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Courtesy of Dean Karnazes
For decades, scientists have tried to understand what separates people capable of extraordinary endurance from everyone else. Is it genetics? VO₂ max? Pain tolerance? Mental toughness?
Dean Karnazes has spent more than 30 years giving them a remarkable case study.
He's run 50 marathons in 50 states in 50 consecutive days, crossed Death Valley in the middle of summer, and in 2005 set the record for the longest nonstop run — covering 350 miles in 80 hours and 44 minutes.
Even that wasn't enough.
"I actually made it 350 miles, which was somewhat of a letdown because I thought maybe I could run 500 miles," Karnazes told me. "That was kind of the ultimate goal." His world record still stands today, 21 years later.
After decades of ultrarunning, Karnazes says he's learned that doing hard things comes down to a handful of simple habits that anyone can practice.
Courtesy of Dean Karnazes
Karnazes has finished on the podium plenty of times, but he says that's never been what pulled him to the starting line.
"I do it for the adventure," he said. "Both the inner and the outer adventure. I've never really said I want to win a race. I just thought, be the best Dean that Dean can be on race day."
He says approaching races that way has changed how he defines success. The podium, if it comes, is just the cherry on top.
That mindset, he says, has kept him motivated through hundreds of marathons and ultramarathons, long after chasing trophies stopped being interesting.
Courtesy of Dean Karnazes
When Karnazes gives advice to new ultrarunners, he doesn't start with mileage or pace.
"Just set your goal on finishing," he said. "Don't say I want to do it in sub five hours or sub six hours. Just say, 'For me, success is reaching the finish line before the cutoff.'"
Karnazes says that approach has a way of changing how you see your own limits.
"You'll prove to yourself that you're better than you think you are. And you can go further than you think you could."
Courtesy of Dean Karnazes
The advice sounds simple, but following it is another story.
At some point during his 350-mile run, Karnazes stopped trusting what he was seeing.
After nearly three days without sleep, he said he started hallucinating. He felt as though he had left his own body and was watching himself from above.
"When you're in these altered states, it's as though you don't have conscious control of your mind," he said. "You're fighting your mind to stay present, but your mind gets away from you."
Despite that, he kept running.
I asked Karnazes for his advice to aspiring ultrarunners who worry they'll hit a point where the pain becomes too much.
"You walk if you have to," he said. "You slow down, you push through the pain, and you come out the other side, and you're rejuvenated."
The decision, announced on Monday, 19th October, completes the Council’s approval of the sixth revision of the EU’s Carcinogens, Mutagens and Reprotoxic Substances Directive. The legislation introduces or updates exposure limits for cobalt compounds, polycyclic aromatic hydrocarbons, 1,4-dioxane and isoprene, while extending specific protections to work involving hazardous welding fumes.
According to the Council’s announcement, the measures could prevent approximately 1,700 cases of lung cancer and 19,000 other work-related illnesses across the European Union over 40 years.
The legislation addresses chemicals encountered in industries that remain important to European manufacturing and industrial employment.
Cobalt and its inorganic compounds are used in several industrial applications, including certain battery technologies, metal processing and specialist manufacturing.
Exposure to cobalt-containing dust and fumes can occur during production processes, particularly where workers handle powders or undertake activities that generate airborne particles.
Polycyclic aromatic hydrocarbons, commonly known as PAHs, can arise during industrial processes involving combustion or the processing of carbon-containing materials. Workers in parts of the steel, aluminium and carbon industries may encounter these compounds.
The new legislation also covers 1,4-dioxane, a chemical used in industrial production processes, including applications connected with chemical and textile manufacturing.
Isoprene was added to the revised framework during negotiations between the Council and European Parliament. The substance is used in the manufacture of synthetic rubber and other industrial products.
Exposure limits establish the maximum permissible concentration of specified hazardous substances in workplace air, subject to the measurement methods and averaging periods laid down in the legislation.
Employers must also apply wider preventive measures, which can include replacing hazardous substances where technically possible, improving ventilation, containing industrial processes and monitoring workplace exposure.
One of the significant changes concerns welding fumes, which can contain hazardous substances depending on the materials and processes involved.
Welding is used extensively in construction, automotive production, shipbuilding, infrastructure maintenance and the manufacture of industrial equipment.
