One move with hired civilian helpers was all I needed to realize how wonderful my many moves while our family was in the military had been.

On one hand, I totally dig Ikea’s hip Euro-vibe and self-serve convenience. But on the other hand, for a person like me, whose home decorating style can best be described as hand-me-down-chic, walking into an Ikea is like crossing the threshold of hell.

Current news, trendy topics and fresh anecdotes aren’t always more interesting, informative or entertaining than stories about things that happened in the past.

Making my health a priority in 2026 won’t happen easily. Online portals must be accessed. Records must be checked. Appointments will be scheduled. Authorizations will be requested. Medical professionals must be consulted. And, after all that, blood pressure will need to be checked.

I finally found the perfect app to fulfill my need for extra entertainment, with a comforting familiarity and just-challenging-enough complexity. Now I have a new problem: addiction.

Our daughter, Lilly, wasn’t going to let her older sister’s crushing revelation ruin Christmas day for herself -- or us.

Unbeknownst to us, our fifth-grader Anna had woken up when she heard a noise one Christmas Eve. Thinking it was Santa making a ruckus, she’d climbed down from her bunk and peeked through the keyhole in the bedroom door, expecting to see the jolly old elf himself. What Anna witnessed would squash her sugar plum visions forever.

As usual, I have no idea what anyone in my family wants, much less myself. I dread the mere thought of Christmas shopping.

Ever since my husband began commuting for work, he’s become accustomed to falling asleep to the sound of audio books. “How am I supposed to fall asleep with all this racket?” I asked when Francis’ new habit surfaced. But he’d only “tsk” and suggest that I get earplugs. Oh, the irony!

My family’s easy-breezy Thanksgiving and delicious meal is brought to you courtesy of my all-day cookathon.