Iris Ruth Pastor's Blog, page 37
March 7, 2018
Maintaining Stable and Loving Family Relationships, with Dr. Ruth Nemzoff
I don’t know anyone with adult kids who doesn’t question their relevancy in their kids lives – and everyone has at least one sticky situation they can’t seem to satisfactorily resolve. That’s why I was so excited to chat with Dr. Ruth Nemzoff – author of Don’t Bite Your Tongue: How to Foster Rewarding Relationships with your Adult Children.
Ruth gives practical, straight forward advice on how to create close relationships with your adult kids, even though popular wisdom advises parents to let go, disconnect, and bite their tongues.
Click ‘play’ above to listen the the podcast, or find it on iTunes.
March 2, 2018
I’m Tired, But Also Relieved
It’s two weeks since my mom passed away and I find myself struggling about what to write about her and her death. So many feelings are cascading over me constantly – like a tsunami – washing away what I felt just seconds before and sweeping in new ones.
I think my overriding feelings are twofold:
I’m feeling great fatigue. Bone tired fatigue. The kind that a good night’s sleep doesn’t relieve. I’m tired from the myriad details pressed upon all survivors. I’m tired from the ever-present uppermost thoughts in my mind to set a good example for my grandchildren – to show them that even through the death of our beloved matriarch, there are rituals and traditions to comfort our shattered heats, calm our fears, and guide us through the discomfort and unknown. And I’m tired from responding graciously and authentically to the many whose lives my mother touched and whose death leaves an immense void.
I’m also relieved. My mom was a free-spirited, decisive woman who had had a rough year. And I had spent many days tormenting myself over her living far from her children and grandchildren – though her choice – but having too much responsibility for advocating for her own care. As a wise friend counseled me, “When a parent dies, we all feel like what we’ve done is ‘never enough.’”
And I’m experiencing a lot of incremental losses. Saying goodbye to my mom’s friends who have known me – not only before braces and boobs – but before baby teeth and sippy cups. I’m saying goodbye to my mom’s hairdresser who always worked me in and knew exactly how to trim my bangs. I’m saying goodbye to the waitress at First Watch who knew without asking not only what my mom was ordering – a Cobb Salad without avocado and bacon – but also what I was ordering – a turkey burger with accompanying greens. To the maintenance man who changed my mom’s air filters at the drop of a hat and the apartment security card who my mom brought dinner to almost every time she went out to dinner too.
Sure I’ll still visit my hometown. I’ll still see my sister-in-law and brother-in-law and niece and nephews and mother-in-law. And I’ll still run into my high school cronies and lunch with irreplaceable confidants whose friendships span decades. I’ll even have her two bedroom apartment to return to for the next couple of months. But something has fundamentally changed when returning to the city of my birth and to the city I’ve lived most of my adult life. Quite simply, my parents are no longer there.
When I flew up to meet her and her caregiver at the hospital emergency room just days before she died, I snapped the picture below. It’s the escalator I ascended after deplaning. It’s been many years since I’ve gazed up at the top of those moving stairs to see my mom and dad eagerly scanning the approaching crowd – waiting with unbridled excitement to see me emerge from the crowd. And even when they could no longer make the relatively complicated drive to the airport, I knew they were eagerly awaiting my tap on their apartment door. Even when my dad passed away five years ago, I knew my mother would still be in that same apartment – fully dressed, hair perfectly coiffed – ready to zip out the door with me in tow – as soon as I deposited my suitcases in the spare bedroom. Off we would go for lunch and shopping.
I haven’t cried much. I haven’t gone though her closet with my younger brother and sister separating what we will keep and what we won’t. I haven’t even received her official death certificates or written one thank you note for the many who have reached out to express their sympathies and condolences. I know the long process – I’ve walked the walk with many friends and family members who have buried their last remaining parent – many of them at much younger ages than I have.
All I keep picturing is that long escalator inching me forward to baggage collection. I know for the rest of my life, it will never be the mom and dad – who welcomed me into the world and raised me – certainly not perfectly – but absolutely the very best way they could – who will eagerly be scanning the crowd of arriving passengers looking just for me. And I – who adored them, was immensely proud of them and loved them just as imperfectly – will now step off that moving sidewalk stoically, collect my bags without fanfare, call Lyft with my phone app and begin the visit to the city I called home for so much of my life – without them.
