Archive for the ‘comedic writing’ Category

Puppy Prose

Posted: September 16, 2015 in comedic writing, comedy
Tags: , ,

Puppy Prose :

…..I shall tear through the soft people clothes wide-eyed and crazed…
till I meet the soft (..the bigger humans more wrinkly and leathery) flesh.. until I hear loud shrieks of delight and fancy.

…..I will snub the 345 fancy bacon flavored plastic bones in favor of that squishy, padded  thing my mom sometimes wears in which she exhales in  relief every afternoon and exclaims !!

……”I wish I could burn these things”….

..I Will , however,  inhale the edible bones so fast, I choke.. and watch everyone shriek again in delight..but a bit more panicky  …”SCOUT !ARE YOU OKAY?”

……To which I say. .in my head ..
      “You know I can’t talk right?”

……Due to my frenzied ADHD like behavior (which I inherently adopted from these tiny and bigger humans)….I will suddenly &


narcoleptic-ally..pass out ..leaving my mom stressed out thinking I nibbled up a Tylenol pm..”

Love, Scout

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I was inspired to write this blog, amidst the Dad/Mom Bod phenomenon. When I turned 39, I decided it would be a fantastic  idea to break into the fitness industry. There was pressure to eat clean,  train lean and not be mean, while teaching fitness and testing the   the “21-Day-Restriction-I-might-Faint-Diet.”   It stimulated dysfunctional behavior that was triggered by an alcoholic and anorexic past.  While I’m not in obsessive mode right now, I  have some work to do with regards to my relationship with food.

I am not going to rattle of obesity statistics and spew out health knowledge because it’s been done to death. I think that our culture has made food a flashy-fast by-product of our day, washed down with Skinny cocktails,  OR became the complete center of our attention.   I just dropped banana peanut butter on my key board, (peanut butter side down) because I ate my sandwich in 23.5 seconds, so I lean towards flashy-fast.  Finding the middle ground with food, is like trying to find that happy place with the thermostat….when you are pre-peri-menopausal.

There are so many blogs, vlogs, experts, diet commercials, pills, foods, trends, kale recipes that are bombarded into the atmosphere,  I’m beginning to wonder if the demon who plank-walk backwards in horror films, just finished an article from an “Eat Healthy or DIE” blog.

Every day, I talk to or see one person who is giving up a food group in the name of health. …I do not hang out to find the reason.  It’s too much of a trigger for me to restrict food and dislike my my body or feel as though I should be giving up the same food group.

‘There is too much sugar in everything.’
“Simple carbohydrates are Eldiablo.
As a society, it then becomes acceptable eviscerate those who do not exercise with the message of , “Go Big or Go Home.”  Moderation equals lazy.  If we aren’t dripping sweat from every orifice of our body  as we screen shot our rippling abs, it’s not worth effort, so lets just order a cake and eat the whole freaking thing.

The other day I went for a bike ride.  On a non-mountain bike trail with my mountain bike that was built for Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson.  Thirty Three seconds into my ride, my phone rings.  My daughter had a tinkle accident. I picked that bike up like “The Rock”, threw into my bad-ass Ford Pick up, fulfilled my mom duties, and went right back to the  trail. Forty Five seconds later, the chain jammed and came off. This happened fifty three more times.  I was ecstatic.  I was covered in grease and sweat and glory.  I did not care about time or cadence or wind speed or calories burnt or if my core was engaged or whether my inner thighs felt tightened. I had fun. Exercising.

This is a love letter to you.  Let us love our extra skin, cellulite or whatever perceived flaw we have imposed upon our beautiful , amazing , womanly ,  bodies.  We are women.  We are designed to have MORE FAT ON OUR BODY THAN MEN. Period. That shit is genetic.   I’m not trying to leave the dudes out, I know they struggle with body image as well, but I’m speaking from my own experience and hope.

What happened to us?   According to this article

Americans spend SIXTY BILLION DOLLARS on weight loss products.  I’m not a mathematician, but I think we could do better things with this type of cash-money. Yes,  some of those dollars are used towards positive lifestyle choices. Why so much money for magic dust, magic pills, starvation diets, or anything that perpetuates skewed mind-body-food and wellness connection.

The affects of the health and fitness industry are not all bad. There are sites that promote moderately infused health and balance, such as My Fitness Pal.   When I treat my health journey moderately, I learned a lot of healthy  habits and craved  healthier foods. I stopped cycles of binging and purging and starving and over-exercising.

The  diet demons are still there.   The voices that tell me that  flour and sugar will turn me into a raging cocaine addict. Somewhere, Somehow, Someone made a flawed comparison of cocaine to sugar and flour.  Puppies and Meerkats  stimulate the same “nerve receptors’ as cocaine and sugar,  so no more cute and cuddly ?  The voices that expel disparaging rhetoric in our brains propels polarizing extremes in a society that desperately needs balance.     The voices that tell us that moderation is for the weak and carbohydrates are the spawn of all things that sag and dimple.

I ask you today, to write a love letter to your body. Simple. Balanced. Elegant. If you do feel overweight or need to lose weight for medical reasons, Trust me when I tell you, if you learn to love your body for what it’s able to do RIGHT NOW AT THIS VERY MINUTE, and you learn to love yourself for WHO YOU ARE AT THIS VERY MINUTE, the scale will become less of an issue.  The  jiggle and cellulite blogs will be out of your radar.  You won’t gawk at abs.  Okay maybe Magic Mike Dancing Abs.  I’m not 100% there in 100% acceptance of my body. I still turn around and examine my cellulite.  I still step on the scale and say “Sh..”.  I still compare myself to my friends that don’t eat sugar or bread.

But I love myself so much more than I ever did when I was skinnier, ripped and could hold a plank for two minutes.

This is not me on a bike. .but I couldn’t find any of me on a bike !! and this was pretty darn fun too!!:)





For most of my life, I have tried to be a chameleon.  If you were a Republican, I was in the Tea Party. If you liked country music, I was Carrie Underwood’s second cousin.  I am not political, although I love political humor, and my play list is labeled with such gems as,  “‘Bootie’ Music Explosion” and “Crunkalischious”.    Living in Southern Suburbia, with a New England background swearing more than the ladies in the movie “The Fighter”, there is a fine line between being myself and causing people to exclaim”Oh Heavens, what did she just say, fetch me the vapors Scarlett.”    Here are just a few reasons, why I probably should not run for any Southeastern School District PTO:

1) I cried laughing when the teacher/ DJ played Jimmy Buffet’s “Jamaica Mistakia,” at the 3rd grade Luau and “A++hole” & “s**tty” were not edited out. That was hours ago and I’m still laughing uncontrollably. No one else was amused. Actually, I don’t think they heard it which I find EVEN FUNNIER. I think I snorted.

2) I did not wear my flowing Luau attire, with my gold~lame~boot~thong (no, not that kind silly) sandals. I wore shorts that I do not remember being as short last year. Either my legs grew (at age 42??) Or my child bearing hips came in nine years too late.   I wore ridiculously high wedges. My outfit was a cross between an Aeropostle sale and 2010 Express’s spring line.

3) My sun glasses are NOT cool. Maybe that’s because I have been banned from buying “designer” shades since I misplace, break or dive off boats with them on my head into giant lakes. That’s another blog. Needless to say, my dollar store shades make me look very non~PTO~ish and quite frankly, I don’t think they protect my eyes. I have a screaming headache either from them squeezing my head or them not even shielding the sun.

4) I asked if I could drink one of the bottled waters, under the snack tent, and I felt like I walked up holding Joe Biden’s hand at a Republican convention.

5) I do not say things like  “Let’s all make sure we make good choices during musical chairs”  , I am more along the lines of “For the love of all that is tranquil, please LISTEN TO THE WORDS THAT ARE COMING OUT OF MY MOUTH”.

6) I do not like bouncy houses. They freak me out, so if I were on the PTO, they would be banned. I would nominate the ban,  second the nomination and ban bouncy houses. I would be known as the PTO Mom who ruined School Parties. I strongly dislike clowns as well….Who held hands with Joe Biden stealing bottled waters at the Republican Convention.

7) I just don’t think I have PTO hair. I can fix the front, but by the time I get to the back of my head, my arm is aching from trying to fix the same section so I relinquish the battle to a mop of glop. I’m always transfixed by how some of these PTO moms look like they had literally every. Piece. Ironed. Flat. OR expertly. Crafted. Into~a ~”messy”~ curl. You know the song “I woke up like this” by Beyonce. Yeah, I wrote that, but it has completely different context where I am concerned.

8) I kind of have a two hour window on when I feel like I’m going to pass out from exhaustion from being around so many children. I’ve tried. I substituted , I even did Vacation Bible School once (Gasp! I know right? I’m kinda shocked I didn’t spontaneously com-bust in the church recreational room either!!).  I do not have the “You are not making good choices” vernacular.  I most certainly did not make good choices as I child. I was kind of a rebel. A free spirit. I talked back and “sassed” and was probably on the “problem list.”   Today at the pool I muttered a string of profanity while my kids had swimming lessons, with a very religious , gentle-souled teacher. I’m pretty sure I saw her throw water on me and pray.

9).  I do have a bad case of “Resting Bleep Face.  It’s not that I am angry all the time, my lips literally curve downwards and I have two ‘Victor Newman’ scorned wrinkles between my eyebrows, and kids generally do not respond well to my Victor Newman tyranny.

10).  Right now, as I am writing this blog, my daughter whined “It’s already 11:02 mommy, the party is probably over, (it started at 11:00), because we are running late.  I clenched my fists, squinted my Victor Newman eyes, and whined right back to her “pleaseeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee, oh puhleeze, let me jussssssssssst finish this… ” and my lips curved downward, even further to illustrate what I like to call “Active Bleep Face”.

If you know my blogs, you know I still have not received the manual from the hospital whence my children were born, because the only one I have stopped at three months. I have yet to hear back from my complaint at said hospitals.

I do know who and what I am. I over-try. I over-compensate. I actually sweat and my fit-bit explodes with “goals-met”, while I’m parenting. Sometimes it comes out side-ways and some Moms might find me , unsavory.  My R.B.F, or A.B.F, is not haughty disdain for other moms or the PTO Mom, it’s knowing I can’t always protect my kids from the world and I do wear that on my sleeve, a lot.
No, I’m not PTO-Mom material, and I learned how to own “that” FROM my children. I watch them and  soak up every single bit of their tenacity and confidence infused into the cells of their young people souls. I learned that trying to be something I am not, only brings confusion. I can only hope that one day, they are holding hands with Joe Biden’s kin, drinking unapproved water bottles, laughing at inappropriate jokes, and being unequivocally themselves.  (I mean, it would be awesome, if it were at a Republican convention, but let us not get greedy…)


I just read a blog about how French Parenting is superior to American Parenting. According to this article* . We give our children too many snacks and try too damn hard.

As I’m writing this, I’m staring at my Snack Arsenal from Target and my kids had Pringles for dinner, and maybe breakfast. (Its summer break here, so calm down). I’m officially over parenting comparisons, Mommy Wars and juxtaposition of the working versus stay at home parent. Seriously, It’s gone European Viral now.

Here is a snapshot of my wildly spoiled indulgent American Parenting. I wouldn’t change it for every baguette or hot buttered croissant in France and I freaking love French pastries.

1) My son came up stairs while I was half asleep and said “Hey Mom, watch this ” and blew a Spitball at me.
“Isn’t it cool, I made a Spitball machine out of all the straws and tissue in the house” as he wipes his nose on his sleeve.

2) My daughter woke me up in the dead of sleep by coughing into my face. “Mommy I have a bad cough.  fix me”

3) Operation Treadmill Explosion is our version of the Bourne Identity.
My son put my exercise core ball thingy on the treadmill , hit the highest mileage and elevation , until it exploded into core bits. I will NEVER have that six pack of ‘mommy abs’ now

4) My kids hide their dirty clothes with masterful deception rather than just placing them in the dirty laundry hamper. I’m pretty sure French kids do their own laundry while singing French camp songs.

5)  Screen Time. I don’t set limits. It works itself out for the most part.
Gasp away.

6) I miss my kids when they are at school but I have full -blown-splotched –chest-panic-attacks when I think about snow days and summer breaks. Apparently the French are just relaxed about everything and everyone when it comes to parenting. Isn’t the word anxiety a derivative of a French word? Googled it. 16th century France ya’ll.