Workers may be exposed to mixtures of particles and gases produced when metals are heated, melted or joined.
The revised directive adds relevant welding fumes to the list of substances, mixtures and industrial processes subject to specific requirements under EU occupational safety legislation.
This is particularly relevant where the fumes contain substances classified as carcinogenic, mutagenic or harmful to reproduction.
The legislation does not prohibit welding. Instead, it establishes a clearer legal framework for assessing and reducing occupational exposure.
European institutions have also recognised the need for additional practical guidance to assist employers in applying the new provisions across industries using different welding technologies and materials.
The agreement reached by Parliament and Council in June included provisions addressing protective equipment and the conditions under which it should be used.
The legislation was negotiated against concerns that some manufacturers would require substantial investment to comply with the revised exposure limits.
Industrial employers may need to install extraction systems, improve ventilation, adapt production equipment or introduce additional monitoring arrangements.
For certain substances, the final compromise therefore includes transitional periods intended to give affected sectors time to make the necessary changes.
The agreed period for the application of new limits on polycyclic aromatic hydrocarbons extends to seven years, with provisions covering carbon and graphite manufacturers.
This was one of the modifications introduced during negotiations to balance occupational health requirements with the technical constraints facing individual industries.
The agreement also provides for regular breaks for workers required to wear personal protective equipment and clarifies how those measures interact with existing EU legislation.
Protective equipment remains part of the safety framework, although the directive also recognises the importance of preventing exposure through engineering controls and improved working practices.
The European Commission estimates that more than 2.5 million workers could be exposed to the substances or processes covered by the revision.
Occupational illnesses can produce substantial costs for workers, employers and public health systems, including treatment expenses, sickness absence, reduced productivity and long-term disability.
The Commission previously estimated that the updated legislation could generate up to €1.16 billion in healthcare savings over the coming decades.
These figures are projections derived from assessments of expected exposure reductions rather than outcomes already achieved.
Their accuracy will depend on how effectively Member States implement the legislation and how consistently employers comply with the new requirements.
The measures also form part of the EU’s broader programme to reduce workplace exposure to substances associated with cancer and other serious illnesses.
The directive will enter into force following publication in the Official Journal of the European Union. Member States will then have two years to transpose its provisions into national law.
National authorities will remain responsible for inspections and enforcement, while employers will need to assess which new requirements apply to their operations.
For businesses operating across several EU countries, the revised framework is intended to provide more consistent standards, although national enforcement arrangements may differ.
The practical effects will be most apparent in industrial workplaces where airborne chemical exposure remains a routine occupational risk. Compliance will require manufacturers to examine their production processes before the new requirements become enforceable.
Andy Burnham has announced "big changes" to welfare to get one million NEETs back into work – but only once he's "rebuilt the education system". Sounds expensive, says Mary Gilleece. It’s clearly never going to happen.
The post Andy Burnham Will Never Cut Welfare appeared first on The Daily Sceptic.
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As soon as children learn to follow instructions, we start teaching them obedience. I know that's what I did with my kids.
I asked them to share their things, take turns, and compromise even when they're not always ready to do so willingly. I pushed them to cooperate not only because I felt it was the right thing to do, but because I wanted to keep the peace and be seen as a good parent.
Sadly, it seems society only sees agreeable, generous children as good ones, so parents raise them with a give-in mindset. I followed that path until I realized just how my actions were shaping my children's personalities.
Now I am strongly focused on improving myself while developing a parenting approach tailored to what works best for my children.
At some point, I realized that constantly pushing my children to say yes to everything, acting like good children are meant to, is affecting their personal boundaries.
When my children were not allowed to say no, I noticed they felt uncomfortable, frustrated, and even angry. My older son had no interest in his weekend archery class, yet I kept forcing him to attend. Every Saturday morning became a struggle, as I spent a lot of time convincing him to go. Within a few weeks, I realized that instead of building discipline or a skill, it was creating unnecessary stress for both of us. So I let him opt out.
Since then, I make it a point to ask my children before enrolling them in extracurricular activities, so they spend their time doing things they genuinely enjoy rather than ticking boxes for me.
