a little faith. And honestly, the older I get, the more I appreciate the kind of goodness that doesn’t show up instantly but arrives steady, earned, and real.

For me, what’s worth waiting for looks like:

• Clarity. The moment when the noise settles and you finally understand what you want, what you need, or what the situation actually is. Clarity doesn’t come on command, but when it arrives, it changes everything.
• People who show up consistently. Not the grand gestures, but the ones who keep choosing you in small, quiet ways. The kind of connection that grows roots instead of sparks.
• Growth that sticks. The slow, unglamorous kind—unlearning old patterns, building new ones, becoming someone you’re proud of. It’s never instant, but it’s always worth the wait.
• Peace. Not the “everything is perfect” kind, but the “I can breathe here” kind. The kind you create through boundaries, honesty, and choosing yourself.
• Moments that feel earned. The ones that come after effort, reflection, or healing. The ones that mean more because you didn’t shortcut your way to them.

In short, I think anything that asks you to slow down—anything that grows you, steadies you, or brings you closer to the life you actually want—is worth waiting for.

What is the number one thing people are always asking you for help with?

The number one thing people ask me for help with is turning chaos into something usable.
Sometimes it looks like planning a route, rewriting an email, or organizing a school schedule. Other times, it’s helping someone find the right words for a hard feeling or a complicated situation. At the core, people hand me a tangle of tasks, emotions, or words—and ask, “Can you help me make sense of this?” That’s my favorite kind of work: noticing the pattern, naming what matters, and shaping it into a plan, a paragraph, or a next step that actually feels doable.

Are you an organ donor, if so why/why not?

Yes, I am.

For me, it comes down to a simple belief: if something I no longer need can give someone else more time, more birthdays, more ordinary mornings with the people they love, then that feels like the right choice. I’ve seen enough of life to know how fragile it is, and how much difference one act of generosity can make.

I don’t think of it as a grand gesture. It’s more like leaving the light on for someone who’s still on their way home. If my life can help someone else continue theirs, even after I’m gone, that feels like a meaningful way to leave the world a little better than I found it.