7) Stomach viruse day is always on “French-anti-Snack Day” which means they ate full meals and the all messy home-cooked-bathed-in-acid-non-snack food, ends up  on the one clean spot of carpet or my head. French will-away stomach viruses with their philosophical views or they catch the vomit in their berets.

8) My kids think kleenex and general hygiene is kryptonite  for their soul. Isn’t the word handkerchief French?

9) American Children recognize their power in numbers. French children quietly make cupcakes while their parents work.

10) American children dance when they eat and they dance on their food like it’s prey. If they don’t like the food , they don’t eat the food and fully express their complete whiny American admonishment for any meal I put- ‘le-petite’ – effort into, especially if it’s French-ish themed like homemade ‘pomme-frites’.

I love my American Parenting style and every parenting expert advice article I see on the internet is met with the glaring whites of my eyes. Yes, that sounds pretty haughty and bourgeoisie (which I just Googled spelling), or ‘bougee’ as we Americans say about people who “try too hard” to elevate their “social class”.


In conclusion, Please insert some philosophical french retort here as all my snack-eatin’ time has french-fried the recesses of my brain which houses four years of French class.

Cest Tout Chiennes.

*French Parenting blog:

From day one, I learned that approval of other humans meant goodness and disapproval meant soul-crushing unworthiness.  Mark Zuckerburg made a multi-billion dollar company off the approval  concept, that stems back to notes in class; “Do you like me? check – yes or no.” Many bloggers are making a ton of money by controversially polarizing  people against one another, faster than Dr Phil can rattle off a cliché during Family Feud.  

My need for society’s or social media’s approval has taken up too much rent-free space in my Rolodex imagination.  I no longer wish to take hellish business trips into the vicissitudes of my multiple inferiority complexes.

Listed below are ten things I am going relinquish and cast out  from my rent-free brain, to free up more space  for watching “Walking Dead” marathons, because that is some uplifting television.  In five years or even five minutes,  my approval rating will not matter and it’s only important to me, my family and those who  truly care for me.

1) Catering my writing and posts for more “likes” and “comments.”  Obviously I want to engage people in my writing and connect with people.  On the flip side,   It’s  selfish act, because its therapeutic and its a great way for me to practice self-care and hopefully along the way, I am inspiring people or making people snort milk out of there nose with laughter. However I am not going to tie my identity and self-worth into lack of engagement or cruel comments. It’s truly not worth my time.

2) Taking Facebook off my smart phone. I do like Facebook. I do like staying in touch with people. I love seeing friends and family and funny bird dancing videos. I don’t like feeling like I need to  check in on Facebook all the (insert string of profanity here) time. It’s a great social tool, period end of story. I need a break from it being on my phone, because I absorb everything I read and sometimes it’s just too much for my spongy brain. If I had been fancy with the numbers,  I would have been a mathematical genius.

3) Ending this incessant need to feel like I need to’ like’ and ‘comment’ on everything I see on Facebook so no-one feels left out or unworthy. (the flip of #1) I know right?  I am not a ego maniac, but # 3 begs to differ, maybe it’s ego doing a doughnut in reverse?  I am also not Facebook’s Mom. I will say, this behavior stems from knowing deep down, what it feels like to be left out, teased, bullied , and cast aside,  I do not wish that for anyone, even my “frenemies” ;),  I can’t save the world and definitely  not through Facebook.

3) Agreeing with people because I do not want to defend my opinion because I do not think my opinion or my thought process is valid.

4) Taking on other people’s sadness or bull$h^!, like I am their therapist. I will ‘Melodie Beattie’ my co-dependency habits right on out the door.  I wonder if Melodie knows, she is now a verb in my life.

5) Saying ‘No’ to activities I can not pursue and say yes to honoring my own commitments to myself and my family.

6) Putting my ‘Stay at Home Mom Guilt’ in a giant trash bag, setting it in the trash, lighting the trash on fire and busting out “The Dougie” while that guilt fades away. I have nothing to feel guilty about, other moms working to support their family HAS NOTHING TO DO with my family’s decision for me to be a stay at home mom.

7) Resisting the urge to flip my lid when someone provides unsolicited feedback. That is all their business, luggage, skeletons and carry-baggage, not mine.  #byefelicia.

8) Purposely trying to cut people out of my life that honestly care about me as a person. That’s even hard for me to type, so the walls  may never reach the foundation and I am accepting of my protective nature. I am trying to be less of a military-black-ops-bad-ass with my emotions. I’m not fighting a war against feeling my emotions anymore.

9) Heeding any attention on my perception on how people “judge me”. We all do it. I want to do it less, and care less when people do it to me.

10) Feeling like I should not blog or be a writer because Word Press makes me blotchy and scratchy because I am allergic the “hyperlinks and widgets.” Feeling “less than” other writers, because I did not go to graduate school, or I am not smart enough or I’m too old, or my blog is not pretty enough , or I can not upload cool pictures of cool people doing cool things in GIF format. I’m not writing for children.  I will stop feeling like I “need” to write because I am a Stay at Home Mom and I need bellow out my productivity statistics in order to justify my existence and relevance.  I’m writing for myself.

10a) Feeling like I need to profusely swear in my writing to be more “relevant”.  I agree, it makes for some humorous reading and I think Huff PO even said, utilizing profanity is a sign of intelligence.. (I truly think some of their pieces are a…. “Hey boss, watch me post this blog and see the internet explode..) but nonetheless, It’s just not who I am as a person. I save all my profanity for Atlanta roads.

I do not need your approval for my life.  I do not need to justify my actions to anyone other than God and my family. I do not owe anyone, anything (well maybe the bank and stuff). I think Salt and Peppa said it best  “There is only one true judge, and that’s God  so chill, and let my Father do his work. side note (please insert whoever your God or Higher Power etc, with the Salt and Pepper rhyme,    do not turn my last sentence into a religious debate   ..xo)

1) The Food Police.

I was the captain of this squad a few times in my life and it’s a  miserable SkinnyBitch journey. I don’t want to eat like a caveman, I choose civilization. I don’t want to hear about your macros, I eat from intuition from a healthy mind-body connection. This may include a Bomb-ass-leafy-green-mack-daddied avacado-oed-nut-jobbed salad and other days it may be maple bacon chips. I like my lower ab pooch. In fact, I used to help my son learn to spell the word – absorb-. I kept saying “My abs have an Orb”. I have a 2 pack over a pooch and it’s unique. I like grains and dairy. If you like grains and dairy, eat them unless A DOCTOR WITH A MEDICAL DEGREE HAS DIAGNOSISED YOU WITH AN FREAKING FOOD ALLERGY.
P.S.A =. Anything in excess is bad for you, even kale.

Yes. America has a love affair with processed foods but if you truly want to assist people or need guidance in your health journey , avoid sanctimonious lectures of sensationalism sprinkled with shock and awe cupcake jimmies.

2) People who have zero respect for healthy boundaries.

The people who manipulate and bring guilt coupled with self-pity as a response to the answer : “No”.
Think Kathy Bates from Misery, she clearly missed Oprah’s class on healthy boundaries. Or Rosamund  Pike from Gone Girl for a more contemporary  example.

3) Uber-Ass-Social Media Posts.

I  have ZERO DESIRE to see your butt cheeks and their bouffant-buoyancy in direct correlation with the three-hour squat session at the gym. America is obessed with “dat-azz” and apparently  it needs to be plastered all over social media from your local gym. Too much ass is never a good thing. ☺

4) Unsolicited  Parental Advice.

Imparted wisdom from the Moms who think “they know best”. If a child’s behavior , (or whatever the hell else parents debate via the comments section on facebook  these days )  DOES NOT AFFECT YOUR CHILDREN,  avoid the ‘def-com-WW3-super-mom-thesis’ on the subject .

Also – side note- DONT READ THE COMMENTS SECTION ON ANY VACCINATION -BLOGS or you will weep deeply for humanity.

5) People who think their Political Opinions are FACTS.

6) Unhealthy mind-set.

We have to feel our feelings and we have to express our emotions  but we do not have to tolerate negative “self-talk.” You are betraying your growth when you push your emotions to the dark side. (yes… like Darth, he really needed positive self-talk-book-on-tapes for the Death Star; before he burned up planets and shit …)

We all have the choice to get help for our anger. There are loads of free services for you if you live in constant disparity , sadness and “flip-your-shit rage.” I work on this one daily.

7) Poor self-care.

Taking care of yourself  is the BIGGEST gift you can give to yourself and your loved ones. Society confuses  self-care with selfishness. Do not listen to the voices or the people who tell you to sacrifice self -care FOR ANYTHING.

8) People who do not see the humor in life.

Run. Sprint. Hide. Honestly,  when I was flat-out “broken” by life,  my sister  said one thing that made me scratch my way back out of my hole. “The saddest thing for me, honey, is that you lost your sense of humor and the seriousness of life has destroyed your light”. Yes, life is serious, but if you are blocked from the spark, the laughter,  the beauty – binge watch any of the following:
Big Bang Theory
Modern Family
The Goldberg
Fresh of the Boat

or read my blogs. I’m hysterical.

9) Road Ragers.

(metaphorically as well) The world is dangerous (if you don’t have those boundaries! !:)) and there is nothing to gain by engaging with a madman. /or woman if I am to be politically correct. Think Rosamund Pike again because her persona exists and she probably drives a meticulously clean volvo.

10) Excess.

If you never feel mentally full, take time to relish in the memories or be present  or find a happy scent or go hug a puppy. Of course, we all want to live a comfortable life with the blessings of modern day society (remember self-care!!) but check yourself before you purchase that 17th pair of shoe-boot sandals or the 25th pair of “ripped” vintage  jeans because holey jeans and holey boots won’t fill emotional holes. ( and they are extremely impractical and polarzing in various climates. They have an identity crisis. )

Mental health is the foundation for all other health in your body.

peace & love -now go practice one small self -care action!!

Based on this title, you are probably are saying to yourself, “Why do you have a Word-Press account if this is what writing feels like to you?”  I  do not know the answer. I know I LOVE writing. I know that my husband calls me the “computer murderer” so sufficed to say, the “dream-phone-analogy” answer lies between those two answers.   At this very moment, I googled “HOW DO USE SPELL CHECK ON A EFFIN’ SURFACE PRO” and “HOW DO USE SPELL CHECK ON FREAKIN’ WORD PRESS”.  apostrophes and all.

I  love writing. I talked to a close friend yesterday and she asked me what would be the best compliment you could ever receive from someone, and I answered “They “got” my writing, not that they LOVED it, but they “get” my flow, man.”  Again, I do not take any type of feedback well (including compliments) because I over think EVERY-WORD; therefore,  anytime, anyone gives me advice, I search for the underlining meaning, like Nicholas Cage on a Treasure Map Hunt, hence my permanent Nick-Cage wrinkle betwixt my eyebrows.  We also texted later about the subject of writing and we both agreed that Word-press was a damn heart-breaker. Her text was “word press will make you cry”.  I have ended up red-faced, flushed in a puddle of tears boo-hooing over both WordPress and iTunes or any kind of curfufffledschmuffled program.  I take their incessant need to constantly challenge that technically dormant part of my brain to a personal level.  I think I tried to engage iTtunes in a street fight one day.

Please ask me how many books I have ordered from Amazon about how to write a book or how to effectively navigate through word press and I will tell you more than one is too many for this OCD_ADHD raddled technology delinquent brain. I do keep a hand written journal  but I consistently maintained a C- or lower in “hand-writing” during the elementary years.  Last night I just wrote one word sentences in my journal, in the dark because I read a blog on how any kind of light before bed makes it more difficult to fall asleep and of course anything you read on the internet is 100 percent true and accurate and should be applied to your life IMMEDIATELY.

I have written entire stories in my brain while falling asleep, I am constantly “writing” thoughts throughout the day, through my contorted facial movements.  Apparently, the current terminology for “writing thoughts” is affectionately called “resting-bitch-face”, and I may be ground zero for RBF.  Twitter is a fabulous place to practice concise-contorted-facial-movement-writing-RBF-thoughts and if you are fairly obscure and do not have a ton of followers, you are in no inherent danger of starting a “twitter-war” or an media-maggedeon because you tweeted something that virtually offended someone via the cyber-sphere.