I know I am identified in many ways – wife, mother, nana, sister, friend, writer, speaker and author. But as long as my mom and/or my dad were alive, I was still somebody’s little girl.
The world may see in me a woman whose gray roots are peeking through, whose hands are sporting a few age spots, whose eyes are ringed with bags, whose balance is a tad compromised and whose knee caps jiggle as she walks. But to my mom – to the very end – I was always that little girl with the sparkling brown eyes, wildly swinging pony tail, and skinny legs – running home from the bus stop to show her my newest creation.
A friend and fellow writer said it up best, “I know as long as my mom is around someone is really reading what I write. Someone is really proud of how I’m stringing my words together. Someone is remembering weeks later a quote I used, a new word I embraced or a new slant I expressed.”
I’ll miss a lot of things, but I think that unrestrained love and devotion is what I’ll miss most.
Keep Preserving Your Bloom,
Iris
February 23, 2018
A Tribute to My Mother
My mother passed away this week. My time has been spent attending to her funeral, connecting with family, and of course, honoring who she was and all she has given.
If it is okay with you, I would like to share her life with you.
She was an only child and impressed on her children the importance of having more than one child. So I took her admonition seriously and gave birth to five.
My mom was raised by a mother who worked full time so she impressed on us the importance of a mother being there when the yellow bus dropped off her kids at 3 pm every afternoon from school. I followed her example so wholeheartedly that one of my kids in utter exasperation asked me why I had to be home EVERY day when he got home from school. Couldn’t I at least every once in a while find something ELSE to do?
My mom was instantly captivated by a brash young man when she was 16 and married him at 17 when he went AWOL from the Army Air Corp before being shipped off to England during World War 2. I followed her example in this too but my captivating young man came a little bit later in life than hers did. And he only had to give up a day of working out at the gym to marry me.
My mom wasn’t perfect – she always was late to pick me up from school, a friend’s house or a birthday party, but in most other ways she was pretty damn close to perfection.
She was always there for me. When I was devastated by a break-up with a boyfriend, I’d get from my dad some obnoxious remark like “there’s nothing deader than yesterday’s romance,” but my mom would comfort me – saying “Everything you are feeling has been felt before,” and “those awful feelings would not last forever.”
My mom was known for many things:
Her sliver cake – one sliver and you kept going back for more
Her bowls of Rice Chex cereal coated expertly in white chocolate
Her ability to balance her check book to the penny and complete the word jumble that appeared daily in the newspaper
Creativity was woven through her DNA – “La Bev” was her self-given nickname – not because she was a diva but because she truly regarded herself as a creator. Table decorations, invitations, and party planning all were her playground.
She was a trooper. She lost most of her hearing, so she learned to text. Her children moved away, but she refused to leave her hometown and doubled down on caretakers. She lovingly kept the friends she had and made more. Though she was driving less and less as her energy flowed away, she passed her driving test just a few weeks before it expired.
She was known for excellent memory, organizational skills, empty closets and exceptionally spotless premises. I can speak for my sister, brother and me when I also admit those genes eluded us.
In 2015, when Union Terminal – the majestic architectural gem of the City of Cincinnati – needed to pass a levy for essential maintenance and repair, there was only one commercial they ran continuously and only one person in that commercial: my mother.
On February 17, her 91st birthday – though she lay in a coma in hospice – my brother and sister and I – along with a group of friends and family – sang her Happy Birthday and cut her cake. About thirty minutes later, she slipped away. She died as she had wished – on the day she had been born and in the midst of a “party.”
The Cincinnati Reds lost a loyal fan.
The Cincinnati Museum Center at Union Terminal lost one of their strongest supporters.
Indian Creek Apartments lost a model resident.
A lot of people lost a loyal and caring friend.
Embers, Bob Evans, First Watch, Skyline Chili, the bagel shop, Graeters and Trios lost a good customer.
And our family lost our beloved and indomitable matriarch – “La Bev.”
But I must say, as sad as we are on her passing, I know there are four souls who are extremely joyous:
Her mother – Lily Diamond Friedman
Her father – Frank Friedman
Her husband – E. Pike Levine
And her older brother, Joseph, who died before she was born and who she grieved for throughout her life.
She’s now with them for eternity.
So farewell, Mom.
We will miss you greatly.
We will love you forever.
And we will live our life with zest and curiosity and passion in celebration of your passing.
Just as you lived yours.
