Tuesday, February 2, 2016

No Filter, Just Like Their Momma!

Has anyone noticed from reading this blog that I suffer an extreme and severe lack of having any sort of speech filter whatsoever? I mean I will literally say just about anything on my mind, and I'm afraid that I've passed that trait down onto my children. I mean sure, they are just kids, and only time will tell if they grow out of their childhood freedom of speech and turn into "normal," adults, but at this point I'm leaning towards the distinct possibility that they might be just a little bit more... like me.

So in the meantime, this is what it sounds like when you cram three people with no speech filters into one family.


Tonight I asked The Boy Child to pick his clothes up from the floor and put them in the washing machine. Instead of simply doing what I asked him to do (because that would have been too easy), he said "why do you always tell me what to do?"

A bit startled that he has yet to learn the hierarchy of this family, I looked at him and said "because I'm in charge."

Peering at me, he lifted his little hand until it was directly in front of his face, and pointed his finger at me. Squinting his eyes as if he were questioning my answer, he said "why do you always say that to me?"

"Because I am your mother, this is my house, and that makes me the boss" I shot back (internally reeling as I realized how old I've gotten).

Clearly offended at my answer he threw his hands up in the air as if he were posed to catch a ball and then said "well I thought we were friends. You need to be nicer to me."

He then turned around, started to walk away, stopped, turned to face me, squinted his eyes and pointed at me again, and said "Santa is watching you ya know."


Although The Girl Child seems to be a fairly bright child, there are moments when I can't help but remember that she is in fact, only 7 years old. While walking on the track at the gym with her one evening, she made reference to a friend we have that is losing his hair.

"Mom," she said, clearly deep in thought. "Maybe he should wear a hat or something when he runs on the track, just like you put your hair in a ponytail. That way all his hair would stop blowing off."

Running too fast, the new cause of male pattern baldness.

Monday, January 25, 2016

I Need To Stop Looking At It

“Can we please just cancel?” I found myself asking him.

I just couldn’t go through with it.

I’ve been seeing this guy for a while now and there are still some family members of his that I haven’t met. The plan was for us to all go out to dinner on Saturday night, but as the day started to draw nearer, I found myself increasingly anxious about going at all.

Later that night as we chatted on the phone and he wondered aloud why I didn’t want to meet his family, I felt myself starting to emotionally shut down.

I didn’t want to tell him what I was thinking.

But when I could feel the conversation turning towards his own insecurities about why I was backing away from his family, I finally mustered up the courage to choke out what I was thinking.

“I’m not the kind of girl that families want to meet.”


He didn’t say anything for a minute, but even though we were talking over the phone, it was easy to sense his confusion and before I knew it my thoughts were falling out all over the place in a long winded ramble of emotions.

Friday, January 15, 2016

I'd Like To Officially Welcome My Parents And My Extended Family To My Readership Base (Yep, they are here)

So…. I’ve gotten a lot of emails asking me how the party went for my grandmother. You guys remember what I’m talking about, right? The 90th birthday party that was being thrown for my grandmother, the one I wanted to attend because I wanted to be there for her, but it was going to be incredibly awkward because I hadn’t seen much of my family in years?

Well, I didn’t go.

I was planning to go, but I literally couldn’t go because I was uninvited and told not to come.

Yep, that happened.

Why did that happen you may ask?

Because just days before the party, my family found this blog.

Yep, that happened too.


I know.

Monday, January 4, 2016

My Neighbors Called The Police

So I have a confession to make.

Bugs, they make me scream.

It's totally ridiculous and actually pretty funny, but I can't help it — they make me scream. It's not even so much that I'm scared of the bug itself, but more in the way that the bug most likely snuck up on me.

I love scary things. Haunted houses, scary movies, and roller coasters are all right up my ally, but that's in part because I know that I'm about to be scared; I expect and prepare for it. Scared I don't mind, but startled I don't pull off too well because when I get startled I scream. 

Just ask Mr. Attorney Man.

A couple weeks ago I was on the phone with him while I was leaving my house to get The Girl Child from school. I opened the front door to leave and ran face first into a cable salesman that was about to ring my doorbell.

Wednesday, December 30, 2015

Why On Earth Would I Buy That?

