This is NOT the Sweet Life
Sweet Friends –
I have to apologize. I’ve recently realized I made a huge mistake.
This is NOT the SWEETLIFE ~
This is NOT the SWEETLIFE.
For years I thought it was. I told others it was. With a great team, we built a business saying it was. We gave out postcards and stickers and framed posters of it for the office wall.
And now I sit here with this crazy realization how mistaken I was.
In a clever twist, it took some seriously SOUR life for me to realize what a SWEETLIFE is. At first it seemed sad but it’s really not at all. It’s quite delicious actually.
Without a doubt, the images above were really SWEET moments in LIFE. We all have really SWEET moments in LIFE. They are golden. They are the fuel to our life fire. They light up Instagram and Facebook and Pinterest like nobody’s business. Capturing, honoring, celebrating, and sometimes sharing these SWEET moments in LIFE is critical.
But still, SWEET moments in LIFE do not mean we are living a SWEETLIFE. A SWEETLIFE cannot be curated through a series of shiny images.
Living a SWEETLIFE is a mindset. A chosen, practiced, and heavily nurtured mindset.
Oh wow, now we’re going deep. Buckle up.
Every moment in life, we get to choose how we will respond. Every. Single. Moment. We choose. I choose. You choose. We choose the words we use with others and perhaps most importantly, we choose the words we use with ourselves.
The choosing — that’s where the sweetness lives. The moments that happen don’t define us but choosing our mindset before, during, and after does.
So when life is all mountain tops and blue skies and accomplishment, we throw our hands up and soak in Mother Nature’s high-five for our awesomeness. Those SWEET moments in LIFE make it really easy to choose a SWEETLIFE mindset.
But what about when life gets SOUR? Like really, way expired carton of milk SOUR.
It was gulping some seriously SOUR moments in LIFE that got me chewing on all of this. It became crystal clear that I had to decide if experiencing SOUR moments in LIFE meant I was living a SOURLIFE.
It was suddenly that straight forward. I could gag and choke and get all whoa-is-me about my stinky SOURLIFE or I could freaking plug my nose, wash down the clumps, and go buy some new damn milk. (Option A was really tempting sometimes.)
Choosing to go buy the new milk, that is the SWEETLIFE. Choosing to seek out SWEET moments in LIFE as they sit ready and waiting all around us all the time, that is the SWEETLIFE. Choosing to celebrate others’ SWEET moments in LIFE with genuine love and happiness, that is the SWEETLIFE.
And here’s a very cool part. The SWEETLIFE is incredibly personal to each of us. It’s my SWEETLIFE, my mindset, my choice to make over and over again. I guide it. I honor it. I nurture it. There’s no way anyone else can SOUR up my LIFE if I keep fighting* to hone and protect my SWEETLIFE. *And in my experience it does require a serious fight because sometimes SOUR moments bring their A-game.
Inevitably life is going to serve us sweet and sour moments. Being grateful for all the SWEET ones is important for sure but learning to be truly grateful for the SOUR ones is too. Those little (& big) suckers offer our SWEETLIFE mindset the chance to shine the most.
There will be more to come on what this shift to my SWEETLIFE mindset may mean in terms of Sweetlife Adventures but for now its pure joy to say there’s definitely more sweetness to be explored. Thank goodness because Sourlife Adventures just doesn’t have the same ring to it.
Sweetly,
Kristi
ps– This year’s holiday cards had a bit of SOURLIFE flare. Glad we didn’t send them out. SOUR eggnog is a total buzzkill.
pps — Happy New Year.
This year’s (unsent) holiday cards. Big stack of them still sitting sourly in the desk drawer.
You Can Help Save Ryan’s Life in 2 Sweet Minutes
Sweet Friends –
You are needed to HELP SAVE RYAN’S LIFE.
Ryan is a 9-year-old boy who has Duchene Muscular Dystrophy (DMD). Until now, it has been considered terminal with no known treatment.