– Iris
February 16, 2018
Energy, Awareness, Focus, and Wonder
Through circumstances not altogether pleasant I found myself in the waiting room of Mt. Sinai Hospital in New York City on Super Bowl weekend.
Trying to distract myself from the myriad of tests my husband was having on his spine, I started reading the weekend edition of the Wall Street Journal I had picked up at the airport just hours before. Page by page, I patiently perused the book section.
What a wealth of information I was treated too. And I’m eager to share.
ENERGY
Ever gritted your teeth in chest tightening pain as you attempted to endure your daily morning run? Author Alex Hutchinson says that “the feeling that you can go no further is just that – a feeling.” Hutchinson notes that if you change your perception of a task’s difficulty, you can change your actual results. Hutchinson demonstrates this by citing a 2006 analysis by South African scientist Ross Tucker, who analyzed the pacing patterns of sixty-six races dating back to the 1920’s. The last kilometer was either the fastest or second fastest pace in every case but one.
His conclusion: the sight of the finish line – and the knowledge that you can soon stop – automatically reframes your brain’s interpretation of your body’s signals. And you discover that you’re not quite out of juice after all.
I’ll remember that the next time the elliptical machine begins to beat me down three quarters of the way through.
AWARENESS
Ever thought when it comes to parenting, that MORE is always BETTER? You may want to re-think this assumption. Jennifer Wallace, a free lance writer in New York, wrote about the perils of over-discussing your child’s problems and that it often can do a child more harm than good.
Wallace notes that “when children routinely engage in what psychologists call ‘co-rumination’ excessively re-hashing and speculating about problems with a parent…it can amplify stress, impair judgment, and increase the risk of them developing anxiety and depression.”
Wallace cites a study by Dr. Amanda Rose, a psychology professor at the University of Missouri, who says one of the most effective ways for parents to break the co-ruminating habit is to be aware that they are doing it. And to share with their child that they want them to feel good and not get stuck thinking about the negative.
FOCUS
Ever since I’ve raised my five boys – a process that seemed to go on forever – I’ve puzzled over my frantic pace to write, tell stories, do public speaking and learn about as many new things as I can. It seemed so counter intuitive. I kept telling myself that now that my nest has emptied, I should be vacationing, reading more, lunching with my friends, shopping at the mall. Why was I pushing myself so hard, for so long, so relentlessly to create?
I think I have found the answer.
Melissa Schilling, professor at New York University Stern School of Business, notes that a single-minded life of invention is hard to combine with family obligations. She talks about rushing around her apartment one morning at 6am getting ready to fly to California to teach an innovation workshop. Her ten year-old son looks at her with sad eyes and asks, “Why are you always busy?” Her heart begins to pound and that familiar knife of guilt and pain twists in her stomach. She concludes that “the need to connect with our children does not prevent women from being successful…but it may get in the way of having the almost maniacal focus” that famous innovators exhibit.
Schilling concludes that mothers can be important innovators, but their years of intense focus might start later. Got it.
WONDER
So have you ever sat next to someone at a dinner party who knew just as much as you do about novels, but was also knowledgeable about opera, and had an encyclopedic knowledge of the English Civil War and French wines? And then did you feel an anxiety that nudged beyond the envious and begged the question: “How does she find the time?”
Essayist and author Zadie Smith had that exact experience. If she, who is so mightily accomplished, gives into this type of existential angst, then I truly know I am not alone. So I can write. Can I rattle off the Latin names for my wild array of houseplants? Certainly not. Can I pinpoint the exact years of Reconstruction after the Civil war? Hardly. Do I know how to play the piano and the flute and speak three languages? Tee hee.
CONCLUSION
I love newspapers. Not the online ones. The paper ones. The ones where the ink smears, articles get ripped out of and they don’t need batteries to charge in order to get the latest breaking stories. They inform. They instruct. They enlighten. And they make me feel better about myself.
Tell me what does that for you?
Keep Preserving Your Bloom,
– Iris
February 13, 2018
The Healing Power of Journaling, With June Alexander
To listen to my latest podcast episode, click ‘play’ above, or find it on iTunes.
Eating disorders are often a subject shrouded in shame – thought to be only a young girl’s burden. June Alexander, who suffered from anorexia for decades, shred her story of battling anorexia and her ultimate recovery when we talked recently. But what really struck me was learning about the wondrous healing power of journal writing to effect positive and permanent change. And how much success June has enjoyed in teaching others this simple skill.