I also noticed that my children were happy to share snacks from their cabinet with visiting friends, but became upset when someone opened it without asking. I taught them that there is nothing wrong with saying no when someone crosses a boundary or takes something that belongs to them without their permission.
Courtesy of Ariba Mobin.
Setting physical boundaries was another challenge. When relatives and friends would lovingly ask my children for a hug or a kiss on the cheek, I could see them becoming uncomfortable. I could see that they felt obliged to agree, not wanting to be impolite. Without questioning anyone's good intentions, I now let my children decline physical affection when they are uncomfortable. I simply remind them that they can respond with a high-five, a wave, or a smile instead. It helps them respect others' kindness without feeling they have to give up their own boundaries.
I have been told I am spoiling my kids by letting them have their say. But because my children know their voice matters, I have watched them handle peer pressure with remarkable maturity.
Recently, when my son's friends urged him to climb a high wall and jump off it to retrieve a lost ball, he confidently refused. They began teasing him, but he later told me he stayed calm and simply replied that he wasn't going to risk a fracture for a ball. Standing up to peer pressure is hard, but because he knew he could set a boundary, it made things easier.
This practice starts at home, even with me. I now allow my children to respectfully say no to low-stakes matters involving personal preferences. Like it's fine if they choose to stay behind with their grandmother rather than attending an outing they won't enjoy. As their parent, I want to teach them that respectful disagreement is acceptable.
Whenever one of my children respectfully says no to something, I make it a point to validate them, reinforcing that their boundaries matter.
Of course, setting boundaries isn't a free pass for entitlement. It doesn't mean being extra picky about eating or saying no to their assigned homework and household chores. They know that while they are developing these healthy boundaries, I still expect them to demonstrate basic manners.
I want them to be confident individuals who show genuine kindness, but no one should be allowed to exploit it. They should be able to resist unhealthy pressure and hold firm even when saying no feels uncomfortable. I hope that this helps them live a life built with courage, clarity, and true self-worth.
Michael Buckner/WWD via Getty Images
Barbara Palvin is getting praise for walking the Victoria's Secret fashion show in lingerie six weeks postpartum, but she doesn't want it.
In multiple interviews, the Hungarian-born model downplayed the feat, saying it's common for new mothers in the US to be back at work within a similar timeframe.
"In the US, maternity leave is six to eight weeks. I'm six weeks tomorrow, so nothing major here. I'm just doing what every woman does in America," the 33-year-old told USA Today backstage at the fashion show, which took place in Los Angeles on October 18.
"And I only have to walk down a runway," Palvin told Page Six.
In 2025, the US was the only country among the 38 OECD countries, including the UK, Australia, and Japan, to have no national paid maternity leave, according to the OECD Family Database.
New mothers in the US are entitled to up to 12 weeks of unpaid, job-protected leave under the Family and Medical Leave Act, but they must meet certain eligibility criteria. The new mother must have worked for their employer for at least 12 months, worked at least 1,250 hours in the previous 12 months, and their employer must have 50 or more employees within 75 miles of their job site.
Federal workers are generally entitled to 12 weeks of paid leave, but private companies are not legally required to pay employees on parental leave. Some states, including California, New York, Massachusetts, Minnesota, and Maine, have paid family leave programs, but the majority don't.
Data released this year from the Federal Reserve Bank of Minneapolis suggests mothers in the US took an average of 7.2 weeks off to care for a new child.
Frazer Harrison/Getty Images for Victoria's Secret
Palvin, who has been married to actor Dylan Sprouse since July 2023, gave birth to her first child, a girl called Sylvie, on September 7.
Palvin was named a Victoria's Secret Angel in 2019. She first walked the Victoria's Secret fashion show in 2012. At the 2025 Victoria's Secret fashion show, Sprouse told reporters that Palvin had broken her foot four weeks earlier and was walking the runway with a "half-healed foot."
The first Victoria's Secret Fashion Show took place at The Plaza Hotel in New York City in 1995. It was broadcast online for the first time in 1999, and was so popular that the host site crashed.
Warning for other Arctic communities as residents told not to use water in Longyearbyen in Svalbard, one of the fastest-warming places in the world
Residents of a remote town in Norway that is in one of the fastest-warming places in the world have been told they must no longer drink tap water due to heavy metal contamination that scientists have linked to the thawing permafrost.