This Christmas my kids and I were extremely blessed by many of you readers. Due to your generosity, my kids had an amazing Christmas. My daughter was able to get her Puppy Surprise and when the "litter" that arrived in my PO Box was so much more than I could have ever anticipated, my nonprofit pulled a team together to pay it forward and brighten the faces of the children in our organization; children whose families have been devastated by domestic violence and because of that are also financially struggling.

You guys really blew me away this holiday season and as I keep saying to people, I really don't even know what to say. I thought about writing another mushy-gushy post, but to be honest I have no more tears left to cry. I spent Christmas morning crying as I watched my children squeal with glee and I could see that for once, all their dreams were coming true, and then I cried because their dad wasn't around to see it. I cried when I collected the Puppy Surprise toys for the shelter; happy that so many kids would be thrilled, and then I cried because so many kids shouldn't even be in the shelter to begin with. I've spent many nights recently crying myself to sleep — scared as always for what tomorrow will bring, but also just because I feel so incredibly blessed.

I am so incredibly blessed.

But I simply cannot cry anymore and so in looking forward to the New Year, I want nothing more than to kick it off in the best way possible; LAUGHING! And so with that, here are a few things that I am happy did not show up in my PO Box this holiday season. In a spin off to our usual "Things That Make You Ask Why?" series, I bring you "Why On Earth Would I Buy That?"


 Why is it so apparent that whoever designed this toy does not have children?

Because no kid has ever asked for a "make your own chandelier kit" and no parent has ever jumped at the chance to buy one. Do you know what kind of crafts I like my kids to do?

The ones that they can do alone.

Any toy that requires an electrician be present in order to play with it probably also comes with glitter.

Parents, you know what I'm talking about when I say glitter.



Wednesday, December 23, 2015

Well, That Never Happened

So I've been attempting and failing to get a new blog post out for DAYS now, and I'm finally waving the white flag. Between The Boy Child getting taken down by the stomach flu, The Girl Child getting hit in the face at daycare and needing stitches, a bunch of year end work that needed to be done for the nonprofit, multiple deadlines I've been trying to meet as my (writing) employers close out their year end publishing schedules, and a litany of other ridiculous yet time consuming events that have taken place over the last week, I fold.

Do you hear that universe? I fold, you win! I will never see my sofa again because you win!

Monday, December 14, 2015

A Better Way To Spend Your Time

“But no one will think I’m pretty!” she said, her 7 year old face starting to well up with tears.

Dressed as if she were going to be in an elementary school fashion show, she was wearing the dress that she begged me to stay up late last night and wash, enough plastic bracelets to accessorize the entire 2nd grade, my cherry Chapstick (because “maybe my friends will think it’s lipstick!”), and yet she still wouldn’t get out of the car.

Looking at the 7 year old face wearing the cherry red Chapstick that I would never normally allow her to wear to school, my mothering instincts wanted nothing more than to lock the car doors, and take her back home where I could protect her.

But I couldn’t do that and she knew it, because it was a conversation that had kept her and I up late many nights over the past few weeks; a conversation revolving around the fact that she didn’t want to wear her new leg braces to school.

My daughter has worn braces on her legs since she was two years old, but a year ago at the suggestion of her physical therapist, we decided to see how she would do without them, and for about nine months she did great!

But then she stopped doing so great.

After a trip to the doctor and a check-in with her old therapist, it was decided that she needed to go back in the braces overnight and for periods of time during the day. To say that my daughter was crushed would be the understatement of the century. Although braces for her won’t be a forever thing, she doesn’t care, because for her they are a “right now” thing and right now she is in 2nd grade where the kids are learning to judge each other on anything and everything.

She doesn’t want to be judged.

To her, she feels the way that every little girl wants to feel. She feels like a princess, a model, a singer, a dancer, a comedian, and a valedictorian. She is goofy, spunky, crazy, funny, smart, caring, precious, and loved. But when she looks in the mirror, she sees plastic that makes her feel “different, less than, and broken.” And when that reflection shines back at her it overpowers the princess wearing the cherry red Chapstick and 37 plastic bracelets, because she knows that when other people look at her, they aren’t going to be looking at her bracelets. She knows that the other kids (and even some adults) are going to be looking at her legs and that everything else that makes her who she is will become secondary to the one attribute that people will naturally focus on.

And it kills me.