I think the most difficult challenge for me in writing every day is I do not transition well between tasks and I might be slightly addicted to sticky-note ‘to do’list. (think Gone Girl MINUS the money and the crazy-hot-bitch-psychosis). Let me give you a head-dialogue example of my brain when it comes to writing and parenting. ( Side note, I am extremely impressed with bloggers who publish a blog-post on a consistent basis because my brain is like a snap-dragon firework (not the Katy Perry Firework kind) when it comes to transitioning between “WHO SPIT THE MOUTHWASH AIMED AT THE LIGHT FIXTURE?”  and “ok, lets PICK one of my 873 writing “ideas” in this file and churn out a blog.  )

Dialogue in my brain:

“Ok! kids on the bus! wow didn’t I just vacuum 33 seconds ago?”

“How many chunks of food do I need to actually throw in trash can or can I jam them in the rechargeable vacuum stick?”

“What is that smell? oh, yes laundry, let me get started on the smelly pile first”

“Alarm! Alarm! Alarm! Alarm”  with the words WRITE BOOK”

“What does this sticky note say?  I think I need to re-write and re-post in a more prominent place so I will actually ‘wash the windows this spring” (yes, wash windows by spring – is on a sticky note., on my fridge..)

….desperately-clinging-to my-youth-Beastie-Boys-ring-tone-on-my-colossal-technologically-advanced-smartphone that I am unable  locate ….” oh no!!!, is the school calling?..on CRAP-DRAGON where is my phone”

and so on and whence-forth.

The dialogue in my brain as it pertains to actual writing is  complicated.  It’s filled with self-doubt, ego, confidence, happiness, sadness, peace, butterflies, dragons, George Takei facebook posts, oceans of emotion, and the most evil of all kryptonite to writers, comparison. I am human. Yes, I compare myself to other people. Other moms. Other writers. Other Professionals.  Other people who seem to have their shit so tight that you just want to grab their smart phone and shuffle around their appointments and yell “YO! YOU HAVE BEEN PUNK’D”.

I KNOW ,I KNOW, no-one truly has it all together. In fact I avoid the  “perfectly put together”  persona as much as I conversely avoid hot-messes of drama and high-maintenance persona. I have made tremendous strides in my self-acceptance and catapulted from the comparison trampoline with resplendent careless abandonment more so in my forties, than I ever even DREAMED of in the my teens and twenties.One of the biggest perks of aging is  a exquisite, priceless subscription to “No-f&^%s-given-monthly”* which I welcome with open arms.

In closing, I am content this very minute with where I am in my “writing journey”. I love to read my journal and laugh so hard that I cry because I would be a lobotomized zombie of driveled doom and depressive gloom if I lost the ability to laugh at myself.   The other day I read a passage in which I wrote “Dear God, please help me find two forks to put in my eye at this v’ery moment”  (I was testing out a Cheerleader phase with my daughter and I was a cheerleader in high school so I should be more tolerant)> Thankfully, she likes dance more and I love her dance place, it’s a forkless-in-the-eye atmosphere sans any kind of bye-felicia-talk-to-the-hand-dance-mom-drama.

The great friend I had lunch with the other day  reminds me  “I AM ENOUGH”. She may not say it to me directly or daily, but through actions, her interactions with other women, the way she approaches her life, her writing , raising her kids, her faith, – she teaches me to be  kind to myself , especially when it comes to the passion I have for writing and THAT IS ENOUGH.

Caveat, As I was finishing this blog I yelled “you bring this wrath upon yourselves” in reference to me having to put the game controllers on top of the TV and shut down mine-craft.

* footnote, I stole the “No f*&% given monthly” phrase from the Daily Show with Jon Stewart

If Facebook were woman TEXTING

1) did u see at that lump pic text? SHOULD I SEE A DR?

2) My meal is FANTASTIC, see!! steak-crab-cake-flamin-fusion with a lime-mint-jollyrancher blueberry-choclate-acai-gogi Berry-TINI. It’s FULL of antioxidants.

3)HI! I ATE A PIECE OF KALE! It tasted like a Carmel MACCHIATO, & I LOST 3 LBS & ran 16 miles.

4) IM SO BLOATED. IM GOING to my Zumbatasticstrength CROSSFITish GymACROBATIX..YOGAPILATESWIM class. YOU know when  PINK flies through the air ON ROPES and shit. We do all that while in water so it’s easy on the knees and an AMAZING core workout.

5) I ATE half a bag of chips but they were NOT GMO  modified so it doesn’t count as calories. Did YOU GET THE 56 EMAILs on GMO I TEXTED YOU directly FROM OPRAH.

6) I TEXTED YOU 670 pics of Golden GLOBE FASHION DISASTERS. AND never heard from you. I’m very upset and Journaling.

7) passive agressive cryptic story. sigh. “”What SHOULD I DO???

8) DO YOU LIKE THESE JEANS I FOUND AT FOREVER21 with CUT HOLES in the THIGH & HIP area and strategically placed holes in the knees.

9) WHY HAVE not YOU JOINED THIS MOVEMENT TO END injustices OF OUR WORLD? I sent you 678000866 evites!!!

10) I DECIDED TO GIVE PINTREST A STAB and craft, decorate and practice zen stuff. I have pinned 678, 000,000 tp my 6000 boards. LET”S DO THIS PINTREST 2015

11) I hate Pintrest.

Weather in Georgia. For the day.

“where are my flip flops??”

“hats. we all need big fluffy hats today”

“will someone PLEASE open the windows?”

“my feet are FREEZING, honey will you fetch me some socks from the singles, sock pile. I’m too cold to get up or try to match socks.”

“I’m sweating from my eyelashes again!!”

“everyone!! quick by the fire’s like that scene from “The Day After Tommorrow” (you know, the movie with Jake Gyllenhaal, before he turned into a kind of scary but still kinda cute & sweet, actor) where they all have to burn books and snuggle to stay warm.”

“Why am I sneezing?? Is something blooming ??”

“What?? It’s going to be 84 on Christmas? Have you seen my toes and legs? Honey ! get the chainsaw and sanding machine out of the garage please.”

“Where are my LL Bean layers?? the windchill could possibly make my skin flaky.”

“Ok, pack summer and winter clothes for holiday travels because Mee Maw and Pee Paw keep the heat on 99, so changing outfits are not a problem”.

“Let me hold the baby, they are warm, wait a second…where are you going, are those tickets to Cabo?”

“Where is the umbrella? Yes I know I just asked for my sunglasses. ”

“I am really wrestling over the decision on whether to wear Uggs or Flip flops on Black Friday. I’ll draft s survey for my friends Facebook for assistance in outfit decision making ”

“Snow in the forecast. Now is NOT the time to go gluten-free. WE MUST HUNT DOWN ALL THE BREAD (WITH EXTRA GLUTEN)  IN THE METRO ATLANTA AREA”

“Wait. What is the logical purpose of an open-toed-shboot (shoe-boot-sandal) with heels?? , oh yes,  these were designed specifically for Atlantonians”

We all have bad habits.  My worst habit (right now)  is thinking that if I “miss” something on my phone , the world might implode, as though, I’m an omnipotent-phone-puppet master.  There are some amazing benefits of smart phones, that have helped me tremendously in my life  I simply need to make a few tweaks for balance:

I absorb EVERYTHING as though it is directed at me personally that I need to change in my life. 15 pack abs?  Gifted writing skillzzz? Poetry slam master? Home Business Mogul? Super Mom Pintrest Planner? Kick box Dancing Runner? Yoga-Pilates-Yoda-Mind-Bender? Motivational Speaker who can Rap the Psalms?  Traveling Comedian Nurse to terminally ill patients? Doctors without Borders WHO CREATE Peaceful borders through their Martha-Stewar- Dali- Lammad approach to packing perfect  Bento lunches?


Ask my husband how many “seminars” I have asked to purchase or how many “careers” I have pursued in our blissful 11 years of marriage. He may have to pull out a counting machine thingy .

You are probably thinking:

a) “You have a God Complex”
b) “You have  ADD”
c) “You need to get a job”
d) “Wow! I am exactly like you”
e) “Here is the number to my shrink”
f) “Have you tried Zoloft?”
g) “Oh Snap! My Kohls Cash EXPIRES TODAY”

Honestly, they are probably all true except I already used my Kohls cash as I had 56 reminders on my phone and 670 sticky notes on my fridge.   Additionally, I  do have many ‘jobs’ and I am never, ever, ever bored.  You will never hear me utter those words “I Am bored”. Have you read my blogs?

For the most part B) (ADD)  trumps most of my “bad” habits. However B) also trumps my good habits and stimulates my creativity AND I’M  convinced I’m the #1 rated sitcom in Heaven based on how I go about my daily tasks. I KNOW! , for certain God is not going to discontinue programming on my ADD, because He is roaring with raucous laughter  and it makes me, ME I’m freaking hysterical, just simply waking up in the morning.:)

I’m so incredibly tired of feeling like I need to be “fixed”. I’m tired of feeling guilty for having severe ADD (I have been tested,  it’s off the charts ).  I REFUSE to use any of my defects, ailments or ADD as a crutch or an excuse for accomplishing my own individual goals. One of which is to write a damn book. I say damn because I have stopped and started for some many innocuous reasons,and it causes me to say “damn” a lot

I do not want to be cured, scanned or medicated. (I do take Zoloft because I have tried life with out it and let’s say, I would be in my bed in a ball of tears or running a marathon every week, without it’s presence in my body, and I am a FIRM believer of pharmaceutical medicine and it’s benefits when it’s used to help people feel emotionally, physically and mentally healthy NOT to mask and drown symptoms like a cheap bandaid)

I digress. My point is, I’m done looking for the “fix” in my phone or thinking that I could “break” someone or something right away if I don’t respond to their text/VM/FB post inbox etc etc etc IMMEDIATLELY ! I AM Enough without my phone and I am not going to change the world through my phone. I can however, bring love, light, inspiration and laughter to people with the aid of my phone if I find the proper balance.

Everyone in the diet/health industry is on this 21-25 day restart/reset/redo program. I think the concept is fabulous because social science dictates that it takes 23 days to make or break a habit (I literally pulled that last sentence out of my a$$, because I am not going to get distracted with Google right now :)). I learned it somewhere, probably from Google, so therefore, it’s true.

My solution  is as follows:

For 23 days, here is my, SIMPLE, 3 step plan:
A) Check Phone in am – 1x for alarm, weather AND NOT CHECK AGAIN UNTIL 10 ( UNLESS C) OCCURS)
B) Pick 2 x a day to respond to texts /gmails/calls/FB etc. yikes. maybe 3, 10AM , 2PM, 9PM
C) Put ringer on daily , so I don’t have to “check” to see if school called about the children  and get sucked in to see what celebrity lost how many pounds while  taking what crazy fruit/seed/hcgglutenfree extract while holding their breath with sugar on their nose for 21 days.

I somewhat recognize the Irony of this post; however like I said, I’m trying to focus on the postive of the smart phone /social media influence; rather than ‘bashing it’ or quitting it all together.

Thanks for your time! Now go check your Kohls Cash!!!

The inspiration from this blog is from Baby Sideburns most recent blog She’s a brave soul, I think of her as the Joan Rivers of Momhood.  She says what a lot of people are thinking but too afraid to say out loud, including myself.  I applaud her bravery and b^%$ack.

It does seem like a monsoon  of Lily Pulitzer photo shoots and families who cut sugar out of their diets as a way to protect their children from this cocaine like substance* on the internet in general (not just social media) .  When I start to compare and question, I turn to writing and humor. It helps.  Here is my ‘tell all’ of the week to allow people to breath and bond with those of us who still feel like we are trying to find ourselves in a myriad of sculpted gym-selfies and Moms holding their quintuplets over their heads like barbells while making gluten-soy-dairy-ingredient-free-granola bars by using their actual washboard abs as washboards to wash the steel-cut oats and cutting the oats with their triceps-of-steel muscles. ALL WHILE using the low-glycemic-core-burning-vegan-paleo-raw molasses they collected from the Organic farm 500 miles away THAT THEY collected on their bike with their babies behind them in BOB Bike-chariots.**

( My son’s language art teacher should use this paragraph as an example of a reedunklous-compound-delcarative-sarcastic sentence!!! or imperative?)

1). In the show The Goldbergs, Murray, the father figure comes home and takes off his pants as soon as he walks in the door.   I do this with my bra, pretty much anytime I am in the house.  If “company” arrives, I have headlight covers and if I can not find them, I use other things like band aids and right now at this very minute I have panty-liners on my boobs.   I mean, what actually ‘counts’ as a brassiere?   I’m blessed that the twins are less than average so I don’t have to worry about the panty-liners performing the service of preventing back pain. ( I know that’s not “their” service..I hope you get the point.)

