The hardest decision I’ve ever had to make was the decision to go separate ways. I was looking at a 16 year marriage going under and a little boy who doted on mom and dad and I knew it would break his heart and it did.
However, there was no other way out of the predicament I was in. I could pretend to stay in a marriage where one person dictated how it was going to be run. Meaning “cheating” was alright and I had no say in the matter. He learned different. Still, it wasn’t an easy thing to do. I had to take everything into consideration. I was in a foreign country, didn’t speak the language well, and I had a young boy to take care of. I still remember the letter our son wrote asking if he was the problem and if he was, he would do better. It broke my heart.
Walking away and shutting the door behind me was not an easy decision for all the reasons mentioned above but there was one other thing that took a hit. It was my self-esteem. I hit rock bottom and it took a long time and much working on myself to bring it back up. I learned that “cheating” destroys, it is a selfish act and the person who commits it, well they will do it again. It is just a matter of time. It becomes easier the next time around.
I wanted no part of that. During my journey, I also learned to find my self-worth and self-respect. It didn’t come easy but I knew that I was worth so much more and being in a mediocre relationship is not what a relationship is about. I don’t regret the decision to walk away.
Daily writing prompt
What’s the hardest decision you’ve ever had to make? Why?
I have a love-hate relationship with December The year is drawing to a close and I have a chance at making things better as year end approaches and a new one begins. Add Christmas to that and what’s not to like?
Plenty. I love Christmas, the sights, the sounds, the scents, and just the feeling of peace that is everywhere. The house comes alive with lights and there is this dreamy quality about it. The fireplace crackles, add a blanket or two on the couch and you’re ready to snuggle and watch the flames burn. There is just something about this time of year. I love it and yet, there is a certain sadness because the heart longs for Christmases past when loved ones were near and it was a time for family and friends to gather and celebrate the season. Christmas is no longer like it used to be. The circle has grown smaller and it is usually just Chachi and yours truly. Last year, I had a friend who came over but it wasn’t the same. This year, I might spend it with my “Little Buttercup” who is always ready to spend time with his mommy.
I have a love-hate relationship with this month. I love the cold, even better if there is snow outside, walks in nature are filled with wonder, and festive lights twinkling everywhere warms the heart and fills the soul with a certain something. I can’t put my finger on it. I call it “magic.”
However, there are definite downsides to this month as well and when you’re alone, it is magnified during this time of the year. I’m learning to cope with it and taking it in stride as I do with most things. Still, I do love December and all that it brings.
Reviews are worth their weight in gold because good ones are hard to come by so this one definitely put a smile on my face.
A Dad’s Perspective
October 29, 2025
Reading The Excellent Adventures of Honey and Hubie with my kids was one of those experiences that reminded me why storytelling still matters. Every night, we’d get a few pages in, and they’d lean closer—not because the story was loud or flashy, but because it felt alive. The author’s words paint a world full of color and curiosity, where bravery isn’t about fighting dragons but about facing something new with heart.
The story opens with a dedication that perfectly captures its spirit: “May you never lose your sense of fantasy because it is what dreams are made of.” That single line sets the tone for everything that follows. This book isn’t just about adventure; it’s about protecting that childlike wonder we sometimes forget to nurture. You can tell it was written by a parent who understands how powerful imagination can be.
Honey, the miniature greyhound, and Hubie, the loyal green frog, are a pair that children instantly connect with. Their journey takes them beyond the safety of the garden into meadows, forests, and encounters with fairies, frogs, Moppets, and even a skunk named Twister. Through every challenge, Honey discovers courage, kindness, and the kind of quiet strength that resonates deeply with young readers.
The pacing is steady and thoughtful, which makes it perfect for reading aloud. There’s action and excitement, but also calm moments where kids can picture what’s happening or ask questions. My oldest, who’s just starting to read independently, kept stopping to guess what might happen next. That kind of engagement doesn’t come from noise—it comes from good storytelling. What stands out most to me as a father is that the book never talks down to kids. It gives them credit for being thoughtful and imaginative. When Honey crosses the pond despite her fear or stands up for a friend, those moments land quietly but meaningfully. The message of courage and friendship isn’t forced—it’s felt.