Longyearbyen, in the archipelago of Svalbard, gets its main drinking water supply from a 1.5 mile-long (2.5km) dammed lake called Isdammen, or “ice pond”. Higher temperatures as a result of the climate crisis have thawed permafrost, leading to newly exposed bedrock leaching metals into the pond.
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© Photograph: Rimante_Hegland/Getty Images/iStockphoto

© Photograph: Rimante_Hegland/Getty Images/iStockphoto

© Photograph: Rimante_Hegland/Getty Images/iStockphoto

Courtesy of Heidi Widmer
This as-told-to essay is based on a conversation with Heidi Widmer. It has been edited for length and clarity.
In July, I moved into an apartment in Los Angeles, exhausted from a six-day drive across the country from New York. All I wanted to do was get into the apartment and sleep, and luckily, my bed had been delivered on the same day I arrived.
Trying to fall asleep at 2 a.m., all I could hear was a loud noise coming from the apartment upstairs. It sounded as if someone was bowling. Although I was tempted to shout for them to be quiet, I held my tongue — I was the new neighbor and didn't want to be difficult.
But the noise just didn't seem to stop. Whoever lived up there also never came downstairs. Who lives up there? I thought to myself.
Two weeks after moving in, I heard someone coming down the stairs and had to get a glimpse of who lived above me.
Peeking out of my door, I saw Carole for the first time, slowly making her way down the stairs, shaking badly from what was clearly Parkinson's, and trying to carry a bunch of bags full of recycling.
Just as I was about to open the door to see if she needed help, she dropped all the bags with only a couple of steps left. I burst out of my apartment to help her.
"Oh my gosh, thank you," she said in her sweet British accent. "Did you just move in? Am I too loud for you?"
In that moment, I felt totally and completely humbled.
Having grown up in the Catholic church, I was taught never to judge a book by its cover, and with Carole, I hadn't even seen the cover. I judged her simply by the noise she produced upstairs. How could I be so judgmental?
It turns out that sound had been Carole rolling a three-wheeled, broken chair across her floor to get to her mini fridge — the mini fridge social services had given her when her refrigerator broke. She had to hoist herself out of her broken chair to get down and access the mini fridge.
That was the noise.
Two days after we met, I knocked on her door. She peeked through and nervously let me in. The conditions inside weren't great.
Although she can live independently, she just needs a little help. I later learned that she doesn't like accepting help from people, especially social services. The fact that she is frightened of the very people meant to help her breaks my heart.
That day, I took all of her trash out for her, reassuring her I wasn't judging her at all.
Courtesy of Heidi Widmer
In the weeks and now months that have followed, I have been up to Carole's to help with the trash, cooking (she'd only been having microwave meals), cleaning, and contacting the landlord to get him to replace and repair items in the apartment. We've decorated her apartment, too.
Together, we made her an Amazon wish list, and I shared it on social media so that people could order things she needs and have them delivered directly to her. People have been so generous, purchasing things like an expensive Buddhist "butsudan" that Carole didn't expect anyone to buy.
Courtesy of Heidi Widmer
We set up a GoFundMe, which has raised about $80,000, and we plan to use the funds to have a stair lift installed for her. Any leftover money will be spent on in-home care as she continues to age and her Parkinson's Disease progresses.
I know I've been helpful to Carole in these last few months, but she's been the perfect person at the perfect time for me, too. Moving to LA, I had hardly any connections. Lots of Carole's family members are either no longer living or back in the UK (she moved here in her 20s as an au pair).
Carole became the family I haven't had, and I became hers. We text back and forth each day, and I see her most days. She calls me granddaughter, and I see her as my grandmother.
When I've had a hard day at work teaching at a local middle school, Carole is ready to give me a big hug when I get home. She's been my safe space, and I've been hers. The universe knew we needed each other.
It's an unlikely connection, but it shows that when you lead with kindness rather than judgment, the person you were ready to judge can become someone you can't imagine your life without.
In the three weeks since a health worker’s death in Siberia, officials have stonewalled the WHO – setting a worrying precedent for future pandemics
Is there a plague outbreak in Russia? If the answer were a clear yes, there shouldn’t be much reason to worry. With swift medical intervention, plague is treatable. But in the nearly three weeks since a worker at a Siberian plague research unit died of a mysterious respiratory illness, state officials have been consistently tight-lipped about what happened and whether there were any further cases.