I don’t know Ryan personally, but our bffs (and many favorite friends) go to school with him in Denver. The community is rallying to share Ryan’s story and ask for your help.
There are two medications that have been effective in treating DMD when used during clinical trials. Ryan was in one of these trials and saw sweet improvement.
The medications are awaiting FDA approval. Ryan has had to be off the medications until they are approved. He is quickly seeing the decline.
There are drugs that Ryan and his family know will help but he can’t have them without the FDA approval.
It’s like a 9-year-old version of the Dallas Buyer’s Club.
YOU CAN HELP!
There is an online petition that needs 100,000 signatures to get the FDA’s attention for accelerated approval of safe, effective, therapies for Ryan and thousands of others suffering from DMD.
CLICK HERE TO SIGN THE PETITION NOW
It takes 2 minutes to create an account (requires name and email only). I was the 9,550 person to sign. They need 100,o00 by March 29, 2014 for the FDA to respond.
Following is the full email from Ryan’s dad, mom, and brothers:
Hi Everybody,
I would like to apologize in advance for the mass email blast. I know how much every body hates this sort of thing, but this is very important. I need 2 minutes of your time. If you don’t want to read this than just follow the link and sign the petition.
Most of you know my son Ryan. Ryan is 9 years old, a 3rd grader and has Duchene Muscular Dystrophy. DMD is a terminal disease that, until now, has had no treatment and no hope for long-term survival. Kids with DMD start to get weaker in elementary school and are often confined to an electric wheelchair by middle school. It does not get any better. The body becomes progressively weaker and the boys lose the use of their upper extremities, followed by weakness and loss of function of their lungs and heart.
There are two medicines that are awaiting approval by the FDA that can treat DMD. We know this because Ryan was part of a group of boys that were in a study last year to test the effectiveness and safety of this medicine. In the six months that Ryan was taking one of these drugs we saw marked improvements in his strength, stamina and health overall. He has been off the medicine since September and we can see him starting to slide down the slippery slope of DMD that ends in death.
This is where you come in. Ryan needs you to sign an on line petition to urge the FDA to approve the re-dosing of this drug immediately. We need 100,000 signatures. That is a lot. I don’t know that many people and I doubt that any of you do, but like that shampoo commercial if I tell two friends and they tell two friends and so on and so on. We can reach 100,000 pretty quickly.
They got way more than 100,00 people to sign a petition to get Beiber sent back to Canada in a matter of days and this is so much more important.
So, Here is the link:
please click it or cut and paste and follow the instructions and then bug your friends and their friends to sign this petition, share it on Facebook, Twitter or wherever you want. Copy any or all of the text. Please don’t put this off till later we need 100,000 signatures by the end of March.
Thanks,
Chris, Jen, Conor, Jack, and Ryan Dunne
We have an almost 9-year-old. Many of you do to0. In fact, while I was writing this post, Briggs came down to show me his outfit for his school play next week. I started crying as I took this picture.
I hope you have two minutes to spare tonight. Your sweetness will make a difference – for Ryan, his family, and so many others fighting a similar battle.
Sweetly,
kristi
The sweet innocence of (almost) nine.
Nothing Sweet Comes From Eating A Box of Samoa Cookies
Ok technically not an entire box, but close.
Last Saturday morning, still half asleep, my mind inventoried the previous day’s activities. I put a little joke about it on Facebook ~
FACT: There are 15 Samoas in one box.
Later in the day, moving kinda sloooow, I went to Target to pick up some kids clothes I had ordered online with in-store pick-up (so I could get a 20% discount). The confirmation email said my things would be waiting at customer service.
44 minutes, 17 frustrated people, and countless eyerolls later, I was engaging my ujjayi breath as I exited the store.
Sparing you the details, the situation boiled down to a mix-up due to the online ordering/store pick-up option and applying the 20% discount.
It was all over $4.