The story has its quirks, and that’s part of its charm. It feels handcrafted, not polished by committee, and that’s a compliment. You can sense the author’s sincerity in every line. That kind of authenticity is rare—and children, in their own way, can tell when a story is written with love.
The Excellent Adventures of Honey and Hubie is the kind of book that lingers after the last page. It’s not just entertainment; it’s a gentle nudge to both kids and parents to hold on to imagination a little longer.
A timeless, heartfelt story that celebrates courage, curiosity, and the quiet magic of growing up.
Someone who is quiet, helpful, stays in their lane and is not a gossip monger. Those are some characteristics that I find necessary to being a good neighbor.
People around here usually keep to themselves but gossiping is a necessary evil in this village. What starts out as a small piece of gossip gets shredded and passed around until it comes out on the other end as something big and hard to believe or digest! I think it stamps from people not having much to do. Most are old and the only thing they have got going is keeping up with their husbands, household chores and gardening. Lest I forget, their window seat is their best friend! Nothing gets past the womenfolk here.
That said, there are those who are very helpful and caring. My neighbor across the street calls when she notices that I had left my garage door open. I have a tendency to forget and when the phone rings and I hear her voice, I know it is the friendly neighborhood watch person reminding me to shut the garage door! Then there is the one who brings me a jar of homemade jam made from the harvest of fruits in her garden. I find that to be very sweet. The gesture is often returned. Today, I gave away the ripe figs from my garden and she asked, “Would you like some apples?” I pointed to my apple tree and said, “I’m trying to do the same!”
I am lucky to have some good neighbors. Most are quiet and noise is not something I have to worry about. Most days, it is extremely quiet and I love it that way. I think I am a good neighbor. I’m helpful, friendly, and I make it a point to bring a bouquet or two of flowers to some of the women around here. It is well received and I’m rewarded with a great big smile!
It works both ways. It’s a give and take sort of thing. If you want a good neighbor, you have to start being a good one yourself. All I can say is that I have good neighbors and I am thankful for the peace and serenity that surrounds this place that I call home.
I think it was when I had my first job during the school holidays. Not sure how old I was, perhaps fifteen. The job was nothing to brag about. I worked in a store as a sales person. It was my first step into feeling like I was doing something productive. The job itself was boring and one thing I knew, I wanted to do better than that.
Anyway, when I got my first paycheck I was over the moon. It was money I had earned on my own and there was pride in that. Okay, it was a paltry sum but back then it felt like a whole lot of money! On my way home, I stopped at a Chinese restaurant and picked up some food to go. I think it was a noodle dish and a stir fry of some sort. Happy as a lark, I made my way home with the food containers tightly in grip and a big smile on my face.
I walked in the door like a grown up. Walking over to the table I placed the containers on the table and declared, “I brought food home.” I think I was glowing from head to toe! Watching my brothers and sisters dig in was something else and when my parents did the same, I felt like a grown up for the very first time.
It was my first grown up experience. However, these days kids are different. My son had everything handed to him and he led a privileged life. Work was nowhere in the picture and when he had to step out in the real world, I thought this is going to be a difficult transition. Well, it was. Amidst the complaints of working for a living and falling flat on his face, he is learning to be a grown up in his own way. Thank God for that!
Daily writing prompt
When was the first time you really felt like a grown up (if ever)?
Almost every family has them and some are wonderful and some we can do without. My family had many traditions and I had to be there whether I wanted to or not!
My parents were religious people and church on Sundays was one of those traditions. I’m not just talking about Sunday service but spending the whole day at church! Yes, it was excruciating for a young girl but I did it simply because it was a must. This is one tradition I don’t keep up with. I’m not going to put my son through it either. It’s his decision altogether and he has chosen to go the other way but I think a little religion doesn’t hurt anyone.
All the other holidays were part and parcel of our upbringing. Christmas was a big deal but I loved it and when I was married, I kept up with the tradition. Presents, lights, Christmas carols and good food were all still a part of tradition but nowadays, it is a quiet affair. No going all out, just some lights, music and a quiet time, so that has changed. Thanksgiving was another big deal. It was a time for family get-togethers, turkey and all the trimmings and lots of food! I’ve changed it to almost nothing. When the friend was there, we would have a semblance of Thanksgiving, just some good food and a quiet time together. Now that he is gone, I’m mostly on my own except for Chachi, the cat.