2) My son is not sick and I used my ‘Mom-stinct” to keep him home from school based on mental health.  Gasp if you want too.  In fact, I JUST said “Hey kid, snatch me up one of dem Chobanis and bring it up to yo Momma”. I guess it’s better than asking him to get me a bottle of Mad-dog? Oh yes for all you “Bless her heart she’s a hot mess” commenters,,, He’s playing Minecraft too. Maybe even Call of Duty.  Get over it. (PS I had to get my own Chobani. Pray for me).

3) I re-wash laundry and dishes so I don’t have to “deal with it” right now.

4) I absolutely cannot fold and put away clothes if the floors or toilets are dirty. I don’t care about dust or even the counters…. It’s extremely bizarre. I am sure if you googled on WEBMD there would be a disorder for this type of behavior. Like the loophole in OCD? Maybe OCD for medicricity? OH yes, “MEDI-OCD-RITY DISORDER”   = the ability to get some isht done while talking about  what you did not get done while referring to the isht you did get done on a daily basis.

5) Sometimes, if I’m feeling particularly downtrodden, I become engulfed in blogs/articles about celebrities, who are not ‘nice people’ in real life. I read one about Justin Timberlake  and then I got really really sad and ‘let down’ as though I would expect him to be “down to earth” after ACTUALLY BRINGING SEXY BACK TO US!    As long as the Jimmyies (Fallon and Kimmel) stay cool, bro. I also just read a horrific article about Christopher Columbus. He  was not a nice person at all (according to this article) STOP. Do not Google. He’s dead. It’s already a holiday. Unless someone in government agrees to swap Columbus  Day out with Anderson Cooper Silver Fox day, I am not interested in fighting that fight. (in my book Anderson Cooper really should get the credit for bringing sexy back).

6) I like to drink a large carbonated beverage really fast to see how long and loud I can burp.  I am insanely jealous of people who can burp songs. Oh what I would do to be able to burp the lyrics to “Sexy Back.” or burp the news with Anderson Cooper.

7) I do not like Taylor Swift’s music.  I would rather listen to Glenn Beck predict the end of the world through a megaphone in my ear while I am trying to go to sleep.

8) Sometimes when I hear lyrics from rappers who talk about being able to “set a cup on dat bootie”, I am insanely jealous of   this built-in convenience.  I could eat a entire bowl of cereal on my belly, standing-up while pregnant, and that was the best part of both my pregnancies.  I have no shame in saying, Peas in da Pod Maternity Shop did not ask me to model for them because of my incessant pregnancy glow and demeanor.  I waddled and ‘Swole up’ like a bad batch of botox.  My feet permanently grew 1/2 inch.

9) Some people say ADHD is a myth. It doesn’t exist. It’s a excuse for procrastination.  Oh my loves, you have not met me.  I have tried medicines. Not eating sugar. Not eating. Eating. Drinking =(which did help, but NOT a solution) Yoga. Roga. Moga. Loga. Lola. I have tried it all. Yes, certain things help with this part of my life, but I ABSOLUTELY do not use it as an excuse, I see it as a gift because it does spark creativity and maybe a way to help other people.  Although, my husband may see it as a minor annoyance when it’s like an episode of the Sixth Sense in the mornings with every cupboard is wide-open from here to kingdom come and back. I do not see dead people though. Well I see Columbus in a different light now after that article, but I digress.

10) Summer is my least favorite season. I am not a huge fan of “lounging by the pool”.  I would much rather be in a hammock, wrapped up in a blanket on a cloudy day reading Stephen Colbert’s “I am America and so can YOU” burping and drinking seltzer water flavored with Skinny Girl Acai Blueberry mix-in (non alcoholic).   Oh and I don’t care for the term ‘Skinny Girl” but dayum, she made a good flavor thingy for waters!

Bonus:  The majority of spills, burn marks (before you judge, no it’s not cigarettes, I set the lizards’ heat lamp on the rug BEFORE the timer went off and forgot about it, until I smelled it three rooms away) and accidents on the carpet are from me running around sloshing my coffee every which way but in the cup AND I lose my coffee cup once a day, so there is usually 1 or 2 cups of 1/2 filled coffee cups anywhere at any given time.

*I am being facetious. For those who are new to my blog, I am mostly facetious. I do not think sugar is like cocaine but according to Katie Couric, it is like cocaine and Katie Couric is kind of the Vice President to Oprah so….

**(which by the way, we tried this, and neither my husband or I lasted a mile, kudos to those who run or bike with their babies in rickshaws)


I feel like my brain is in this perpetual world of trying to find myself. A writer?  A blogger?  A stream of conscious writer-murderer?  A compound-sentence destroyer?  A mother? A wife? A sister?  A daughter?   A maid?  A laundry avoid-er?* A celebrity factoid expert? A closet wanna-be-back-up dancer for Missy Elliot? A Nae Nae-dance-you-tube-watcher?

I know it’s all about balance , but the internet and “advice columns” and the such, make you feel like their is something wrong with you if your not chasing success driven opportunities like a thirteen year old chasing down the band members of One Direction.  We all can’t be elite or at the top of our game all day, everyday; yet society will not let you get away at thinking this simple thought even for a second.

For me, success  is doing something everyday to help people feel better about themselves  through my writing and  daily interactions. (even if it’s a tiny act of kindness) ..  And maybe try to knock out the ‘Nae Nae’ from time to time when I finally do get around to folding and putting away laundry.  Above all, I absolutely chase a sense of inner peace completely absent of anxiety,  more than I chase society’s definition of success. True serenity crashes  against the grain of  today’s modern woman.  Therefore, there is this perpetual tug of war in my brain “to get it all done, SON” and “Its OK to hit the wrinkle shield button several times”

Through my daily readings/ interactions and even from myself, I find one common theme, especially with woman.  We are failing at something. ( our weight, our bodies, our career, our marriage, our life , our eating habits)  or they are working so hard to keep it all together and stay fifty steps ahead of everyone else that they do not seem to have time to enjoy life or a bowl of ice cream without feeling guilty because they have ingested  “empty calories”. – (Whoever came up with the term ’empty calories???’)

I find that when there is insurmountable pressure to be the best or act our best 100% of the time, this carves the way for some very dark, lonely days with the shades drawn like a vampire, eating ice cream and feeling guilty because you did not choose the bowl of  undressed super food kale. (I had a lady verbally give me the recipe for an OIL FREE dressing that she puts on her Kale , I was like WHAT IS THE POINT?, but I smiled and nodded because I know all to well the feeling of trying to stay inside the rigid guidelines of what a 43 woman should or should not enjoy for food  on a daily basis.)

In this journey of trying to find MYSELF, my purpose in life, I have decided that my two  goals in writing especially, is to   1) make people LAUGH  2) inspire people to feel enough with who they are at the core (this does not mean “never change”, this means inspire people to accept their strengths and their flaws and make changes to improve their overall mental and physical health as THEY HAVE decided, not decided by society).

Lists of 5 or 10 things do well in the blogging sphere because it helps center people on certain topics that they can relate too individually or pull them together in commonality.   Without further ado, Here are ten funny “things” that have happened lately to invoke laughter  and inspire you to be yourself, laugh at yourself and not beat yourself up for making mistakes or being less than perfect:

My husband and I went to NYC with some friends. It was awesome (I would write a travel blog on my adventures, but (a) I do not do well at loading pictures( b) I am not a travel blogger, and you would be asleep by now). …BUT I do like to tell funny stories about traveling so my first 6 funnies will be from this trip:

  1. I did not even blink or bat an eye in confusion when my friend suggested that we visit Alcatraz when we visited the Statue of Liberty.  And I have been to San Fran. So I should know that Alcatraz is not on the East Coast. I was like “OMG LET”S DO THAT!”
  2. It was in the mid 80s (end of September) and even though I checked the weather, I still brought coats, boots and heavy sparkly jeans.  I was hot. I made a hurried purchase at Express for cooler clothes, while the sales clerk sold me tons of stuff I did not need to stay cool for the next 24 hours, then I saw the look of “WTF ARE YOU DOING?” on my husband’s face and returned it all to the same sales clerk who was like “WTF ARE YOU DOING! YOU CRAZY TOURIST?”
  3. I love scones and I love NYC bakeries. Hell, I love bakeries.  I was on a 24/7 mission to eat a scone at every bakery we walked past daily.  And we walked a lot.
  4. I love Falafel.  I kept saying “OMG I have got to get some Falafel from one of the street food vendors.  But I was too full from eating scones every 35.5 seconds.  So I come home form NYC and buy everything to make Falafel.
  5. I bought so many baked goods at a bakery that the New Yorker behind me asked if I was going on a picnic.
  6. I HAD to go running in Central Park just to say “I ran in Central Park!”.  Even though my feet hurt and  it felt like Georgia and I can run in the hot humid sun anytime I want in Georgia, I just had to go running in Central park. I barely made one mile and I was like “WTF ARE WE DOING?                      —————————————————————-Since I have been back from New York, here are funny mishaps:
  7. I left my journal at a pizza joint this week OVERNIGHT before I remembered the next day.  I literally said (when I called to see if it was there) “I hope you guys didn’t sit around reading it.”  Like I am a celebrity or something.
  8. Our orthodontics payment came out as “cash withdrawal” in a far away land and I PANICKED , and most certainly tried to convince the bank operator that someone was siphoning money from our account before she asked “Is there  someone in your house who may have braces?”   ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.   Ok.
  9. I find that when I separate laundry, my categories have changed from the generic, lights, whites and other colors to “extremely smelly and dirty,”to “kind of dirty and smelly too”, “yes indeed, this pile can wait another week”
  10. When I get irritated, frustrated the song “Momma said Knock you Out” (LL COOL J)  pops into my head and I am instantly calmed.  I just hope the Dali Lama approves of this mediation tactic.

Bonus.  I have the windows open and the air conditioning on and our downstairs closet door will not close because it’s full of flip flops and closed-toed-shoes.  October is a confusing month.




*   (apparently I had to make up the word avoid-er ecause the proper noun for a person who avoids things does not exist? or does it?  I googl-ed “noun for avoiding things” and I broke Google. I guess googl-ed is not a word either.  Maybe I should work for Websters and help beam new words from the annals of crazy suburban blogging into being.


Seriously, if you could walk inside my brain you would be like “OMG. I HATE ROLLER COASTERS”. It’s REALLY busy in there.   I look forward to sleep because it means I am able to stop my brain from circling around like a tornado. I know deep in my soul I am a “writer” because I am always talking to myself, fighting with myself, directing myself, or having full blown debates WITH MYSELF on whether or not I have pushed the wrinkle shield on the dryer four or five times today.   Due  to the summer and “mom life”, I have been seriously side tracked like that runaway train in Unstoppable. I am NOT complaining.  The best way to describe what I am feeling right now can be explained as follows (especially to women because we seem to struggle with this scenario more than men):

  • You get a normal rhythm going with moderate healthy eating and exercise (I say moderate because I tend to get all obsessive about these things and moderation is really the only way I can stay sane)
  • Something happens (the eclipse. Kayne Marries Kim.  You get sidetracked with a debate on whether Beyonce is “all dat” or not, or you get sick..You know lifey stuff
  • The “hiccup of derailment”  catapults into days. weeks. month. You start eating cheetos for breakfast.  You count the “Insanity” Info-Mercial as “exercise”.

You get my point.  Once you get off that routine, you start psyching yourself out to STAY OFF because you are pissed at yourself for getting off in the first place and then you just let the “hiccup of derailment” become  a paralysis of production.  This is precisely what has occurred with my writing.  Yes, I have been  updated my journal but lets face it guys, I can’t even read what I wrote.   One of my entries is as follows:

Roman Numeral 56:  August 24th, Sprayed shower head outside of the shower. mess.  exercise ball bust tread. difficulty “ganning”?  thots.

I will spare you poor souls who are trapped reading my stream of consciousness writing, by not transcribing any more of my journal entries. (You want to stop reading my blog, but you just cannot stop, I’m like a four hour Lifetime movie)  Let me translate:  On August 24th,  I became misguided with which shower-turning-apparatus to utilize and the detachable shower-head was pointing out beyond the shower door. Needless to say, I was on the inverted loop part of my roller coaster brain and rather than JUST TURNING THE SHOWER OFF, I took way to long to reach up (on my tippie tippie toes because I’m vertically challenged) to BARELY commence the cessation of Niagara Falls onto my bathroom floor.  Additionally, my son felt it would be a fabulous idea to put the exercise-ball on the treadmill and hit ZOOM, in which it got trapped under treadmill and exploded. I will say , I had to hide my laughter when telling him that these are not appropriate extra curricular activities in the the basement.  My friend of four high spirited children responded with a “ROFL” text when I told her this story.

