Dirt is a Four Letter Word

My house is dirtier now than its ever been in the seven and a half years that I’ve lived here.

When Carson was a baby I remember my mom making a comment about that—Just you wait Sarah, some day your standard of what clean is won’t be so high. I kind of scoffed when she mentioned it. And you’ve got to understand, I really value clean and I really value tidy. I think my parents and siblings struggled to live with me because of that. We didn’t necessarily see eye-to-eye on this topic. I felt like life could only enjoyed if there was order—if my house is a wreck, my heart is a wreck too.

Growing up, it seemed like everyone else took a more whimsical approach to the term ship-shape.

We are in the midst of construction, finishing out our walkout basement. Our two bedroom home is about to double in size! I am eager for the space. I love our house, but we have been near bursting at the seams. And every winter I feel it more and more as the kids grow and our house does not.

I am sitting here trying to ignore the dust as much as one can ignore the dust, when it is that film of dust that causes sneezing and an itchy nose. I’m ignoring it because just yesterday I sort of cleaned. And the day before that too. And, honestly, the day before that too.

Yes, my mom was right. My standards are slipping.

It’ll be worth it in the end, I repeat to myself again and again and again.


Pinterest has been a dear friend during this project. I am looking at these photos for inspiration: the boys room, the bathroom, and the living area / school room. I want the basement to feel warm and welcoming, but also bright and clean. And yes, both are possible together, I am sure of it.

I am not much of a movie watcher, especially not in theater. But I recently saw Harriet and Little Women on the big screen, and let me tell you, I want to watch them both again when they come out. If you need a good movie, they’re solid choices.

There are thousands of good books out there waiting to be read. I try to always have at least one title I’m working my way through. Atomic Habits was very good—with lots of principals I want to try applying to the way I run my business and order my life. Next time I’ll have a highlighter in hand and take some notes. But as much as I love business books, I love fiction a little more. I read Where the Crawdads Sing nearly a year ago, but I borrowed it from the library again, because next week we are heading north for our annual winter vacation, and while we are hunkered down in our AirBnB I want to get lost in its pages all over again.

My friend Lara sent me this podcast recommendation: Fight Hustle, End Hurry. She wanted to hear my thoughts on it once I listened to the series. To be honest, I wanted to binge listen after I finished the first episode, but what’s the hurry? why hustle my way through? (Laughing at my own joke here...)

In February I am challenging myself to get dressed and do my makeup every weekday. I’ve been in a top knot and yoga pants rut. My days are spent at home with my kids and I’ve become lazy—it often doesn’t feel worth the effort it takes to get ready for the day if I am not going anywhere. But I know I feel better about myself if I take time to look presentable, hence the challenge. If you want to join in, visit www.instagram.com/saraheshwellness. There are prizes involved!

I weaned my baby last month. It was kind of bittersweet. I wasn’t fully ready for this, I nursed my other two until they were both at least two years old. But we were traveling without the kids, and it made sense to do it before the trip. For the first time in a long time, I am able to get dressed without thinking through outfit logistics. It’s so fun to be able to wear dresses or tops without considering whether they’re nursing friendly. I absolutely love the brand ABLE. I have a referral code that I shared around Christmastime. It gave the buyer a discount on their purchase, and I got rewarded for referring them. I was able to get this dress with the referral credit, and let me tell you, I AM IN LOVE! The knit material is thick, it doesn’t show every bump and bulge, and the dress is modest without being prudish. It’s not at all frilly, which is Brooklyn’s preference, but she gave the dress a raving review when she saw it on me. And let me be clear: If she hated it, she would surely let me know. (Want to shop ABLE? Use this link to save $$$)

Okay, enough chatting for one day!



My Armpits are Sweaty

You know how so many people will ask a question on Facebook and say, “Cute photo for attention” because it really has nothing to do with the post, but they still want to spark conversation. Well, this is a photo for attention.
I don’t smoke but I am about to ask you a question. 

I’ve missed this space. I miss the late-nighters when inspiration is flowing and I don’t have to work hard to string words into sentences. I miss the clarity that writing brings to my mind. This space was my favorite hobby for so long, and I’m sorry I abandoned it. But I’ve also craved privacy, especially last year, when it felt like I was very misunderstood by friends and strangers alike on topics I’ve been so passionate about.

Do you ever feel like that?

Sometimes I wish I could jump back in where I left off—back when life felt easier—biking around the lake with Carson in tow, running races, and checking things off my 23 before 24 list. I think I was pretty oblivious to life outside my every day moments, which was likely both a blessing and a curse.

Sometimes I wish I could jump back in and share everything currently on my mind with all the honesty and bluntness of an Ennegram 8. (A personality type I am not, but sort of wish I were.)
Now I need to work hard to notice the little every day moments, because too often I miss them, I’ve been so distracted with what is happening politically in New York and across the nation.

I voted last year for the first time in my life.

I’m sort of embarrassed to admit that truth. I never really saw the importance of voting—when typically the leading candidates are all horrible options—until medical freedom was at stake, and then stripped away.

Did I tell you I’m a homeschooling mom? I swore I’d never been one, but last year I wasn’t given a choice.

I love to read.