If you have anything in your life you are grappling with, hearing June’s uplifting story will give you a push in the right direction. And her takeaways for successfully overcoming hurdles are grounded in practicality.
You can find June in the following places:
https://www.thediaryhealer.com
https://twitter.com/junealexanderAU
https://www.instagram.com/junealexand/
https://www.facebook.com/thediaryhealer/
You can subscribe to the Preserving Your Bloom podcast here.
February 5, 2018
Eating Disorder Trends, Treatment and Renewed Hope for Recovery, with Elissa Myers
Learning something new can be invigorating. And I certainly was reminded of that when Elissa Myers and I spoke recently about her role as Head of The Academy of Eating Disorders. We are a trend-hungry society (I use the word hungry deliberately) and like any other field of study, new treatment techniques are constantly evolving. Some surprising stuff here – especially when Myers spoke about the newest population suffering from disordered eating patterns. Quite a revelation.
Want to learn more about treatment options, prevention, education and research? Myers provides easy to understand, straight forward advice and information from someone heavily invested in keeping abreast of the most cutting edge initiatives in the field of eating disorders today. And best of all, if you or someone you love has an eating disorder, her advice is clear cut and applicable.
Click ‘play’ above to listen to this podcast, or find it here on iTunes.
February 2, 2018
I Didn’t Expect to Find This in North Carolina

Thank you to all of you who have made this possible. If you haven’t yet checked out the book, please consider supporting me by ordering it here, and then leaving a review for it on Amazon.
The second unexpected thing that happened this week began with this catalog and encouragement from my friend, Sherry, who has gone to the John C. Campbell Folk School for years.

The school offers year-round week-long and weekend classes for adults in crafts, art, music, dance, cooking, gardening, nature studies, photography and storytelling. It’s a place that still makes things by hand.
I register for Healing Through Story Telling. A week before departure, the class is abruptly canceled. I’m offered an alternative. I ponder. The timing is awful – my book launched January 30 – I should be spending my time hunkering down at home and riding the publishing roller coaster.
“What the heck,” I think. “Seize the opportunity.”
I switch to batik on paper and bookmaking – having no idea what my choice of class will entail.
The trip starts off great. I arrive at the airport with plenty of time to spare.
I’m upgraded to Delta comfort.
Red is my favorite color – and Hertz has one bright cherry red car on the lot in Atlanta. The check-in girl even hands me a bottle of water for my two and one-half hour trip from Hartsfield Jackson Atlanta Airport to Brasstown, NC.
I start to get uneasy as the miles flow past though. I notice that the last Starbucks is sixty miles from the school’s isolated location. Needing a caffeine fix, I continue on the windy mountain roads, somewhat unsettled by the rural starkness.
As I pull into the school’s entrance, the rain gets heavier and the gravel paths connecting the main house, the dining hall and the various studios are muddy, puddled and slick. A tickle of apprehension slivers through me. Then a sigh of relief descends. Though I had packed very lightly, I was well-equipped to brave the mountain elements: old jeans, sturdy black worker shoes sporting rubber soles and my rain repellent hooded jacket.
To my immense relief, I was not given a roommate, but was assigned a cottage with a private room. Immaculate, but spartan.
What’s missing in this picture? Yep. No television. CNN withdrawal creeps in, and the silence of the room is eerie.
I make friends.
Cliff – lives in South Carolina, in a log cabin without Internet and TV. Two red tail boas, two Dumeril boas, and a Columbian rain boa keep him company. Mostly self-taught, he plays guitar, mandolin, bouzouki, dulcimer, banjo, flutes and didgeridoo to name just a few of the many musical instruments he has mastered.
Anna – wears a different brightly colored felted flower every day. Her grammar school in Zebulon, Georgia, was built in the 1920’s and is in a state of disrepair. She tells me she sells her winter flowers for $25 per piece and the money goes to the restoration project of the school.
Morning Song begins at 7:45am. This Danish custom of singing, folklore, and camaraderie is a wonderful start to the day. Meals are served family style, featuring as much farm-to-table produce as possible. And everyone randomly sits where they choose, thus ensuring your meeting a great number of fellow students.
Studio Time is Friday evening, most of Saturday and two hours on Sunday. It is go at your own pace.
We learn batik on paper – and finish up by using one of our creations as a journal cover for a book we made. How ironic that I spent the weekend physically making an actual book while so busy promoting one virtually.