Through the 20/20 lens of hindsight, it’s easy to see how the exchange flowed and why.
I wasn’t about to let a $4 miscalculation go. It’s a lot of money and it was mine! Although, if I think about, in my 1,000+ Target shopping trips, odds are pretty good that a few items have accidentally slipped through checkout uncharged for one reason or another. My guess is the teeter is still tottering in my favor on that equation.
Simultaneously, the young woman in the red shirt wasn’t about to be told she was wrong. I’m making some assumptions, but I can imagine when she debuted her large facial piercing in her cheek, she may have been told she was wrong by one or two people. My guess from her general aura of toughness is that she may have been unfairly (perhaps even heartbreakingly) told she was wrong from a very young age.
I wanted my money. She wanted to be right. In the end we created a situation that was both poor and wrong.
I got to thinking about the box of Samoa cookies I had eaten the night before – you know, for “dinner”.
It had cost $4.
I sure wasn’t engaging in any fights over that $4. (Other than fighting off the kids when they tried to eat one. Hudson actually did get a hold of 3 which is how I ended up only eating 12/15 in the box. Damn her.)
Not to mention, I wasn’t feeling my best – physically or emotionally – after the night of cookies and wine. Like I wrote about recently in terms of choosing kindness, my kindness muscle was totally atrophied.
The young Target Teammember may not even remember the incident, but its been bugging the heck out of me. I mean really – how much of the universe’s energy is $4 worth?
Maybe I’ll take her a peace offering next time I go. There’s an unopened box of Thin Mints hidden in the cabinet…
A Sweet Introduction: Alison Mikula
When sweet stars align, let them shine!
Alison will head all Colorado adventures.
It is so exciting to introduce Alison Mikula who will be heading our Colorado adventures. She brings tremendous expertise and enthusiasm to the team and a love for exploring how to live that sweetly balanced life we’re all seeking.
Alison joins Sweetlife after nearly a decade of practicing law, and is excited to be part of the team creating opportunities for busy women to play and grow through adventures that are physical, soulful, and fun!
With the support of her partner, Paul, Alison enjoys the adventure of family life with their four children. Each brings endless sweetness to her life and together they keep her days full and sometimes frenzied!
As a working mom, Alison has come to appreciate the importance — and the challenge — of making time for herself. She finds that the sweetness and energy she generates while on her yoga mat, climbing a tough hill on her road bike, or hiking in the Colorado sunshine sustain her and help her to bring forth her best as mom, partner, community member and friend.
Her favorite part of Sweetlife? Helping other women live life in their own personal sweet spots.
Alison can be reached at alison@sweetlifeadventures.com.
The Sweetness of Doing the Most Perfect Thing Ever
Wednesday night I was vacuuming up the gazillion bits of a dog treat that Stan had shredded all over the family room floor.
Perhaps my frustration with the mess was the spark that ignited it, but I could suddenly feel my eyes welling up. When Ned walked in and asked if I was ok, the tears started spilling out. The vacuum was still sucking away and I stood there sobbing. About nothing. About everything.
Without a word, he gently wrapped his arms around me and held me while I cried into his shirt.
I felt so sweetly comforted.
And then he did the most perfect thing ever.
Still snugging me just-right tight, he placed the sweetest, kindest kiss on my forehead.
I felt so sweetly safe.
It was exactly what I needed right then.
All the words, reassurances, and what’s-the-matters were spoken in that forehead kiss.
Like most, Ned & I have a healthy amount of sweet and sour moments. I’m sure there are times he’d really like to thump me on the forehead. Sometimes kinda hard.
But in that moment, with me standing there blubbering for no specific reason, he chose the simplest of gestures.
He chose kindness.
That sweet kiss on the forehead reminded me of the healing power of kindness. It may not make your battle go away, but it definitely gives you the strength you need to keep fighting.
We all want to choose kindness, don’t we?