It is this uncertainty that has the World Health Organization (WHO) and international community worried: partly because there is a – very small – risk of an outbreak, and partly because it is yet another warning that the international coordination we rely on to prevent pandemics is fraying along with the rest of international politics, and could easily fail to protect us in the future.
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© Photograph: Smirnov Vladimir/Anadolu/Getty Images

© Photograph: Smirnov Vladimir/Anadolu/Getty Images

© Photograph: Smirnov Vladimir/Anadolu/Getty Images


Courtesy of Melissa Noble
I've always been a city mouse, so when we decided to move from Melbourne, Australia, to Bright in country Victoria in 2021, I wasn't sure how long I'd last. Our family ended up falling in love with the slower pace of life and the people, and spent four years in the small alpine town at the foothills of the Victorian Alps.
But in January, we moved from Bright to the Gold Coast, where I grew up. My parents' health was declining, and I wanted to spend quality time with them before it was too late.
Moving from a small regional town of fewer than 3,000 people to a city of almost 700,000 was a profound lifestyle shift for our family of five. We had to make new friends, learn how to navigate a traffic light again (joking!), and get used to the buzzing city life.
Overall, we've gained a lot from moving to the city, and I feel it's been especially beneficial to our kids, as it's helped build resilience. But there are definitely things about country life that I do miss, if I'm being honest.
Life is full of trade-offs, and we've definitely made a few.
In country Victoria, our nearest major retailer was an hour's drive away. If the kids needed new shoes or I needed new underwear, off we'd drive to the nearest major town. It often felt like a mission just to access simple amenities.
Nowadays, everything we need is at our fingertips. If we want to eat Italian one night and Nepalese the next, we can. The Gold Coast has all the amenities we need, and a good mix of beaches, hinterland hikes, nightlife, festivals, and an up-and-coming food scene.
Cities generally offer better career and education opportunities, without a doubt. In our family, my husband has probably benefited the most in that regard.
When we moved here in January, he expanded his Muscle Freedom remedial massage and myotherapy business and started a clinic on the Gold Coast. Since then, the opportunities have been incredible, and he's treated some of Australia's biggest sporting identities. That would likely never have happened in country Victoria (unless they were holidaying there).
Likewise, our kids seem to be thriving at school and in their extra-curricular activities, many of which were unavailable where we used to live.
When I was having a bad mental health day in Bright, there was no escaping friends and family (bless them). Once, at the supermarket, I was weeping in the bread aisle, only to be greeted by my husband's cheerful colleague, who was keen to chat about the weather. I wanted to scream and run away.
In the city, I quite enjoy the anonymity and being a number in the crowd, especially on harder days.
I also love having access to a diverse range of art, music, entertainment, and food on the Gold Coast. After four years living in the country, I began to feel a bit starved of culture.
My kids are also mingling with children from different backgrounds and walks of life, which I am really happy about.
Bright is surrounded by mountains, forests, rivers, and cycling trails, with gorgeous national parks a short drive away. It really is a smorgasbord of activities for outdoor enthusiasts.
The Gold Coast has plenty of sunshine and offers some spectacular natural scenery, but you do have to drive to access it. I've actually put on a few kilos living in the city, and I think it's mainly because I'm not walking or cycling as much.
When we recently returned to Bright for a family holiday, I realized how much I've missed those wide open spaces. The air seems to feel fresher there.
Living in suburbia on the Gold Coast, the blocks are tighter, and some areas feel like the properties are on top of each other. Even as I write this, I can overhear the next-door neighbor arguing with her husband about his messy household habits.
I've been lucky enough to make some wonderful friends on the Gold Coast. The kind who check in on us when we're sick or offer to babysit if my husband and I need a night out. But it also seems that people are busier in the city, and get-togethers happen less often.
In a small town like Bright, it's easier to catch up with people because everyone lives close by. I found that living in the country helped me form deeper connections with friends. That brought a sense of security, knowing that someone always has your back.
Since moving to the city, life has felt frantic. For the first six months, every weekend was jam-packed with catch-ups with family and new and old friends.