Five students – one teacher – here is our studio.
And here is our group:
What did I get when I allowed myself to step out of my self-imposed silo and experience something different and strange?
A chance to replenish my soul in the mountains and get my mind off my book launch, the size of hips and the latest headlines.
An opportunity to be true to my brand – Preserving Your Bloom – in the midst of a very busy and stressful time, I removed myself and let myself re-fuel in an idyllic setting.
And the ending was just as perfect. I woke up early Sunday morning and as I’m brushing my teeth, my eye catches a bright dot above me where the ceiling meets the wall. What do I see? A ladybug, which is a spirit animal who brings luck and abundance wherever she goes.
I was fortunate to experience the tradition and history of the Appalachians. I departed with energized inspiration and renewal that came from visiting this special place.
When is the last time you did something that fed your soul and rekindled your creative juices?
Occupied your hands?
Called on new talents and strengths?
Don’t wait.
Keep Preserving Your Bloom,
Iris
January 18, 2018
Ax the Diet Mindset, with Dr Nina Savelle-Rocklin
January screams at us: GET SKINNIER IN THE NEW YEAR. Sure it’s a month of new beginnings and new resolutions. But for chronic dieters and those of us who are NOT HAPPY with our body shapes, January – though ripe with promise – creates a culture of unbearable discontent.
I’ve got an antidote to counteract the insidious media messages we are bombarded by relentlessly. You know the ones – promoting a feeling that our bodies are not good enough as is – subtly planting the thought that there is a moral superiority in being thin. How dare they imply we need flatter tummies, firmer breasts and tauter arms to be not only healthier, but happier?
That’s a lot of pressure. And I’m fighting back.
Coinciding with my book launch of The Secret Life of a Weight-Obsessed Woman, I’m also launching the Preserving Your Bloom podcast, or PYB as I like to say. You can subscribe to the podcast on iTunes.
Imagine us sitting around your kitchen table chatting with people you’d like to get to know better – fascinating people with wisdom-packed, relevant stories and perspectives – all aimed at helping you live the life you crave.
My first guest helps us do just that.
Dr. Nina Savelle-Rocklin is a Los Angeles based psychoanalyst who specializes in weight, food and body image issues and the author of the book Food For Thought. Dr. Nina, who treats adult patients only, shares her thoughts and observations on the importance of implementing an anti-diet mentality.
Dr. Nina emphasizes that people suffering with disordered eating patterns are not eating because they are physically hungry, but to satisfy emotional hungers. Rather than eating to fuel our bodies, she maintains, “we are eating for comfort, for distraction or to numb ourselves against difficult feelings.” Dieting is not the answer.
We can ax the diet mindset. We can reduce cravings and free ourselves of destructive behaviors and thought patterns. We can develop sources of comfort within ourselves to self-soothe that don’t involve food.
Want to have Dr. Nina sit around YOUR kitchen table?
Click ‘play’ below.
The adventure begins.
December 29, 2017
Give Better Gifts. Here’s How…
to be put away
to be given away
or to be surreptitiously re-gifted
I’m writing about gift giving simply because gift giving is truly an art. Selecting a gift for someone that will resonate deeply and touch them profoundly requires effort, time and forethought. And even four days after Christmas is not too early to start.
Darin and Gopal – who used to live across the street from my husband and me – sent us a holiday present. As soon as the package landed on my front stoop, the artistic label brought a warm glow:
The label is original and colorful. Inspirational messages are tucked into three of the boxes – reflective of their personal values:
“To be beautiful means to be yourself. You don’t need to be accepted by others. You need to accept yourself.” — Thich Nhat Hanh
“The most powerful force in the world that can change the life of millions of people is COMPASSION.”
“UBUNTU – (n.) the belief that we are defined by our compassion and kindness toward others.”
Upon opening the box, we were further enthralled:
Twelve handpicked jams and jellies from around the country rested inside the corrugated box. Each jar was stamped with a different month of the year and each jar had been personally selected by Darin and Gopal. An accompanying letter explained their cross country journey to search out their ultimate jam and jelly selections, accompanied by a recipe for each month’s choice.
I was awestruck by their creativity, so grateful for their deep and abiding friendship and humbled by their endless well of generosity and thoughtfulness.
Think about the gifts you received
Did any wholeheartedly inspire you?