Do you know how many emails I have sent to myself to be filed under my gmail label “Writing ideas”? SIX HUNDRED TWENTY!!!  and the majority of these ideas were in the last couple of months. Writing prompts are my Kryptonite because I am a WALKING WRITING PROMPT!   I also thought it would be a fabulous idea to FIND writing contests to enter in an effort to feel like a more “productive writer”.   I think that last sentence was uttered out loud to my   husband which triggered a “head in his hands head shake” and the exclamation  “FOR THE LOVE OF MANKIND!! JUST FREAKING WRITE LAURIE!”

I am a solution oriented person. Yes it takes me a little bit longer to find a solution but I’m a scrappie, determined fighter, mixed with a philosophical-debating-furrowed-brow chromosome where my thoughts go to war with each other like the dudes from that movie 300.  (Apparently the latter of that sentence is now referred to as “RBF or Resting Bitch Face”, which I find HYSTERICAL because there is no guesswork in pinpointing when I am lost in my thoughts).    I do not want to say “I’m too smart for my own good”, because as referenced above from the  Suburban-Mom-Psycho-incident , that clearly isn’t the case.  In an effort to stay in the solution, I am going to list  acitivies that I will STOP doing immediately deter me from writing:

  • Reading the comments section on controversial blog topics  – People seem to take out their repressed child hood anger on bloggers via the  comment sections. I have had nightmares of an angry polemicist finding my blog and slicing me to pieces  with his/her verbal mastery.
  • Reading the comments section on high-profile Facebook posts/topics –  I am scared for all mankind and I feel like building a bunker and going into hiding after such an activity.
  • Googling “Does Kelly Ripa Eat Carbs”
  • Comparing myself to other MOMS.
  • Watching the “Anaconda” video and weeping like a baby because Sir Mix A Lot’s “Baby Got Back” has been forever ruined, and probably won’t be played at my retirement home in twenty five years.
  • Staring at my 620 writing prompts and saying “eff-it I just do not even know where to START,  omg, Sea-Salt-Gelato sounds so good right now!”
  • Taking Vanilla Ice’s  prose literally:  “If there is a problem, yo I’ll solve it” in thinking I can and need to solve the world’s problems, ESPECIALLY on Facebook (blog about my Facebook hiatus later..) tragedies  unfold at an alarming pace in our world and I absorb it ALL.
  • Obsessively cleaning.  I have to find a balance between “eff-it” and “Mommie Dearest episodes of the Clorox Rave party”
  • “Am I a good writer?” NEEDS to be eliminated from my thought process and from my vernacular


And No, I am not drinking.







let me break it down: 
1) Armageddon of arts, crafts & !$@## . this pic doesn’t do it justice. I dumped it all downstairs & hubby turned on a Mark Wahlberg movie THEN he cut me off from  Markie mark because I was just sitting in a pile of art supplies with my mouth gaped open watching tv.
2) a lonely bin of crafty crafts that will not stay like this.
3) the door to this cabinet used to be the door to an episode of hoarders.
4) all the misc &^/#! that needs a home.
5) games in the coffee table container thingy majig that annoys me ,  due to its massive size versus lack of functionality & the fact that my kids hide their vitamins and trash in it.
the end.

I find myself stopping a blog or discontinuing or not publishing because I am never quite sure how much information I should delve out there on the internet.   I think the struggle for me in writing (and in life) is with my indecisive nature and the good news it’s fueled some Jerry McGuire moments where I am up at 3 am the past few mornings because my brain jolts awake and will NOT turn off.   
What do we do when our brain WILL NOT TURN OFF? 
Listed below are the 10 decisions or what I like to call “Projectile Vomiting into the future Incidents” that I am churning over in my head like a gerbil. at 3 am.

1)  What if I do not protect my children from the evils of the world and bad things happen to my family. I have “gerbalized” every scenario. (New word – gerbalize or gerbalizing is worrisome thoughts running around in one’s head on a gerbil wheel. Webster, come get me!).    I am strangely fascinated with the Final Destination movies, and I have seen #1 and #25  (aren’t there like 500 out already) and I have come to the conclusion I should NOT watch movies about FREAK accidents and Death as a  Stalker.

2) HOW many extra curricular activities should I sign my kids up for during the school year and how many  _______ Mommies am I willing to deal with in this process? Essentially, it is all about MY comfort levels right? (insert sarcasm) Does catapulting off the sofa and ripping the cushions out by their seams count as a sport?  Does putting chocolate milk into a WATER GUN and squirting it all over the walls and floor count as a sport? (in my defense, I was not home, my husband was on conference calls, and I was like: “WITH WHO? DR DRE? AND YOUR NOISE CANCELLING DRE BEATS? BC WE BETTER HAVE BEEN BROKERING A 4 BILLION DOLLAR DEAL TO HAVE IGNORED THE CHOCOLATE MILK APOCALYPSE!!!”

3) Have you seen the Goldbergs?  Well I find myself saying things like Mrs Goldberg when it comes to the “protection” of my children.  These are  are from the “memory recall” part of my brain, which is not all “ginkobiloabed” properly:
a)  On wrestling: “Did you hear about ________, he had a wrestling accident and now he is just a head on a ventilator”

b) On Halloween: “Don’t forget to bring all your candy to the hospital so we can have it x-ray’d for razor blades”

Yes, these are eerily similar to the things that come out of my mouth.   My son has pretty much told the entire neighborhood that I am the most overprotective Mom in THE WORLD.

4) I don’t know if this is a reason but it’s kind of what started this whole blog in a way. Yesterday, I took my daughter to a cheer-leading place to see what is was all about. I was a cheerleader for a small rural High School and I kind of got into all that from an athletic standpoint, but cheering in the rural North versus cheer-leading near the perimeter of Atlanta, Georgia are like  meditative Yoga versus Olympic style Cross-Fit.   All I can say is I came home and ate a giant bowl of pasta like a Mob Boss because I was so stressed out after that experience.  I do not feel, as a family, we are ready for that level of commitment due in part to the   “contract wording”:   “Your child must be awaiting transport of an iron lung from IRON MAN himself (or the other guy who plays IRON MAN)  if she/he is to miss practice”.

5) Due to # 4, I decided that “Intro to Gymnastics” was probably a better place to start.  Well , I spent like 5467098 hours on the internet trying to finagle my way through the various schedules in conjunction with my stay at ‘home-mom-bon bon-eating’ schedule. I just counted, I sent FIVE, emails  the the poor gymnastics people which openings like this “Wait, we can’t do Mondays because of this?” or “Oh ooops I made a mistake we can do Mondays”?    or “No wait, we can’t do Monday’s, can you call me I’m really confused about the schedule”.

6) Seriousness.  I know deep down inside 95% percent of my anxiety over raising children and all of this is due to me trying to protect my children from the “bad things” that happened in my childhood.  We all have baggage and unresolved dysfunction from our upbringing, and all I really want to do is use my experiences, (good and bad), to provide the best possible childhood for my children and I guess I try to do this (sometimes..) without making ANY mistakes.

7)  Ok, so being so ridiculously “self aware” at age 42 to the point that my husband reaches for his cigars every time I try to “feel my feelings” appropriately, I recognize that #6 may have spurred me into a bit of a “I FELL LIKE THE WEIGHT OF THE FREE WORLD IS ON MY SHOULDERS!!” phone conversation with my husband last night.   Thankfully my husband is very level-headed and does a great job in making me realize that I’m not making life or death decisions and I just “NEED TO CALM THE EFF DOWN ITS NOT THAT SERIOUS!!”

8) My son just got this   mouth-spacer-head-contraption-head-robot type thing in which I have to attach to his mouth nightly (well they said daily too when he’s on the computer or watching tv)  and remember to turn a key into the spacer-contraption-thingy so it widens his jaw, and now I have 54895175094128745091274 reminders on my phone, calendar, sticky notes, etc in which to do so. daily. “BUT WHAT IF I FORGET AND HE DOES NOT HAVE PERFECT TEEEEEEEEEEEEETHHHHHH.”

9) I was trying to calculate “something” last night and my phone (the calculator) was upstairs which was far too strenuous to fetch; THEREFORE, I proceeded to write a long division problem out on a piece of scratch paper and realized that I basically forgotten how to complete long division and long multiplication (is that even a thing??) and when I did go to find my phone, it was on top of their college saving statements which then made me realize that college is going to be a BILLION DOLLARS, so unless my husband brokered that contract with Dre from # 2, we are not going to be able to afford college and then I panicked because WHAT IF I CAN’T HELP THEM WITH MATH? AND NOW I’M PANICKING BECAUSE THIS SENTENCE IS A GRAMMATICAL RUN ON NIGHTMARE, SO WHAT IF I CAN’T HELP THEM WITH LANGUAGE ARTS?

10) I have written out ten number 10’s and they all sound really bizarre and I still struggle with the decision of how much to “put out there”  on the internet.    I definitely do want to share my work with the world but I also have issues in the past with people thinking like they know me extremely well, due to a friendship on social media, and quite frankly, it taps into a lot of codependent dysfunction ( see!!!!  I have learned “something” from all my Self Awareness Readings!!!!)

In closing, I’m literally out of words. I think that the run-on sentence of #9 , fried my brain.



I have been struggling to keep up with word press and blogging so I apologize if I haven’t seen comments or read blogs in a while!!

If I had less ——(I can’t think of a word to capitalize on what exactly less of I need to write more..), I could write all day , but then I would have nothing to write about because my life is the antithesis of boring, which I am grateful for in every single way. My point is, I’m hard on myself because I feel “behind” on my writing and book but it simply comes down to a catch-22 situation. I have adhd, OCD which drives my chaotic time management skills but it’s also the catalyst for my creativity.

A therapist once asked me in a session “Scrappie😆, do you think most Moms spray their child’s backpacks down with lysol everyday after school?”.
I have come a long way since my lysol-backpack-spraying-clorox-hoarding days, but I have a long way to go when on comes to truly letting go some of the control-mechanisms that I thought kept me sane for so long.

Yesterday my son said “You complicate answers to yes or no questions and you provide too much information”. He’s nine. I’m 42. He gets my brain which is amazingly wonderful but also undeniably frustrating when I am trying to discipline and set guidelines because he mashes on my buttons like a two year old in an elevator on a high rise.

that’s all I got. disjointed. a mess. unedited. done.

I recently read an article about how the Whooping Cough was an epidemic in California and  in the blog it stated it was a direct result of people choosing to not vaccinate their children. (see link below).     I was shocked by the parents’ vehemence towards each other on the topic.  Yes, if my child contracted a deadly disease, as a result of being around UN-vaccinated children, and I vaccinated my children, I would be hysterically angry and want to blame the parents who chose to not vaccinate their kids under the ‘herd-mentality’ premise.

However, lately, I decided, when I get inwardly steamed about a controversial subject, I am trying to do the opposite of overreacting and commenting wildly on Facebook. I am trying to bring my inner Dali Lama to the forefront and find a medium in which we can agree to disagree and really try to support each other as we raise our children in this world.

As a society, I feel like parents;  women especially, could do a much better job in supporting each other when it comes to how parents chose to provide for and raise their children. There are 500 different scenarios, and I do not think I have to list them all out because any parent that’s pouring love out of their heart to raise their children is a parent I support.   Why does it have to be a competition? Why are SAHP (stay at home parents) cast as a certain stereotype and working parents cast as another?  There are perks and insurmountable obstacles of all types of scenarios in raising kids.  I worked part time on three separate occasions after I had kids, and WE could not make it work as a family.  Why the competing forces on this topic?

For the record, I have probably criticized every one of these items in my head or out loud. Through some personal growth, I am realizing that when I criticize another person in general,  my own inner insecurities are rearing their monstrous head. My criticisms of anyone or anything, has everything to do with my issues and little or nothing to do with their issues.   My point, stop throwing stones in the glass house and start using some Windex together.  Let’s try to remove the following preconceived notions and judgement out of our parental interactions:

1)  The number and type of  extra curricular activities (I.e. sports) their children are involved in and  Thankfully , because of some of the work I have done on myself, I’m less likely to parent my children based on “comments” made by other parents.

2) How a parent disciplines their children.  Aside from physical, emotional abuse and neglect, how you (or as a family unit) chose to discipline your children is YOUR BUSINESS.  You are in the shoes 24/7, not the onlooker.