For me, like many, kindness comes naturally when my personal strength bucket is full. But it’s when I’m not feeling good about myself for some reason that my kindness muscle can get lazy.
The obvious twist is that each route feeds itself: being kind makes us feel good so we are even kinder and being an a-hole makes us feel bad so we’re a bigger a-hole. I experienced this firsthand the day I realized there’s Nothing Sweet About Driving Like an A-Hole, although…let’s just say that’s still a work in progress.
We need to choose kindness every chance we get, don’t we?
Back to Wednesday night – Ned was being pulled in so many directions. He was swamped with work. And fighting a major cold. And Nanny McPhee Raleigh desperately needed him to pull her tooth.
Nanny McPhee called. She wants her snaggletooth back.
But he chose kindness.
Although it didn’t magically dry up my tears, it definitely gave me a big dose of sweet strength to better understand what was going on and explore options for making things better.
It also gave me (a little extra) strength to deal with more of this –
Ruh roh.
I wonder when Stanley will understand the vicious cycle of being an a-hole?
Let’s choose kindness. The cycle starts with each one of us, in big and small ways, in all aspects of our lives.
If your kindness muscle gets lazy, as it may, as I know mine will, there are always forehead kisses.
Sweetly,
kristi
Why Do We High Five Strangers?
*With Bronco Fever running rampant this week, I thought I would pull some sweet talk from the archives (originally posted 12/16/11). From 2,000 miles away, we are still #UnitedinOrange. There will be many high fives on Sunday. Go Broncos!
At our son’s hockey game last weekend, I watched rink side. With Ned helping coach and the girls sleeping at Grandma’s, I was (happily) alone.
As the first big play went down, I heard my cheers echoing off the glass. Without realizing it, I quickly turned to the folks around me, hungry to share my excitement with other fans.
My response caught my attention.
Given that our little hockey players couldn’t even hear us from the other side of the glass, why did I have an overwhelming need to clap and yell and high five the strangers next to me? Why did this collective cheering feel so great…?
As I thought about it, I realized sharing an experience is what connects us – to the experience and to each other.
It’s the camaraderie and community of a synchronous “GOOOOAAAAALLLL” for which we as a species have an affinity.
We don’t just want it. We need it. We thrive in it. And yes, we high five in it.
Whether on the dance floor celebrating the birthday girl, in the audience when the school choir asks us to join in, or huddling around the goalie at the end of the game, it’s these shared experiences that nourish the human spirit.
Sing together in the car. Chat in line with strangers at Target. Play cards until midnight with Grandpa.
These metaphoric high fives are the gifts that keep on giving.
Can it be Sweet to Carpe (Laundry) Diem?
Last weekend the kids needed to be in different places at the same time. We decided Ned would take Briggs (& Raleigh) to Briggs’ three day hockey tournament and I would stay home with Hudson (& Stanley) for Hudson’s swim meet.
It was such a sweet treat to have Hudson all to myself.
For the two days of the meet I relished every second of watching her swim, eating out together, renting movies (Beaches – insert sob), and chatting about everything and nothing.
Sweet Hudson is an old soul – so wise, calm, and kind. (Just between us, she’s my favorite. Thankfully Briggs & Raleigh can’t read. Oh wait, yes they can. Crap… )
The hockey tourney ran through Monday night but the swim meet ended Sunday afternoon. This meant there were a few options:
1. Drive 2+ hours to hockey after swim meet to catch last 3 games
2. Enjoy a sweet local adventure with Hudson – hike? museum?
3. Stay home and catch up on some (not-pressing-but-eventually-must-be-done) chores
Given that options 1 & 2 had obvious appeal and that while browsing for a movie Saturday night we watched the trailer for Dead Poet’s Society so I had Robin Williams carpe diem-ing in my head, this is the part where I might launch into the profound and picturesque way we seized the heck out of the day.
Maybe it would look like this –
Or possibly this –
But no.