In a small country town, the pace of life was much slower. Recently, while we were holidaying in Bright, I felt my shoulders relax, and my stress levels decrease. There's something to be said for a simple life.
We'd intended to give the Gold Coast 12 months and then make a call about where to base ourselves long-term. But now that we're almost at that mark, we've realized it's too soon to make a decision.
And so, we'll be spending 2027 here, then reassessing our options late next year. Part of me craves the open skies, fresh mountain air, and the stillness I took for granted in the country, but I'm also enjoying having Aldi a kilometer away and more choices overall.
I suppose at the end of the day, there's no perfect place to live, just places that suit you at different life stages. For now, the Gold Coast is giving us convenience, variety, and time with my folks, and I intend to enjoy the best of what city life has to offer.
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Whenever I schedule an appointment during the school day, I feel guilty.
I ask for their latest available appointment. If that doesn't work, I pull up the school calendar. Then I start doing the ridiculous parent math: How long is the drive? What class will my child miss? Can I get them back before the final bell? Is there some magical way to make a 10:30 appointment happen without blowing up half the school day? Usually, there isn't. So I take the appointment.
I'm a mother in rural North Carolina. Healthcare providers aren't always five minutes down the road, and appointments that fit perfectly between school dismissal and dinner aren't exactly falling from the sky. Sometimes the appointment you need is at 10:30 a.m. on a Tuesday. And sometimes you take it. I still feel guilty about it almost every time.
I want my child in school. Of course I do. I know how quickly one missed class can turn into a missing assignment, which then becomes another assignment they don't understand because they missed the first one. But I also have to take care of my child. Sometimes those two responsibilities bump right into each other. And that's probably why perfect-attendance awards have always bothered me.
I understand why schools care about attendance. Kids need to be in classrooms. They need instruction, routine, relationships with teachers and classmates, and all the little pieces of school that are hard to recreate at home. When a child is missing a lot of school, I absolutely think families should be supported in figuring out why and helping that child get back into a routine.
But perfect attendance is something different. An unbroken attendance record isn't necessarily a measure of how hard a child tried. Kids don't choose when they get the flu. They don't control when the specialist finally has an opening. They can't give their parents paid time off, fix the car when it won't start, make the school bus come down a road it doesn't serve, or move a doctor's office 45 minutes closer to home.
The certificate may have a child's name printed on it, but there's a whole lot of family circumstance behind that streak. I work for myself, which gives me more flexibility than many parents have. I can move things around when an appointment pops up. That doesn't mean the lost work hours don't matter, but I can usually make it happen.
A parent working an hourly job may be making a completely different calculation. Can I afford to lose three hours of pay? Will my boss be irritated? How many times have I already had to leave early this year?
And that's before we even get into transportation, housing instability, access to healthcare, chronic illness, or any of the other things families may be dealing with that nobody sees when the certificates get handed out. Those circumstances matter. They just aren't evidence that one child tried harder than another.
As parents, we already have to make enough judgment calls when our kids are sick. Is this a stay-home sick or a send-them-and-see sick? Are they actually exhausted or just really, really not interested in going to math?
We're told attendance matters. And it does. We're also told to keep our kids home when they're contagious because sending them to school sick exposes others to illness. Both things can be true.
Then we turn around and give an award for never missing a day. That's where I get stuck. One fever in October can knock a child out of the running for an award handed out in June.
I don't want to hesitate before keeping my sick child home because some part of my brain is thinking about an attendance record. And I definitely don't want my child learning that dragging yourself through school when you feel awful is proof that you're more dedicated.
Sometimes staying home is the responsible choice. Sometimes missing school for an appointment is the responsible choice. And sometimes the impressive part isn't never missing school at all, it's coming back.
I'm not suggesting schools stop caring whether kids come to school. Chronic absenteeism is a real problem, and families dealing with it may need more support, not less. But perfection doesn't have to be the prize.
Recognize the kid whose attendance improved from one grading period to the next. Celebrate shorter milestones. Acknowledge the student who had a rough stretch and worked their way back into a routine.
Despite my views, I know I'll keep doing the school-day appointment math. I'll keep asking for the latest opening. I'll keep checking the calendar. I'll keep trying to minimize what my child misses and help them catch up when missing school can't be avoided. And I'll probably still feel a little guilty every time.