Both scenarios have their pros and cons. Stop trying to win the argument because there should not even be an argument anymore. It takes a Village.

5) BEING A SINGLE PARENT. Enough Said.  I know my Dad struggled with this feat for many many years and I have the utmost respect for the single parent.

6)Being A Gay Parent.  How is “gayness” affecting the child? or your child? If you associate being “gay” with being perverse,  that’s your problem.

7) Home Schooling your Children. Sending your Children to Private School. Sending your children to Public School.   I personally could not home school my children because I substituted as a preschool teacher and I learned very quickly that it’s simply not in my DNA and I would be performing an injustice to their education.

8) What type of religion , if any, is taught in the home.   I do my best to teach my children what I know, I bought them “cartoon-esque”  bibles so they have a basic understanding of Christianity. Essentially it is their decision to believe in what they want to believe in for themselves. I  believe in a Higher Power of my understanding, I want them to come to understand what that means to them on their own terms.

9) How many chores your kids do around the house or if they earn an allowance.   Again,  you are not in the parents’ shoes 24/7, you are the onlooker.   What works for some , may not work for others.

10) I’m backtracking a bit, but breastfeeding. I did not breastfeed, I tried and had to stop. No, I am not going to buy another mom’s milk over the internet or even next door.     I applaud the women who breastfed and breastfeed.    “BREASTFORMATION” (projectile vomiting of information on the benefits of breast milk) is not going tot make  a woman who did not breast feed, change her mind on the subject, it’s only going to make the woman feel horrendous about her decision she can not or should not change based on your opinion.  Information on the benefits of of Breastfeeding is great for groups and people who want to hear the information.  I speak from experience and most moms I know who also did not breastfeed, DID NOT COME UPON THE DECISION LIGHTLY.  Many tears were shed over my decision to formula feed my children.


I am around a lot of moms. The most common thing I hear is that they are so tired of being judged and tired of feeling like they are losing themselves in what other people THINK they should be doing. Why are we so damn hard on each other, aren’t we hard enough on ourselves???  Whether you are a strict parent, a funny parent, a fly by the seat of your pants- parent,  cook three meals a day for your kid parent,  kids were potty trained at 18 months or 5  years, parent,  organized pinterest guru parent, handy parent, dramatic parent, etc!!! , I think the worst thing we can do to each other as parents is criticize each other!


Have you hugged another parent today?


* Article on Whooping Cough

In a world that screams “be better, faster, stronger, thinner, happier, healthier, smarter, bouncier, boingier, etc”, we become our own worst critic. I believe in change, but not when it threatens the acceptance of who we are at  our core of beautiful personalities, which makes us special, unique, quirky and dynamic.

The most tumultuous battles I fight are with myself are because I’m not measuring up with what “I think” people need me to be doing, saying or being at this very moment.  “PEOPLE PLEASING” is a disease and it can literally kill your soul, your creativity, drive addicts to use again, incite aggression and make people mentally breakdown. I know from experience that when I am not being true to myself and my beliefs and I’m “buying in” to what other people are “selling” (metaphorically and literally) and I am not listening to my gut instincts, I end up in situations of regret and resentment.

Yes, we absolutely need to be considerate, kind and strive to help out our fellows. It is the times when we extend ourselves to others in full self abandonment, we end up on an empty gas tank forgetting to “fill~up” the most important person in the relationship equation, ourselves.  Self ~ Love does not mean becoming a doormat for others and saying “yes” to every request and demand. People who truly love us want us to say “No” or let our voices be heard.  People who thrive on YOUR “people pleasing”, are not loving you, they are using and manipulating you to gain something for themselves.

So why is Funny Lady Scrappie-Momma being so serious? I have been doing a lot of soul~searching, trying to find the real cause of my anxiety. I , like many, suffer from anxiety, depression and “projectile~future~vomiting”. Trust me , its LIGHT YEARS better than it was in my twenties and even thirties.  The truth is, the more peace I feel daily,  the more PEACE I need to feel daily,  and to shut the mental wars in my mind that occur in my brain.  I can create a tornado of distress in the middle of a sunshine filled day if I do not keep the “projectile~future~vomit” “inner voices in check.

I grew up with a lot of chaos. I finally provided a glimpse of my horrendous foster care  and schizophrenic Mom stories with my son and his response was “Wow, Mom you are the most interesting person I know!”..Wow, what a revelation,  rather than feeling shame or trepidation from my roller coaster childhood, I have amazing knowledge, strength and passion I can share my story in hopes to help others overcome barriers to full inner peace. (book!)  For me, when I feel peace, my brain is wired to say “OH SNAP, THIS SHIT ABOUT TO GET REAL, WAIT FOR IT SOMETHING INSANE ABOUT TO POP OFF BRO” (because my inner voice is most definitely a hip hop artist) . The reason my brain is wired like this is because for thirty years, it’s exactly how it happened for me!

In my childhood and through adulthood something “popped off” every one, two, to three years without fail. In a mirage of inconsistency, the one driving constant for me was turbulence.  Foster care, death, suicide,  divorce, alcoholism, anorexia,  etc. etc, either circumstantial or of my own , and at the time I thought, innocuous creations.  After 18, I definitely would subconsciously create sabotage, drama and mayhem because I thrived on burning the candle with a million ends. I use the terms innocuous and subconscious because I had developed my very own PHD from the”auto-pilot-drama” academy, where I was the student, teacher and graduate, completely oblivious to the sabotage I created for myself and to those around me.

In closing, this blog post started out as a Facebook post on my blog page I lose people after 140 characters and it took on a venue of its own.  The only goal I have for myself is to do things that bring me PEACE. I SIMPLY cannot be the Mom trying to outpace other Mom’s in whatever societal race we have created to raise Super Children. I cannot buy into the sensationalistic articles ( if you read them all, which I did for two years as a “health~coach”)  ,after all deductions and conclusions of said reading, I surmise facetiously, Organic Kale is the only food that won’t kill us. As Jim Gaffigan so eloquently stated in his recent stand up Obsessed, “Kale tastes like bitter spinach and hair”, and  after MANY attempts to try and like Kale, I have to agree. I just don’t like kale.






1) My kids are out of school.

2) I absolutely give myself an F in multitasking.

3) Seriously, I can’t walk and chew gum, it’s that bad.

4) When I start to get worked about about my “to do” list, it freaks me out and I get anxiety around the kids, which leads me to ..

5) I start comparing myself to Moms who have a 18 ab-pack, “stay at home” and “run a business”, or “work part time” or  “run a charity” or  cook, bake, dance, dust, plant, and ferberized all their children by the time they were three months. Even feberized the neighbors children and almost got them to feberize my children too, but 6 and 9 YEARS were above the cut in feberization training.*

6) When I start comparing, I get cranky. When I get cranky, I furrow my brow. When I furrow my brow, I have to set aside MORE MONEY for my future Botox treatments (no I haven’t had any..), because I already have the Victor Newman/Clark Gable deep forehead wrinkles that look fascinating on a man and not so much on a woman.

Caveat – I  need to be set  aside ALL our Botox money for college because according to the internet,  we are all dying from melting ice caps caused by the private jet plane fuel from the ostentatious Kimye** wedding,  GMO’s*** are in EVERYTHING, political controversy  gridlocks sneezing now and seriously, we are all going to die very soon. Bottom line,  the world will soon dissipate via spontaneous combustion because it gets clogged with TOO MANY KARDASHIAN** SHOWS, by the time my kids will be pursing their studies; thus, they will be receiving their education on Mars.

7) Did you read # 6? That’s pretty much any one of my “million” “complete” thoughts in a single day. It is kind of a miracle that I can blog , AT ALL really. You should see my writing scrapbook and journal. I can’t read half of what I hand- wrote. It’s fun, it’s like learning a new language when I go back and read stuff. I mean, I caveat my itemized lists?  WHO DOES THAT? Yes, I EVEN YELL AT MYSELF IN ALL CAPS IN MY JOURNAL.

8) I’m writing a book too,  I can’t multitask.   Like right now, the word count got stuck on that evil number and it wouldn’t move so it really freaked me out so I just started typing gibberish until the word count thing moved, and yeah, that’s kind of how my brain works.

9) In addition to my two children, we have a bearded dragon, name Echo who seems to go on some kind of hunger strike every three months. While I initially acquired this pet because a) My son completed some arbitrary task I had been begging him to complete and b) I THOUGHT it would be easier than a dog, he is kind of like having a third child. Oh ok, maybe a 1/2 a child. or 1/2 dog. or 1/2 cat or something.

10) Through all my self- help journeys, ONE MESSAGE, is abundantly clear to me lately is that I need to FREAKING RELAX and not worry about “getting it all done” or “I wonder what so and so thinks” .  When I do not “hold-still” and go a million miles an hour, I end up in a big giant pile of anxiety-produced-goo. In a nutshell, I’m going to take it easy on myself with my writing schedule and everything really, because life is short, and dammit I really thought this blog would be shorter!  I know some of you have my critical, yet short, attention span and if goes over thousand word count, I lose you. I get it!

Summary – I am not going to “sweat the small stuff” (Don’t Sweat the Small Stuff was a college graduation gift, I guess I sweat a lot, wouldn’t a case of Secret been more suitable?)  and as much as I love WRITING ; – blogging/book etc etc, are not  as important as the two and 1/2 mini reptile-humans I have under my roof that will need more of me than normal. :)



*Ferberization – Please Google it for the non-sarcastic definition. IN a nutshell it means letting your baby cry it out so they sleep 14 hours a night without bothering you and they live amazing, blissful, fabulous lives forevermore because you did not go running to their every wince and need when they were wee babies. . I was the Mom that absolutely could not do this. a) it sound like nail spikes on a chalkboard b) I wanted to sleep and I just couldn’t “tune it out”. I would sleep upright next to my sons crib so he could play with my hair.  I even BOUGHT a barbie doll (because, I did not have a girl YET) and try to prop her up, but the doll was to small and he could pull into crib and choke on a barbie doll so, yeah I don’t recommend the Barbie Doll Sleep Method.

Yes, my children still crawl into our bed very early in the morning..   ( like anywhere from 3 to 5 am)  GASP.   Some people think this is HORRENDOUS. Good Lord is it your bed? Please.  That’s another blog: 10 ways I keep my head from exploding when people without kids give unsolicited parenting advice OR people with kids try to tell you about their amazing parenting skills and they really do not have “many issues” with parenting, at all.  Vomit.

** Kimye -(I got that from Saturday Night Live, it’s Kim & Kayne’s name spliced together. You know from the Kardashians. If you do not know who they are , I applaud you for focusing on much more meaningful worldwide news.)

***GMO – Google it. I’m too exhausted to explain. It’s a “hot topic” so it will pop up maybe before Good Morning America?  (GMA)


++++++  Usual Disclaimer: DO NOT TAKE ME SERIOUSLY.  This stuff sounds extremely funny in my head, I have deemed myself a “comedic writer”, but I am too chicken to even attempt stand up. Anyhoo, another writer friend told me that comedic writing does not work well unless it’s narrated verbally, and people just think the writer is “angry”.   That’s so not the case, this is my free therapy and my goal is to make myself laugh at myself and for you to just LAUGH!



Yeah, I know monks live without stuff, but if you know my writing at all, I  am somewhat facetious so please do not take every word I write, seriously! YES, I do write some serious stuff, but my main goal is to make people LAUGH LAUGH AND LAUGH, be inspired and not take themselves so seriously!!!

As I age, I crave the simpler life.  I yearn for slow walks through antique stores filled with cobwebs, spending hours getting lost in a book, in my pjs, not worrying whether the popcorn I am eating is filled with genetically modified aliens or “Did I eat enough fiber today???”     Life today moves fast and the newest fad is bitching about people using their smartphones to much VIA THEIR SMARTPHONES!!! ‘   The irony of weepy-creepy-music filled videos of people looking down at their smartphones while a tree bristles in the wind, LINKED FROM FROM A SMART PHONE, TO A SMART PHONE PLATFORM makes me kind of Lewis Black cranky because just thinking about it is like those horrendous math problems we had to solve in high school math. It hurts my head.   I GET IT AND I ABSOLUTELY AGREE, WE (I!)  need to disconnect MORE, but send the message BY DISCONNECTING YOURSELF and setting the example, not making these crazy-long-weepy-creepy videos/pictographs, of people using their phones and chastising people for LIVING IN THE MODERN WORLD!