One of my favorite topics: World War 2. Fiction, memoirs, biographies, I’ll devour them all. One of my dearest friends survived war-torn Germany. She is my hero, proof that hard times don’t have to turn you bitter, and she is also the reason I’m so keen on learning all I can about the era.

I read a fiction book last week, Cilka’s Journey by Heather Morris. I couldn’t put it down, and when I finished the last page, I began to google information about the real Cilka and the labor camp she spent years of her life at, after already surviving Auschwitz, which was an actual hell on earth.

Books like this give me a warped sense of security. History repeats itself. Cilka survived; I will survive.

Have you ever read the about Germany right before the war? Do you know what was taught in schools and heavily pushed and promoted?

Sexual promiscuity was encourage. (Have you seen the bills on Sex Ed in NYS right now? If you aren’t already talking to your kindergartener about sex, you might want to start — or the school might beat you to it. Hint: The language in this bill is mild, but what your third grader is going to be learning if this bill passes is not mild.)

Lying to your parents or family was encouraged for the sake of loyalty to your country and for the “common good”. (Have you read the articles on how to hide your medical history from your parents? You can get anything from an HPV vaccine or birth control or an abortion without them ever knowing—and there are lots of articles online on just how to do it.)

Propaganda was rampant about Jews spreading infectious diseases like typhus, even if they didn’t have it. (Have you seen what is happening in NYS right now? Doctors offices and schools and daycare centers are kicking families out if they choose not to vaccinate. And sites like Parent.com spreading propaganda, with articles saying you shouldn’t allow your child to be with a non vaccinated child because, you know, they are spreading measles, even when they don’t have it.)

In concentration camps they forced medical procedures on the inmates and used them as safety trials for new medications. (Have you seen what happened in CA and NY? Are you paying attention? You don’t have much say in whether you choose to vaccinate or not. And have you seen the long term safety studies on those forced vaccinations? No? Let me tell you why: It’s because YOU are a part of the safety trial.)

Censorship was everywhere. (Search #vaccineinjured on Instagram or Facebook. We are being heavily censored too.)

There is nothing new under the sun.

I’ve had people ask me why I care so much about this topic. I really want to ask the reverse. No matter your stance on vaccines, if you aren’t paying attention and speaking out about these mandates, why? How much of your freedom are you willing to give up? I heard a politician say he thinks the government should have a say in family planning for American families to help curb over-population. If the government can take over this aspect of our lives, forcing a liability-free biologic on our children, I don’t doubt for a second they’d try to control the amount of children we have too. Would you speak up then?

I used to wonder how things like slavery or the Holocaust happened? Why didn’t people take a stand? I see now though, that it happened because of indifference—something I’ve been guilty of—because people saw injustice but weren’t directly impacted by it, so they didn’t act on it.

[NOTE ADDED FOR CLARITY: A reader reached out to me, uncomfortable by my comparison of the horrors of slavery, the holocaust, and segregation with medical mandates like vaccines, because one is based on something you cannot control, like race or skin color, and the other is based on something you choose to opt out of, like vaccinations. I really value her input, which is why I am adding this clarification. I am not here trying to make these appear “equal”. My point is this—all of these things were/are unjust. Harriet Tubman could have lived a quiet life as a free woman when she escaped slavery, but she saw an injustice and said ENOUGH. Corrie ten Boom could have ignored what was happening to her Jewish neighbors, but she saw an injustice and said ENOUGH. Rosa Parks could have given up her rightful seat so as not to cause a stir, but she saw the injustice of the situation and said ENOUGH. These women all stepped out of line, breaking the law in order to bring justice. Yes, I have the “choice” to opt out of a mandate because I am able to homeschool, but a lot of families in New York State don’t have that option. It is more expensive than public school, and it is a big time commitment, that isn’t easy, especially for a single parent or family where both parents work full time. There are special needs children though, one in my neighborhood, who had valid medical exemptions, but this year were kicked out of school too. They had horrible reactions from vaccinations in the past, yet they can’t attend school unless they are willing to risk another reaction (which could mean death). Tell me, what kind of “choice” is that? I am not comparing one horror to another, I am saying STEP THE HELL OUT OF LINE! Both healthy and immunocompromised kids are being kicked out of school, private Amish schools are being forced to close down because of “public health” even though they aren’t open to the public, and there is talk of detention centers and a non-vaccinated registry—yellow star of sorts—so that people can avoid (or bully and shame) anyone not complying.]

A new kind of segregation is back in school; 26,000 children are not legally allowed to attend any school, public or private, across the state.

Truth will always prevail—but it’ll show itself sooner if people would speak up immediately when things are out of sort.

Step out of line.

I am fighting. Are you?

“First they came for the socialists, and I did not speak out—because I was not a socialist.
Then they came for the trade unionists, and I did not speak out— because I was not a trade unionist.
Then they came for the Jews, and I did not speak out—because I was not a Jew.
Then they came for me—and there was no one left to speak for me.”

(This quickly turned from a brief update to a mind-dump. This is the refined version of what has been playing in my head ever since June 13th, 2019, the day dishonest legislators bribed a vote, and my life turned upside down. The real, unedited version is very crude — because I cuss a little (actually, a lot) and I call people out for being two-face. But I not an Ennegram 8; I care too much about what people think of me to share the real, real. It’s a good thing I have a natural deodorant that works. Even sharing this is causing my armpits to sweat.)