My child may never earn a perfect-attendance award. I'm fine with that. I'd much rather they learn that taking care of themselves is responsible, staying home when they're contagious is considerate, and showing up again after a hard stretch is something worth being proud of.
Courtesy of Emily Cappiello.
You know those TikToks about the childless, traveling aunt? The one who's somehow always at an airport, has a suspicious amount of money, occasionally shows up with gifts she definitely didn't need to buy (while carrying yet another new designer purse), and is never quite sure what time zone she's in? Yep, that's me.
For years, I happily embraced the stereotype. I'd swoop in for birthdays and holidays, always say yes to dessert (and extra dessert), create a little chaos, then head back to my own wonderfully independent life.
I assumed I understood the assignment. Bring the snacks. Buy the birthday presents. Show up to holidays with something fun tucked under my arm. Be loud, be silly, make them laugh, then hand them back to their parents when the day was over. It was the best kind of job. I got all the joy without much of the responsibility.
Or so I thought.
Courtesy of Emily Cappiello.
As my nieces and nephew got older, I realized something that surprised me: I wasn't really getting to know them as they were maturing into their own people. I had to ask their moms what they wanted for birthdays, or worse, I just bought out the toy section at Target and hoped something would stick. I also didn't know who they were when they didn't have to compete for attention or weren't trying to impress me with the farthest throw, the coolest dive into the pool, or the biggest burp. That's when "Auntie Emily Days" were born.
Rather than trying to squeeze meaningful time into crowded family gatherings, I started planning one-on-one adventures with each child — all seven of them.
Before we get together, they give me a guideline of what they want to do, and then I execute. Sometimes it's easy; dinner at The Melting Pot and a few hours spent at a cat café. Sometimes it's a bit more complicated with a sleepover at the Freehand (it has bunk beds!) and sightseeing in New York City.
Courtesy of Emily Cappiello.
Yes, I pull out all the stops I can, like ice skating at Wollman Rink and dinner at Bad Roman for one; an Oheka Castle lunch and manicure/pedicure with Starbucks for another; calling in a favor for on-field access for my nephew. Then each goes home with a little gift to remind them of the day.
But the itinerary is never really the point. The point is that each child gets a day built entirely around their interests. For a few uninterrupted hours, they don't have to compromise with a sibling or wait their turn. They feel seen, heard, and don't have to compete for attention. And that's when I started seeing parts of their personalities I might have otherwise missed.
While I have a firm grasp on all of their personalities, it was shocking to me how different they were one-on-one. Emma is the coolest kid and thankful for every experience, treating every moment as if it's the best she's ever had. Zoë can turn almost anything into a joke and somehow finds the fun walking through the most crowded street in New York. Jessica is analytical and technical, but away from her sisters, her wonderfully goofy sense of humor takes over. Jocelyn has a confidence and spunk that's impossible to ignore, yet she's remarkably intuitive. JJ is quieter than the rest, preferring to observe first and ask thoughtful questions later. Isabelle is sweet, demure, and quiet, and simply a joy to be around. And baby Isla is a force of nature I know I'm going to love hanging out with when she gets a bit older.
Courtesy of Emily Cappiello.
Without siblings or parents nearby, they open up completely. They tell me about school friendships, worries they haven't shared with anyone else, and things they're excited about. I may not run back and tell their parents everything, but it may give me a little sway over the Christmas list. It's amazing what children reveal when they feel like someone is listening only to them.
The biggest surprise wasn't how much I learned about them; it was how much they began trusting me.
Courtesy of Emily Cappiello.
I'm not their parent. I don't have to enforce bedtime, nag them to do homework, or beg them to get off their tablet. But I'm also not just the adult who appears a few times a year with presents.
Over time, they learned that our conversations stay between us unless they need my help. They've discovered that they can tell me about a bad day without worrying I'll immediately relay every detail to their parents. That doesn't mean I keep dangerous secrets. It means I respect them enough to let them own their stories. That trust changes everything and, I believe, will be vital as they age.