Ok, I got off on a little tangent, I was going to make that whole paragraph above a separate blog, but  tangents are kind of my thing.  A College friend always told me “I just love your stream of consciousness thinking Laurie” .  The paragraph is important because I do and did have a bit of phone problem. I like to write. I like to create. Word Press is on my phone. Therefore I am trying to find a balance and this blog, helps me put things in perspective and writing is my therapy.

Here are 10 things I need:
1) Antiques. Pictured above is my Grandmothers Aunts Baby Daddy’s Victorian Sofa (Okay, maybe not the baby daddy part..) Her furntiure, these antiques, hold a lot of great memories. In fact, I’m pretty sure I was Linda Carter or some force of nature on said sofa, catapulting off with my magical-super-hero-powers  while she yelled “STOP JUMPING OFF THE FURNITURE!”

2) Laughter.  I simply could not survive this earth without a sense of humor.  Anytime I have gone through an entire day and have not laughed means a day where I need to sit down and figure out what the hell is wrong with me.  When I was anorexic and living with my sister, a quote that jolted me into seeking recovery was “One of the saddest things about this whole eating disorder thing is  you have completely lost your awesome sense of humor.”

3) My Family.  Nuclear and extended. Crazy and Sane.  Messy and Miraculous. Through my 42 years, I have lost a brother, mother, grandmother, uncle and more.  Loss sucks and it happens. I get that. I just hope that it happens a bit more naturally is all and that I preserve the memories better than I have in the past.

4) My Friends.  I used to think I didn’t need people. And I’ll admit, when things get blue for me, I want to isolate and shut out the world but the truth is, we all need friends, even if it’s just one.  We need people, and whether you are spiritual or not, scientifically we absolutely can’t live without them for very long.

5) Wrinkle Shield.   I can’t live with out the wrinkle shield on the dryer.  Ironing is like brushing my teeth with mayonnaise and dirt. And I’m not one of those people who is all on top of laundry in the dryer so Thank You Jesus for helping the inventor create the wrinkle shield button.

6) or the dryer and washer. Although, in trying to be simpler, I yearn for a clothes line again, but we live in a subdivision and they would have a coronary-bi-pass-genetically-modified -alien-filled-heart-palpitation if I put a clothes line up in my back yard.

7) Coffee. It’s not even about the caffeine (ok maybe a little). In essence, it’s a quintessential part of my morning ritual. The smell is like honeysuckle in the spring, pine needles in the winter, or the Lavender Lysol-Bleach combo smell during vomit-virus season. It’s COMFORTING and I like it.

8) Yes. The dishwasher. When  my second was 2 months old, ours broke and I told my husband, “Oh I can handle this, I used to hand wash dishes all the time growing up!” Two teeny tiny baby bottles later, I was Googling coupons for all the local appliance stores saying it could be my Christmas, mothers day, birthday, double Christmas present, but I could not live without a dishwasher.

9) Thunderstorms on a hot afternoon.  This is like xanax to me. No I don’t use xanax (anymore).   Seriously, I don’t know if it brings me back to #1, playing Wonder Woman inside because we could not be out side because of the Thunderstorm.  The darker the clouds the better.  No, tornadoes freak me out,  but a good old fashioned non threatening Thunderstorm is like a nap in a hammock for me.

10) My Faith.  I am not RELIGIOUS.\, but I do have a faith in a higher power.   I used to think I need to have a fancy, gilded, bourgeois, fearful relationship with God,     that’s the antithesis of spirituality (for me).  I pray everyday as much as I can, just like I am talking to you, and yes I even swear sometimes. (obviously I don’t like take His name in vain or anything. when I ‘m praying that is.)






1) My kids slept in outfits below and ate cookies for breakfast.

2) My intention was to get everyone to cute little church at and of the road to get OUR PRAISE ON SON!,  today…but,

3) I slept in, ate three breakfasts, watched Adam Sandburg close the season of Saturday Night Live instead.
PS, I only let kids watch a teeny snip it, because I’m a good Mom :)

4) I am on my 5th cup of coffee and have accomplished Zero chores or tasks and I have zero plans to drink a healthy greencrimefightingdeathdryinglifechanging smoothie today.

5) I ALMOST deleted my Joel Olsteen tapings to make room on DVR (by accident!!).  I just love that guy, I will watch later, on my seventh cup coffee.

6)..I overreacted in yelling at my husband telling him not to overreact at my overeactions. Right? ,sounds like a 10th grade math~philosophy test question.

7) I have been brushing my teeth with a
Tiana and The Frog toothbrush designed for four year olds, all week and my new toothbrush is still downstairs on the kitchen counter.

8) I spent way too much time reading about the JayzSolangeBey Gate conundrum versus reading about our local Political candidates.

9) Wait, I don’t regret # 8. Politics is like brushing your teeth with said tootbrush coated in sand, grit, oreos, and mayonnaise.

10) I literally cannot  think of a #10 because I am that unproductive today so I have left my adoring fans with only 9 reasons..maybe 8, because 9 technically does not even count.


I spent a life time doing this, but not anymore.

If I’ve learned ONE thing, make changes to love and accept yourself but do not bend with the societal wind that tells you that you need a product, a thing, a drink, a drug or whatever, to be better.

I’m a slow learner, I’m stubborn, I may make the same mistake a hundred times before I learn the message; YET, this lesson right here, may be the most important one I have learned. Changing your perception of oneself is an inside job and it may be the most important one you ever have in your life!

If you change to be accepted by or be like others ~ it’s like flat ironing your hair, in the shower, while using curl enhancer all at the same time! I plead the fifth as to whether I have attempted the  aforementioned shower~flat~ironing insanity.

My kids are pictured because I learn so much from their acceptance of themselves and their unabashedly contentious nature to grab life by the horns and not let GO; no matter who tells them what they can and cannot do,including their MOM!!  aka scrappiemomma!

I aim protect them, I make A LOT OF MISTAKES, I’m impatient, I’m scrappie, I’m messy, sometimes I lack the polished filter that most suburban moms seem to carry around like a pink hammer of grace and poise. I feel like I eff up any type of school event or extra curricular activity as in “Um ? wtf am I supposed to be doing because the hospital manual stopped at three months and I’m flying blind?”( case in point ~ forgetting to dress my daughter in her dance costume, for DRESS REHEARSAL because I apparently I didn’t comprehend even the title of the email “DRESS REHEARSAL”. These types of clueless mom shenanigans happen more frequently than expected, and I don’t even drink….)

I’m drifting off tangent a bit. My point, I try to shield them too much from the aching hurts of the world all while knowing that I have to let them spread their wings to ready themselves for a world that in one breath is as miraculous as it is cruel. I guess what I truly wish, through my unwavering love and guidance, is I never, ever, ever break their tenacious spirit or their acceptance of themselves at their inner core, because, that my friends, is the key to true, inner peace.

My 2 cents today.

Shortest Blog ever by Scrappie Momma:

I stopped counting the calories,
I put the scale in the garage,
I refuse to be addicted
To this perfectionist mirage

Everyday can be struggle
Of “omg is this organic??”
Bc every health article I read
Seems to send me into a panic

Health will ALWAYS be a part of me
BC my 9th grade health teacher was Hawt
Ok that’s not entirely true
But I think I just laughed a lot

I’m trying to live in moderation
Break the chains of control that confine me
So if you see me reading a label in deliberation
Tell me its ok, life is a gift, let it go & be free

I rarely blast out rhymes
This literally just popped into my head
I blog most of the time
Possibly, I just lost my Rap Street cred*

My head is a Rolodex in the wind
Where I control the uncontrollable around me
Somewhere I learned enjoying food was a sin
But thankfully I’m slowly learning  to just BE

I have no clue how to end a poem
The words don’t flow as easily
Just a quick glimpse I have shown
& help my day go more readily


* Kind of an inside joke, a lot of aspiring rap artists follow me on twitter. I mean not a lot, but enough where I’m wondering if Scrappie Momma is being mistaken  for Lil Momma or Drop Dem Rhymes Momma?  Who knows, I just hope there is no misconception that I have 1) any street cred because I grew up on farms,  a fishing village and in Shaker Heights Ohio, and 2) that I can rap, because I do try and it’s horrendous.

I wrote this a while ago. I’m catching up on all my handwritten blogs.  I have had a lot of dental work lately and my favorite drama on television is The Walking Dead. On with it.

1)  You witness a dental team utilize a mini arsenal of mini home improvement and home gardening tools ON YOUR MOUTH.  This way, if you every need pet zombies for protection (Michonne, Walking Dead) you can loot a dental office and mimic what you witnesses while people were gardening in your mouth; except, precision and pain alleviation will not be an issues.

2)The dental insurance companies cover one toof.  So either you have one really great toof, to use when you become a Zombie during an Apocalypse, or you drained your savings to save the other toofies. Either way, you will have something to work with as a Zombie if you visit the dentist regularly!!!  Yes I spelled toof incorrectly on purpose.  I do not know why, maybe it’s some kind of rebellious gesture towards Dental Insurance companies for the asinine  policy of COVERING ONE TOOF OR ONE QUADRANT of said Toofies.

  •     Side note. I had ZERO clue on how to spell asinine.  So I looked up “assynyne” on google. Apparently it’s very popular name for hip hop groups and rock bands.  And YES, I know how to spell toof. Remember, I’m rebelling.

3)Laughing Gas is awesome.  So if things start to go south during a Zombie Apocalypse, find a dental office STAT, to hide your posse in and hook yo’self up playah.

  •  I mean “go south” as it go poorly. Not “move towards the south”. This can be confusing, hence my clarification, because the Walking Dead is filmed in the South, in Georgia.  I never really thought of where the term “go South” as in “going poorly” comes from….?

4) Dental people have fabulous teeth. Zombies do not.

5) Dental offices are shiny, nice, sanitized, and play great family friendly movies like “Up” and “Despicable Me”; whereas,  any warehouse or church or home you take refuge in during a Zombie Apocalypse, you will most certainly not have said amenities.

6) If you are in a Zombie Apocalypse, make sure you have one of those Novocaine Needles filled with Novocaine. That way if you are about to get bit, you can jab the pre-bit area with said needle and it won’t hurt as much.

No Pain, you will be slain”  You may have to tell your Zombie-Attacker- Non -Human -Walker thing, to hold off for about five minutes until the Novocaine kicks in though…

7) Dental offices are loaded with awesome supplies and weapons to loot during a Zombie Apocalypse,  For survivors AND to ward off Zombies. Think about it. Also DON’T FORGET TO ROLL THAT LAUGHING GAS MACHINE WITH YOU WHEN YOU HEAD BACK TO PEOPLE-ALIVE-HUMANS CAMP. Seriously.  Don’t leave home without it.

8) If you go to the dental office a lot for surgeries etc, you are prepared for Zombie Attack pain.

9) If it were the Dental People versus Zombies as last people on earth, I would place big money on the Dental People winning.  They have great tools,  they have great teeth, they know how to keep sanitized and ward of zombie germs and mutations, and they will all be high on laughing gas so it won’t really matter anyways.

10) If you have great dental coverage and stay up to date on all your dental appointments, you will make one hell of a Zombie during an apocalypse, that’s the same as #2 , but that’s all I got.



or 10 things that happen when you end up in the emergency room. I have been in many ERS over the past year (no, not just for my children, my Dad was sick last year and we were  looking out for him etc etc,I  tell you this because if I didn’t you would be like WTF is wrong with this Mom).  Let’s cut out the insanely verbose scrappiemomma monologue and get right to it.  I write what I know:


1) My son recently got the bubonic plague. The above diagram indicates how the puking episodes transpired.

2) They feel like biscuit fireballs with the fever. On day 2 of da plague, he said his body felt like it was stretching. I almost passed out myself when the thermometer spiked to 104.5 in like seconds,  threw it across the room, grabbed keys, my son  & didn’t even finish taking his temperature.

3) Frantically sped towards emergency room with hazards on blast and screaming at red lights wondering;  “is it really necessary to have traffic lights in the middle of the night?” I suppose the tractor trailers  barreling down the road, deems traffic control mechanisms necessary. To a panicked Mom, though, anyone being on the road seemed unnecessary.

4) There is really NOTHING worse than and ER doc who is “dismissive”. I am being gentle here.  The other word I had chosen when I first write this started with an A and ended with a Hole.  I KNOW they are busy, I understand they are overwhelmed, but there really is no greater  feeling of complete helplessness when it comes to your family needing medical attention and the  ER people act like you are at Starbucks complaining that your foam isn’t foamy enough.