When I sat still and tuned into to the (usually crazy) voice in my head, I heard the answer in a soft but clear whisper.
Carpe (laundry) diem.
Wait, what?
Carpe (laundry) diem.
“Seize the laundry day?”
Yeeesssss.
Uh, ok…not exactly what I was expecting. No frozen glory or heart-pumping adventure. No soul food or mom/daughter bonding or pretty photo fodder.
Bleh. It was going to look about like this –
Crap…
I’m not sure why, but somehow as soon as all the shiny options were off the table, the weekend fell sweetly into place. There was a calm, maybe even a little giddy, excitement about it.
Hudson was thrilled maturely composed with the decision.
All darn DIEM we CARPE’ed the heck out of that everlasting (gobstopper) pile of laundry and many other lurking chores. It felt so good.
I was reminded that playing hard requires working hard.
And this was a day to work hard. A day to work together with Hudson so that we were washed, piled, and prepped for the (always) full week ahead of us. A day to soak in the sweetness of organizing our life.
This (rather boring) tale is a complete 180 from the moral of the Sweet Freak Out last spring. There’s no real enlightened reason why. Robert Frost never wrote “Two roads diverged in a wood and I – I chose the one with the long to-do list.”
I guess it just comes down to our perspective at a given time:
The bonus was sweet Hudson found a great way for us to CARPE 10 MINUTES OF FUN every now and then. Each time we checked an item off the list, we jumped on the tramp together.
How do you balance work & play? Do you have a hard time knowing when to carpe diem and when to be disciplined? Share your sweet thoughts, tips, & tricks below.
3 Ways to Slide Sweetly into 2014
The other day the kids and I stumbled upon an outdoor ice skating rink. Not real ice but the faux plastic stuff. The kids begged to go so we paid our $5 donation for skate rental and geared up. Since our puppy Stanley was with us, I didn’t skate. I found a nice bench where I could watch and Stanley could terrorize innocent children sit obediently at my feet.
It was fascinating to watch the kids’ approach to (faux) ice skating.
They stood strong and ready to start…
We’re gonna rock this rink.
Hudson, ever sweet and cautious, gently walk-skated her way around, making sure she did everything “right.”
Raleigh, having never skated before without one of us holding her up, jumped on the ice like Dorothy Hamill and was pretty much doing double axels within minutes.
Briggs, our seasoned HOCKEY player, looked just like Bambi on his birthday with limbs flailing and eyes wide open while he repeatedly bit the (faux ice) dust.
This shot caught the three approaches in action.
3 kids with 3 very different approaches.
A couple more that really captured the moment.
Ready to wedge cut her hair and prep her 2022 Olympic routine.
Again. And again. And again…
Noting that Briggs is a fairly experienced (real) ice skater, it was fascinating to watch his continual crash and burn. He stayed enthusiastic, but 20+ times he attempted to implement his tried and true approach to (real) ice skating and 20+ times he ate poo. It took him a (really really) long time to figure out that (faux) ice skating and (real) ice skating are similar in name only.
I pictured Tony Robbins with his big perfect smile, gently shaking his head saying:
Briggs ultimately adjusted his technique and sort of figured out how to (faux) ice skate. He left filthy, bruised, and ego-checked.
Although I’m not a committed New Years Resolution-er, this is the natural time of year to focus on the coming 365 days. As my brain inventories the swirls of thoughts, dreams, hopes, & goals, I find myself reflecting back on the kids on the ice.
Where in my life do I “walk-skate” through things? Where am I appropriately cautious, slow and steady, and successfully completing the task at hand?
Where do I glide through with ease because I have limited experience and no expectations? Where is it best to jump first, think second? What comes easy? And if it is easy, do I know the difference between easy meaning I-could-push-myself-harder and easy meaning enjoy-the-ease-of-this-and-double-axel-and-dance-and-smile-and-be-ignorantly-blissfully-happy.
