Everyone in this family has an unfortunate Sugarfish habit.

When I was about thirteen, I announced to my family that I was a vegetarian. I'm pretty sure I gave them a song and dance about loving animals, cows are our friends, etc etc, but really: I was mostly just trying to be irritating, because thirteen.

A few weeks ago, my ten-year-old announced that he is a vegetarian, and shan't be consuming meat anymore. "No meat at all?" I inquired.

Me, sick.

One of the first recipes I posted way back in the day was for something I called "Sick Day Soup" - basically just a half-assed semi-homemade chicken noodle soup that I made for Kendrick whenever he was feeling bad. In keeping with most (all?) of the recipes I posted back then, it was full of shortcuts (using store-bought broth, pre-shredded chicken, whatever), and while I continue to think those shortcuts make sense for everyday cooking, sometimes - like when a person you care about is sick - it's nice to level it up and make something really warming and healing and special.

Enter: My new and improved Sick Day Soup. It takes awhile to make, but actually requires very little in the way of effort - most of it's just letting the ingredients cook themselves down on the stovetop while your home fills with wonderful smells. And the results? Are spectacular, and 100% worth the time. (I delivered a big jar of this stuff to my sick friend, and then polished off the rest - literally all of the rest - myself.)

I'll be alone this New Year's Eve, for the first time I can remember. I think for the first time ever, actually. I'm okay with that; I swear - Kendrick has always cared way more about New Year's than I do, and I never want to stay up until midnight anyway, so it just makes sense for the kids to go to his place for the weekend. Besides, even in "normal" years, oh my god do I ever not want to go out on New Year's - just the thought of it makes me want to nap.

But there's another reason I'm not only "okay" with being on my own, but rather actively looking forward to it.

When Kendrick and I divorced, I realized very quickly that I did not know how to be single. I’d moved fairly seamlessly from relationship to relationship my entire adult life (with a year-long foray into casual dating in my mid-twenties that I somehow survived, but probably shouldn’t have), so when my marriage ended I found myself completely at sea, and wanted someone – anyone – to save me. I wasn't sure I knew how to make myself feel better all on my own, because I’d never really had to do it.