Traditions have changed but I guess it does when life changes. Time changes things too and circumstances complete the picture. Memories of those traditions I had with my parents still remain, they always will, because they were wonderful times except for the whole day at church bit. I could have done without those.
Daily writing prompt
What traditions have you not kept that your parents had?
It wasn’t all good. Some parts were great and others I could have done without. One of the things we shouldn’t have done was to take our five-year-old with us. That was a major faux pas!
We went to Singapore and later to Penang in Malaysia. Our “little terror” wasn’t used to the hot weather and crowds so he became a seasoned complainer. On one hand, he was really happy about the people. They were overly friendly to him and even offered to buy him from us. We should have taken the offer! He was a cutie but a little rascal to boot.
My ex had never been there before so it was an eye-opener for him. The food was great especially the “Chili Crabs.” It was finger-licking good. The place was clean and green but most of all we loved the food there. Our little guy was learning to swim at the time so his dad had him in the hotel pool every chance he got and the added attraction were the monkeys in the trees surrounding the pool! It was a major distraction. However, he didn’t learn to swim in Singapore. It was in Penang when he finally swam halfway across the pool! That was memorable especially the proud smile he wore on his face.
Malaysia was great as well. However, the traffic was scary. We were in Kuala Lumpur and had to cross a busy road and believe me, it was terrifying. The way to get across was to wait till there was a break in traffic and run across! We managed somehow but it was not my thing. The food was fantastic, the people friendly and it had a laid-back vibe. We stayed with friends and every morning we could see the monkeys making their way through the trees heading to wherever they were going and every evening they would come back the same way.
One of the things we learned during that trip was to stop spoiling the little brat! I remember one incident in Singapore along the East Coast right by the beach when he pulled a temper-tantrum because something didn’t go the way he wanted. His face was bright red, his veins popping out in his neck when he started to scream his head off. My ex and I found a seat and watched as he screamed his a** off! People would walk up to him and try to console him but it only made things worse.
It was a memorable trip but it had both good and bad parts to it for all the reasons I mentioned above.
A friend sent me an article yesterday and it irritated me to no end! I felt my hackles rise but honestly, there was some truth to the article and later, much later, I realized that maybe, just maybe I was one of them.
LET’S DEFINE HELICOPTER PARENTING
“A term for parents who hover over their kids, always ready to swoop in and solve every problem. They’re over-attentive and overly fearful of their child’s experiences and challenges.”
GUILTY! GUILTY! GUILTY!
I was and still am overly-protective of the little guy although he is not so little anymore. Divorce and being a single mom threw my world, my regimented world, into one that could only be described as helter-skelter! Trying to find order where there was none was a big problem. Learning to swim again after being thrown in the deep end of the pool was next to impossible and bring “parenting” into such a situation and you’ve got “helicopter parenting” in the making, in my case anyway. I wanted to protect him from the pain, the anger, the confusion, the despair and a whole host of other emotions that I couldn’t control but I could make it easier with the love I showered on him. Bring fear of the unknown into the picture and I was “warrior mom” ready to go up against anyone who so much as sneezed in his direction! However, it didn’t stop me from teaching him what is right and wrong, to stand up for himself, and to be a good and decent human being.
He has been on his own for the last five or six years, studying and taking care of things on his own. I have been there every step of the way but from a distance! It was HARD but I made it somehow. Last year, he finished up with a better than average grade and I couldn’t have been prouder. Then came the tedious task of looking for a job and never having worked a day in his life made it harder still. He took it all in stride and landed two jobs. The first one paid well but involved travel and lots of stress! He opted for the second one at a five-star hotel. He made his choice and he has been working at the hotel for two months now. Just recently, there was an incident involving a guest high on drugs and in possession of a gun! The old me screamed with fear within but I listened as he talked. It turned out that he handled it like a pro!
Early this morning, the phone rang. It was 1:30 a.m. and I knew it couldn’t be anything good. Sure enough, he said, “I’ve locked myself out of the apartment!” I gulped and the old “helicopter mom” would have asked, “How can I help?’ Instead, I let him talk. He explained he had called the building superintendent and he was on the way. Half an hour later, he was back in his apartment.
“I think that instead of helicoptering our kids, we should be strapping some parachutes on their backs made out of things like common sense, kindness, and courage.