Where do I keep doing the EXACT same thing getting the EXACT same result? Where am I living Einstein’s definition of insanity by “doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results” versus where is my consistent approach working for me? Getting up early to workout – yes absolutely! Arriving 10 minutes late for EVERYTHING because I always fit in “one more thing” before we leave – not so much.
Thinking about the fresh year in these terms is giving me a lot to chew on. Perhaps you will find these prompts helpful or maybe you have some of your own that gear you up for the next 365 days (if so, please share!!).
2014 is sure to be a year full of many (faux) ice and (real) ice adventures. May you slide into it sweetly!
P.S. I guess Raleigh comes by her Dorothy Hamill talents naturally. At least from the ears up.
Rocking the official Dorothy Hamill lid, circa 1979.
Sock It To Me Sweetly
22: socks officially missing right now
15: weeks since our cross country move
10: seconds it will take to toss the whole pile
66: dollars required to buy replacements (avg 3$/pair?)
1,000: hours I will spend wondering where the fargo they went
The singles scene.
Moving was a time of deep cleansing and purging. I am 84% confident we only moved socks in pairs, so essentially we hit a reset button in August. Barring an insatiably hungry dryer with a penchant for socks only worn on the left foot, how is it possible our family is losing an average of 1.5 socks per week?
This stash of loners has been sitting ominously in our room for days. At first the hope was getting through a complete round of laundry would sift out their missing mates, but that ship sailed (twice) and the pile is still staring me down.
The obvious areas have been scoured and I briefly considered Stanley since he has the highly suspect combination of mischievousness and a love of housekeeping:
No sign of a 22 sock blockage…
Clearly we all have enough socks to go the 2+ weeks these lone rangers have been taunting me, so what am I waiting for?
As I churned on it a bit, I realized I haven’t called off the search yet for three reasons:
1. I’m cheap
2. I’m waiting for the RUSH I will feel when I find them
3. I’m troubled by unexplained phenomenons
In response to Reason #1, I did some research and found an entire world of suggestions:
For the crafty: WTF Is a Mommy To Do With All These Single Socks
For the resourceful: 40 Things to Do With Your Old Socks
For the entrepreneurial minded: How Old Socks Led One Woman to a Million Dollar Business
While I like to think I’m a little of all three, the reality is none of these are going to happen any time soon. Perhaps I can stash the socks for dusting but most likely I will forget, dust with a kitchen towel, and a year from now the socks will still be sitting there. Funny thing is, I will probably think I found the “missing” socks and get the rush referenced in Reason #2.
Speaking of…Reason #2 — rush smush. I’ll grab some scratch lottery tickets at 7/11 to get a rush. In college I won $100 on a single ticket bought while filling up my well-loved Mazda affectionately known as the Sharkcruiser. The rush of that day made me forever a scratch ticket fan.
It’s Reason #3 that’s the deal breaker. My curious obsessive nature just can’t let go of the “where the fargo did they go” part. Like picking my dry cuticles and drinking too much coffee, I realize I habitually obsess over unexplained situations. I like answers and closure and resolution. And if I can’t get them, I (often subconsciously) hit replay on the details until I’ve clogged up my mind and driven myself nuts.
The soulful Danielle LaPorte recently wrote about the practice of leaving open space in our psyche, allowing room for the things we want, the things that matter, to enter. Read the complete nugget of poetic wisdom here. (*Thanks for sharing P!)
So back to the friggin’ socks…they’re outta here. Like the cookies out the Sharkcruiser window following a particularly colorful college night, I’m TOSSING them. It may be a small step, but that’s what big growth is made of, right?
The good news is that summer will be here before we know it and we can all wear flip flops.
Have you checked your dresser lately? What socks do you need to toss?
The Sweet Adventure of Life
Definition of UNEXPECTED:
“not regarded as likely to happen“
Life is full of unexpected stuff.