Did any impress you with the amount of contemplation behind the gift itself? Did any move you to elevate your own gift giving expertise?
Tips for better gift giving
Give presents that reflect who the recipient truly is, not who you want them to be. Example: giving a gym membership to a family member who you’ve been nagging all year to “lose the gut” may not be interpreted in a positive way.
Be practical. Blogger Mandy Stadtmiller gave her husband deluxe Bose noise-canceling headphones because they live in a small apartment.
Be introspective and sleuth a little. Blogger Laura SunEagle suggests making a list of your giftee’s characteristics, favorite things, and inside jokes that you share. Consider things like:
Does this person enjoy experiences more than things?
Do they only like practical things?
Or are they only interested in items with decorative function (photos, paintings, sports memorabilia, etc.)? Her sister, for example, doesn’t care about anything unless she can drink coffee out of it.
SunEagle also advises searching on Etsy or Pinterest. “If your giftee uses Pinterest, buy stuff that they have pinned. This is the best life hack that you will ever receive,” she notes.
Mastering the art of gift giving involves observation. Listen and pay attention – people often comment on their likes, dislikes and interests. Utilize this information to lead you in buying a gift that will be both valued and appreciated.
Be strategic. I hate shopping, so I do double-duty. While waiting for two gift cookie platters to be assembled recently, I looked around at the store’s gift inventory and found this.
Be positive: I often give items depicting a lady bug, whose spirit is associated with good luck and new happiness.
And I give hamsas – in all shapes and sizes – which is a Middle Eastern amulet associated with protection against evil and a harbinger of happiness, luck and health.
Avoid the obvious: My dearly departed cousin, (who just happened to adore the color purple, which I DON”T) gave me every imaginable item that sported a picture of an Iris on every gift giving occasion – from guest towels and napkins to a toilet bowl brush, stamped with an “Iris.” Seriously?
What present this holiday season did you receive that struck you with its originality, resourcefulness and bigheartedness?
What’s the most meaningful gift you ever received?
And really, really, really, what’s the worst gift you’ve ever received?
Let me know. Happy New Year.
May you be blessed in 2018 with good health, good times and good fortune. And, of course, lots of meaningful gifts!
Iris
P.S. Adventurous in the kitchen? Here’s Gopal and Darin’s January selection:
The Biscuit
Buttermilk biscuit
El Trigal raw milk Manchego (very popular Spanish cheese)
Sausage (Veg option: garden veggie patty)
Raspberry mango passion fruit jam
Warm biscuit in oven while cooking either sausage or patty. Cut a generous slice of room temperature Manchego and place it over the sausage or patty just as it finishes cooking in order to melt it. Place on inside of biscuit top half.
Slather a healthy slice of jam on the bottom half of the biscuit and top with the melted top half. DEVOUR.
I’m saving this meal for the last Sunday in January.
Happy Feasting
December 27, 2017
Do You Want an Instagram Husband?
I ran across the funniest video the other day; it’s called Instagram Husband:
I will admit, there is something compelling about the idea of having a husband who is at your beck and call. Okay, I get he’s a little bitter, bored and downright disgusted by his partner’s relentless pursuit of the “perfect shot” to portray their “perfect life.”
But isn’t it pretty nice to have:
A spouse who supports you and your antics? Projects? Interests? Even obsessions?
A spouse who isn’t at a loss for useful things to do to fill his time? And maybe even helping you with yours?
The holidays are here – we’re taking a break from our normal daily routines. We’re taking time off. We’re reconnecting with family and friends. Reflecting on our own dreams and goals. Considering not only the aspirations of our spouse or significant other, but his prominence and importance in our “perfect life.” So if one of your New Year’s resolutions might be turning a Couch Potato Hubby into an Instagram Hubby in 2018, consider the following:
Does he truly enjoy being with you? And you with him?
Does he embrace the adage “Happy Wife, Happy Life”?
Does he need a hobby?
If your answers are “Yes,” you may be able to pull off the mighty feat of having an Instagram husband who is not annoyed, irritated and frustrated. He may be an Instagram Husband who is actually invigorated, thoroughly engaged and attentive in portraying those special moments with you.
But if you fall short and abandon the whole project, that’s okay too. Living those perfect moments AND those more mundane moments is what life is all about. The most important thing is that he’s by your side while doing it – whether he’s snapping pictures or not.
Happy holidays! Keep Preserving Your Bloom,
Iris