The Girlfriends' Guide to Forty

Yes readers, something magical happened. I am now a real grandma. Real as in, not your stereotypical granny that has coke-bottle glasses, grey hair, shrinks, and wears their hair in a bun. I am a real grandma, as in, their father and I had children at the ripe ol' age of 21 (yeah, I missed the alcohol phase of that age) and my daughter in turn had her first baby at 22 which makes me... 40 something. You can do the math if you feel inclined. But truth, if I could describe perfection, that would be my grandson. He was 10 pounds and eats like a linebacker. He is already long and going to be super tall and his face... holy molly, he has the cutest little angelic face I think I have ever seen. I am positive I cried several times while holding him and he may already think I am nuts, but he indeed is perfect. He is wicked smart, too. I am not joking. If you ask him a question, he will answer you with a yes or no head nod. I can also read his mind. "Oh, you want gr

A couple of years ago when I started my Instgram account I typed in the word, "yoga" and the person who popped up was Rachel Brathen, aka Yoga_Girl. Of course the first thing I noticed were all the amazing pictures of her doing yoga in Aruba with deep blue skies, clear blue water, and that incredible white sandy beach.   I can assume that I am not the only human who day dreams any chance they can get of experiencing a life outside of their own, even if simply visually escaping for a swipe or two.   I clicked follow.  Then something interesting happened.  I started to like her.  I liked her views, her methodologies regarding yoga and the practice of.  I liked that she seemed down to earth and genuine.  Plus she said the word fuck . Like, a lot.  It was her boldness and her ability to say what she wanted to say - say it - then accept and deal with the consequences - that sold me on the idea that I wanted to go to Aruba and practice at Island Yoga