Whether it’s running into your old boyfriend in line for a pony ride (for his kids, not for him, because that would be creepy & I’m talking about unexpected, not creepy, even though it’s Halloween…) or learning that the red bumps assumed to be infected mosquito bites were actually fly larvae building a love nest (unexpected & creepy & unfortunately true but I’ll spare you the details), unexpected stuff happens.
What I am (slowly) figuring out is the way we choose to view an unexpected event is what defines the effect of the event on our life. This applies to all events equally – when it’s silly (like pony ride run-ins and fly eggs) and when the poo gets real.
Over the last couple of years a light bulb has been turning on (dimly perhaps) as I realize that the adventures we seek for fun are really just awesome training opportunities for the twists and turns of life. Training for the unexpected.
Here’s what I mean —
Definition of ADVENTURE:
“participation in hazardous or exciting experiences”
When we participate in something, isn’t it the allure of the unexpected elements that make it an adventure? The thrill of not knowing if it will be hazardous or exciting? Going to haunted houses, trying new foods, travelling, or even shopping at TJ Maxx – we are propelled by the curiosity of “what will happen?”.
We go into an adventure expecting the unexpected. We are ready to buckle up and enjoy the ride of the unknown becoming known. Regardless of outcome, the experience nourishes us with knowledge, strength, and confidence (and maybe even the perfect shirt for $14.99, regularly $49.99).
Wouldn’t it be sweet if we could choose to see everything in life as an adventure? From important to trivial, relationships to a Target shopping trip during the holidays, approaching something as an adventure allows us to naturally shift to expecting the unexpected and be energized by harnessing our fear of the unknown. The beauty is you don’t win or lose on an adventure. You explore. You listen to your instincts. You rely on the resources around you. You push. You evolve with each step a bit closer to the best possible version of yourself.
Life is really just a string of adventures, isn’t it?
A few months ago an incredibly unexpected opportunity presented itself, giving my adventure approach a meaty chance to test its wings. It was a scary proposition, but the details were intriguing and our guts screamed “go for it” (even with all the heartache, sniff sniff). So we chose to buckle up, settle into a deep acceptance of the unknown, and set off for a new adventure.
It looked something like this –
Honoring a decade of sweet memories.
Packing kids. *Look closely.
Loading our life.
Soaking in friendships and the Mile High sun.
Heading east.
Seeing red in Nebraska.
Cherishing QT in Iowa.
Loving special friends in the Windy City. xoxo
Making emergency stops in Indiana.
Embracing the surreal.
Seeking inspiration.
Exploring the neighborhood.
The adventure has definitely lived up to the definition – rich with hazard (mostly emotional) and excitement for our new (sorta) normal and new (sorta) neighbors in the big White House.
Through all of this transition, much action has been taking place behind the scenes exploring what this means for Sweetlife Adventures. Continuing adventures in Colorado while expanding on the East Coast is the plan. The sweet model for how this will look is taking shape thanks to a great team of Adventure Hosts and committed partners. *If you’re interested in learning more about hosting an adventure, click here to contact me and we’ll chat.
The 2014 Adventures will be shared soon but in the meantime, you will hear from me now and then – random adventure ideas, sweet nothings pondering the meaning of life, or tales from the wilds of the Boston/DC area (I’m East Coast geographically challenged). I’ll also be asking to hear from you with your sweet thoughts on what types of adventures interest you, what makes your life sweet, and more.
Special note – wild rides are great but they aren’t for everyone – as Raleigh will attest after we took her on her first roller coaster this summer. Oops.
Before shot. The After shot wasn’t pretty.
I completely understand if you don’t want to hear about our wild ride. Please unsubscribe if you find this babble less than sweet. After completing a massive purge during the move, I have a restored commitment to unsubscribing from things that don’t add value – physical, emotional, and electronic.
Here’s to continued adventures – expected and unexpected.
Sweetly,
kristi
SweetTalk 