Then we should teach them to jump.” Unknown
And be ready to catch them if the parachute fails!
Honestly, I think I did a good job of raising this young man. Sure, there are things I could have done better but he’s on his way and that is all that matters. Next week, he has his second interview after acing the first one. This could be his forever job. Fingers and toes crossed AND I’m leaving the “helicopter” in the cupboard like the friend asked me too!
First and foremost is a picture of my young son when he was about three years old. He was a cute kid and I was totally hooked on him. I was a first time mom and my world revolved around him. The little guy was cheeky even at that young age.
One day he had just had his bath and was standing on the table naked waiting to be dressed when I got this great idea. I decided to take a picture of him in his birthday suit. He gave me this look and a smile erupted on his face. I grabbed my cell phone and snapped the pic! He giggled and just as I finished, I felt the spray hit my face! When it did, he chuckled and started jumping on the table. It became a game after that with him. Every time I tried to dress him and when I saw that grin come on his face, I knew what was coming and I learned to duck in time! That pic has a special place in my heart because it was one of those times when life was simple and it was all about giggles and chuckles.
The other thing I hold close and still wear around my neck is a heart-shaped diamond pendant. It’s a beautiful piece and it belonged to my mom. I remember her wearing it all the time and it was her special piece of jewelry. I loved it when the sun hit the stones and made them glisten and shine. I inherited it when she met her untimely death. My brother decided that it was one of the pieces I should have. It is a daily companion along with a diamond solitaire pendant that was given to me by the friend I lost a couple of years ago. Both bring back precious memories. They are both gone now but those two pieces of jewelry bring back a time when I felt special and knew that I was loved.
What may seem like trinkets to some may mean a whole different story to someone else.
Someone once said, you are NOT yesterday. True but the stories we tell ourselves, the narratives that we trap ourselves in sometimes tell us that we are. Yesterday does carry some weight because it helps to define who we are today. The memories of yesterday can mold or break us, it can teach us not to do the same things over and over again and more often than not, it gives us the strength to carry on. The truth of the matter is that we cannot rewrite history and we cannot go back and change the outcome of a story that happened and is now done with. Yesterday is just that, it was and is a part of our past and except for the revisits from time to time of well-kept memories, it is nothing more than that. It is a story that is finished, it has taken its final bow or curtain call and so must we by letting it go.
This is what I tell myself on the journey I am on. I can’t keep carrying yesterday on my back or like an albatross around my neck. The load is heavy and it makes me want to stop, turn around and run back to what was familiar even if that familiarity has the power to hurt like hell. The unknown before me is terrifying and anything is better than this right? What’s before is shrouded in fog, it is dark and foreboding and forging through it takes superhuman effort but the small negative voice within me which at times roars like a waterfall tells me that I can’t do it! Take small steps, one step at a time, you don’t have to know everything, just trust and you will get there says this other shaky voice but there are no other options, moving forward is where I need to go.
Sometimes it is the boundaries we place around ourselves that trap us, that tell us that the imaginary world we live in is so much better than what is waiting out there. Sure it was painful but there was greatness too. It was filled with things I knew and cherished, in one word, it is irreplaceable. The stories we tell ourselves are the fences we place around us. Was yesterday that great? Did we embellish it like a Christmas tree to make it sparkle and shine when the reality is a different story? Do the stories we tell ourselves distort reality and yet it is the truth as we see it or is it because we want to see it that way?
Harold R. Johnson said, “We are all story. We are the stories we are told and we are the stories we tell ourselves. To change our circumstances, we need to change our story: edit it, modify it, or completely rewrite it.”
I don’t want to completely rewrite my past. I want to take the good parts with me, the bad parts I want to thank for teaching me lessons I would not have learned otherwise and the pain? Well, I want to leave that behind where it belongs. Enough tears have been shed, enough wishing that it could have been different has not made it less so and closing the door behind me and moving on is the way to go. The next chapter is waiting and yesterday is done with.
“Forget yesterday – it has already forgotten you. Don’t sweat tomorrow – you haven’t even met. Instead, open your eyes and heart to a truly precious gift – today.” Steve Maraboli
Here’s to yesterday. You taught me lessons I didn’t want to learn but had to accept. You gave me memories I will forever treasure. You made me who I am today and for that I will forever be thankful.
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