When I think back on our days together, it isn't always the tickets or the destinations that stand out. It's sharing French fries while they tell me their new favorite joke or something silly their sibling did. It is being absolutely frozen on the deck of the Staten Island Ferry staring at the Statue of Liberty because it was on our list. Or hearing an unfiltered opinion about school, extracurriculars, or something bothering them. It's watching them become confident enough to order for themselves at a restaurant — and then hearing they are doing that at home, too. It's nice when you realize a conversation we had in the car or a little encouragement during one of our adventures didn't end when I dropped them off.
Courtesy of Emily Cappiello.
For a long time, I assumed choosing not to have children meant I'd miss out on watching kids grow up. I couldn't have been more wrong. I get a front-row seat to their lives, just from a different seat. I get to celebrate their milestones, encourage their interests, answer the occasional hard question, and then, yes, send them home to their parents at the end of the day. It turns out that's exactly the role I was meant to have.
I don't make every baseball game, I'm not in the audience for every cheer competition, I can't be there every Saturday. But now I know that the intentional time I had with each child carries a bigger weight than just showing up, saying hello, giving them a hug, and going home.
Courtesy of Emily Cappiello.
By carving out uninterrupted time with each child, I've been able to create something that doesn't happen naturally in the chaos of their family life, or in my own solo life.
Yes, I will always be the fun aunt, but instead of just "she was around," my intention has become "she showed up." I want them to remember having someone who listened without interrupting, who asked questions because she genuinely wanted to know the answer,; who made space for their interests, even when they weren't her own. Not someone who just said, "Sure, you can have another piece of cake, I don't care." (While still also allowing them to have more cake.)
Pope Leo XIV made a remarkable return to the Vatican on Sunday, appearing before thousands of Catholic faithful in St. Peter's Square just five days after undergoing surgery to remove a cancerous tumor from his lung.
The 71-year-old pontiff delivered his traditional Angelus prayer from a window overlooking the square, marking his first official engagement since being discharged Saturday from Rome's Gemelli hospital, where doctors removed the lower lobe of his right lung.
Leo thanked the faithful for their prayers and support throughout his hospitalization, saying his recent health struggles had brought him closer to those suffering from illness. He also expressed gratitude to the doctors, nurses and hospital staff who cared for him following the operation.
POPE LEO XIV DISCHARGED FROM HOSPITAL, WILL RETURN TO VATICAN AFTER SURGERY TO REMOVE LUNG CANCER
The first American-born pope said he planned to gradually resume his regular activities with God's help and the continued prayers of the faithful.
During his Angelus address, Leo reflected on one of Jesus' best-known teachings, "Give therefore to the emperor the things that are the emperor's, and to God the things that are God's," urging Christians to live with integrity and resist hypocrisy.
His return came sooner than expected after doctors initially anticipated a hospital stay of approximately one week following Tuesday's surgery.
As he departed the hospital on Saturday, the pope told a reporter in English that he was doing "much better."
Claire Holland, visiting from Jacksonville, Fla., told The Associated Press she felt "very blessed" to witness the pope's return.
"I think there have been millions and millions of prayers. And he is a strong determined man, and I am so happy that he is feeling well enough to do this," Holland said.
POPE LEO UNDERGOES BLOOD TESTS, X-RAY FOLLOWING CANCER SURGERY, VATICAN SAYS
The surgery marked the first major health crisis of Leo's 17-month pontificate. Doctors confirmed that the tumor was adenocarcinoma, the most common form of lung cancer.
Doctors are conducting further testing on the tumor and surrounding lymph nodes to determine the extent of the disease and whether additional treatment, including chemotherapy, immunotherapy or targeted therapy, may be necessary.
The pope is scheduled to visit Uruguay, Argentina and Peru from Nov. 6 through Nov. 17, a demanding itinerary that includes a dozen flights and two helicopter rides to high-altitude destinations.
His surgeon, Dr. Stefano Margaritora, told Vatican News on Saturday that the pope appears well enough to go on the trip.
"The Holy Father has put his heart and soul into his recovery," Margaritora said, adding that he expected Leo to recover fully from the surgery "in another 10 days or so."
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"As for a long trip involving air travel in about three weeks, I would say there are no clinical reasons why it should not take place," Margaritora said.
Fox News’ Courtney Walsh and The Associated Press contributed to this report.