  •   Funny, Funny caveat. Last year the few times my Dad was in the ER, not so funny at the time; there was this one particular ER where instead of an actual NURSE or Attendant coming in to ask you registration questions, THEY WHEELED IN A GIANT MOBILE CART WITH A FREAKING PERSON ON SKYPE. Ever watch Big Bang Theory where Sheldon decides to only travel TO AND FRO via Skype on his computer? Seriously SAME SCENARIO.   Coincidentally, while I was providing pertinent information to “Shelbot”, a patient came running down the hallway, half dressed banging on the window, jumping up and down, pointing to my phone saying she needed to make a call.   At this point in the scenario, I was rendered speechless, and if you know me, it TAKES A LOT TO SHUT ME UP.

5)  This past ER visit. I had forgotten I cut and stubbed my pinkie toe on this fabulous garden paverkeepsgrassfromgrowingintoflowergarden thingies ( (seriously I’m HGTV illiterate)  my husband had put out front a few days before.   I looked down at cut on my toe and I FREAKED. I was convinced I had contracted the flesh eating bacteria while in the ER and almost had a panic attack and passed out until I remembered that I’m extremely clumsy and the majority of the bumps, bruises and scrapes I bequeath are due to my inability to walk a straight line. Sober.

6) You will do anything for your kids when they are sick. I was ready to donate any body part needed at any point in time.  We compromised by ordering an overpriced Minecraft bat on Amazon and then got really distracted and decided I needed to order the “tangle free brush” for my daughter. I was so incredibly distracted (there is a lot of ANXIETY RIDDEN DOWN TIME (#ARDT) and waiting in ERs and hospitals) I ended up order  SIX Ultimate De-tangling brushes.

  • Note, I capitalized ANXIETY RIDDEN DOWN TIME  and coined/hash tagged the term (ARDT) to indicate there is a HUGE difference between REGULAR DOWN TIME (#RDT…watching HGTV and Walking Dead) and #ARDT where ordering things on Amazon seems to alleviate anxiety. Buy now with one click is a highly dangerous button while undergoing #ARDT.

7)  There is a vast difference  in aesthetics, food, activities, Nursing Staff, at a regular hospital and a Children Hospital. I do not know how else to elaborate other than the fact it’s like Disney versus Chuckie Cheese.

8) I had a giant fever blister on my lip the entire time my son was in the hospital which if you know anything about fever blisters, they THRIVE on stress, so it like grew exponentially, hourly. To make me laugh, my friends kept saying that the Nurses were saying “High Maintenance Fever Blistered Mom in room 235 needs us again, no it’s YOUR turn to deal with her…”

9) Even “funnier”, somehow in the process of being in two 3 ERS  shuttled through Atlanta in ambulance transports etc etc , somehow someone forgot to write down the name and number of my son’s pediatrician; therefore, it was written on his chart “Family has no pediatrician”.   So I am downstairs in the Disney Cafe, when my husband texts me from my son’s room “Social Services is here, we do have pediatrician right?”

  Fever Blister Ridden Mom Drops salad on floor and screams “DON’T TAKE MY BABIES”.   Yes, I have a pediatrician for my children.

10) No disrespect to ANY of the staff in medical facilities , even if you are “dismissive” like # 4, because I’m sure Anxiety Ridden Fever Blistered Moms  are no picnic for the medical community either.  Even with all the ARDT that comes with  having a really sick kid, being in the ER, or being hospitalized, I am eternally grateful for  ERs, Hospitals, Children’s Hospitals and Nurses!


Happy Nurses Week :)


profielic1I think I blogged about this before, but I absolutely have zero memory of what I wrote and yes, I could go back and read it.  However, one of the 10 things that happen when you turn forty is forgetfulness and lack of patience.   (picture is me 40, husband 38. Yep. I’m a Cougar.  you can barely see my lips, see # 1)

On with it:

1) You lose your lip line. I’m not kidding, your face starts to melt into your lip line. Lip Liners are not for youthful people. The entire Lip Liner Industry was targeted for women over 40 who wake up one morning, look in the mirror and say “OMG WHERE ARE MY LIPS??????????????????”

a) Caveat: You LOSE LIP FAT.  LIP FAT. That’s NOT EVEN FAIR. God, or Buddha, or your divine being that created you / me, I must ask  “WHAT WERE YOU THINKING WITH THIS ONE??? Wasn’t there somewhere else on my 40 year old body that you could have taken fat to use for whatever you need fat from my lip to assist the body part with the needed fat from my lip??? I could make a few recommendations? ”

2) Spider Veins. Varicose Veins. Bumpy Veins. No, not the pretty ones that show on people who eat the perfect amounts of food and exercise perfectly and have pretty veins that barely show in their arms but kind of show because they are lean and strong. I’m talking veins that APPEAR OVERNIGHT in some cases that look like a cluster of blue bug bites.  Or Looks like your children got a hold of a blue sharpie, glue and blue confetti (not shiny or glittery, the dull confetti, the kind that sits out too long in the sun at the craft store and loses all its joie de vivre)  and decided to decorate your thighs and legs.

3) Cellulite.  Seriously. TRAPPED FAT?  Dear Divine Creator. Again, where are we going with this one? Fat being TRAPPED on your body. If the fat is there, isn’t it kind of already trapped?  Why do we need to make little pockets for it to stay trapped.  Its like Hotel California for FAT???   Purpose of Cellulite?? –  It gives the Celebrity Photo Shoppers a vocation.  OR it gives Celebrity Paparazzi something to chase after on the beach so they can hound some thin celebrity and broadcast to the world  “LOOK EVERYONE EVEN SHE HAS CELLULITE”  Nice.

a) Caveat: I recently took up foam rolling NOT because it’s a healthy and prevents injury.  I heard it “got rid of”  cellulite and I was all over that like paparazzi on cellulite on celebrities at the beach.  I know it does not get “rid of it”, I know the word was “reduces the appearance of cellulite” but in my book “reduces” = “rid of”.

4) Your metabolism? Wave good bye.  I had this whole long thing written out but there really is not a whole lot to explain.   Scientifically it’s the truth. I had to take a very long and cumbersome test when I was a fitness instructor and the ONE thing that they kept hammering over and over in the “Nutrition” section is the older you get, the more stuff slows down. Period. End of story.  I  passed the test (barely) but I know I got that answer right. The good news is if you foam roll, you will NEVER EVER get injured, have zero cellulite and can exercise off everything you eat. (I’m joking here…kind of….I’m really counting on this foam rolling stuff to kick in and turn me 20 again)

5) Ladies.  Your boobs. Will either go straight down or off to the side. I asked my friend if their was a cure for “armpit boobs.  Mine increasingly gravitate toward the side more and more, it seems like on a daily basis. I have to re-adjust them. Hourly. Dudes, I don’t know what happens to your instruments, but feel free to blog and let your 40 year old friends know all about whatever strange phenomenon is occurring  on an hourly basis, but keep it classy.

6) If you lacked patience before, expect to lack it even more. I went to very few camps or church gatherings as a child but there was one song I clearly remember  “Be patient Be patient don’t be in such a hurry, you will only start to worry, Just remember God has patience too, Just think of all the times others had to wait for you”.  The song frankly annoys me because it (as a song ) it invokes memories of people behind me in line, rolling their eyes and shooting me looks of severe disdain.  It divinely pops into my head when I am in the line from hell at Walmart or Home Deport or Lowes or Dollar General or DMV or where ever places long lines go to DIE.

7)  You eyelashes  leave their home and start a new home on your chin, , jawline , above your “un-lip-lined” lip, and the top of your feet. They move south for pre-Retirement years. No extra description needed here.

8)  Every time someone yelled out to you “Use sun screen” and you did not listen – turns into a sunspot, guess where??  The same place your eyelash hairs relocate to for their pre-Retirement party. Thus, you have a parade of unwanted hairs and GIANT torpedoed freckles on your upper lip, chin, jawline and feet in addition to the Hotel Calfornia’d cellulite and Micheal’s Craft store veins and so on and so forth.

9) You start giving your parent’s advice.  They don’t listen and they ignore EVERYTHING you say to them in form of advice and CHANGE THE SUBJECT TO SOMETHING THAT HAS TO DO WITH HIP HOP MUSIC?????   It’s like some twisted reverse-psychological- punishment for any hell you put them through when you were a teenager.   I really think they do it on purpose.

10) You drone on and on about “what happens when you turn 40”.  Mall teenagers, people in their “twenties” are mildly annoying, and TRUST me they find “people in their 40’s and above” as equally annoying. It’s just a vicious cycle of annoyance if anytime there is a mix of these ages; Which is virtually, any family gathering.  THE only PEOPLE that favor well at family gathering, are babies. So if you over the age of TWO, things just go down hill from there. HEY BABIES AND TODDLERS – Be prepared to be annoyed for the rest of your life. :)

WAIT, I almost forgot. Bonus) Forgetfulness.

WAIT, I just thought of another one when I was loading blog link to instagram.  SELFIES SUCK.

PS.This is ALL in good fun.



I was going to name this “10 Reasons why you should stop comparing yourself to others”  or “10 reasons why there should not be any comparison between the Stay at Home Mom (parent) versus the Working Parent” or “10 Reasons to accept yourself”   These are all very important topics, but I  really want to bring LAUGHTER into the blogging world.  Life is extremely serious, and there are things that need to be taken seriously, and there are amazing writers out there that are writing about very serious things and they all serve of equal importance in this extremely complex Universe. My problem is that my mind is an open web browser and every serious article/Facebook post/  of “you must change NOW”,  exploding in the informational highway, I absorb, over analyze and I get so distracted that I can not enjoy what is right in front of me at this very moment.

I KNOW it my opening paragraph is not Chuckle Hut worthy so on with it.  Here are 10 reasons why I will laugh at myself, (and Love) , I hope that you can find some time today to make yourself a quick list for yourself to help you love, laugh and accept yourself as to where you are at this very moment:

1) I wear Jackie Onassis dresses and love 1950s clothes, but I  also love really ratchet music. Like ratchet ratchet.  Like “Rack City” Ratchet. I mean, please, My Easter Dress looked like something out of Betty Crocker’s 1950’s picture-cookbook, all the while the top ten songs on my playlist are about “droppin’ it low”.  I will say; however, I do search high and low for the edited versions. I think that counts for something.

2)In continuation with my eclectic music and fashion sense, the song Let Her Go by Passenger makes me boo hoo like a baby. I do not know if it’s because of all the puppies and horses when it first came out or if it’s because it strikes some kind of peri-menopausal-tear-duct-gland or if when it’s played someone is cutting a onion nearby? I don’t know. It just makes me cry. It’s truly a beautiful song.

3) I cannot fold clothes if the floor needs to be vacuumed. For some reason it makes no earthly sense to me to be folding and putting away clothes when the floor is dirty.  You can imagine the havoc this wreaks if I get sick or my vacuum dies and my mop is on the fritz.  My sister lived with us for a while. She was very “on top” of the laundry.  If I saw her folding any stack of laundry, I would IMMEDIATELY, get the vacuum or mop out and start cleaning the floors. I would STOP whatever I was doing or convince her that she did not need to be folding the laundry because I am her sister and she should know I am just weird.

4) I have panic attacks at the grocery store when people bag my groceries.  I have to literally bite the inside of my cheek. I can’t do self- check out  either because I am very very slow and someone usually steps in and “assists” then I am back to the same conundrum.  Today I had a little freak out session because the bag person put all my cold stuff in the non cold recycle bags and vice-versa. Yes, I re-arranged all of this before loading into the car. I am sure I gave the person reading her People magazine in the car next to me a huge chuckle.

5) I am a horrendous drive-way driver.  Recently,  I was at a friend’s house and I literally drove right up over her cable box. It was pretty big. Cable still works in case you were wondering.    Oh, and last summer, my husband got a new truck with the back up ALARM system with the giant camera. I am backing up while we are on our annual beach vacation trip (so in my defense I was in a strange driveway) and the camera goes pitch black and the alarm things starts screaming, and I call my husband and ask him “Why is  rear aid back up alert flashing on the screen and why is it beeping extremely loud?’  His response; “YOU ARE ABOUT TO HIT SOMETHING!!!”   Lo and Behold , there was a GIANT PALM TREE about five centimeters away from the bumper. My friends were laughing so hard they could not even stand up.

6) I do not do well on highways either. I get very tense in “trafficky” situations. It’s not that I become a bad driver, I become a nervous, white knuckled driver. I hate the freeway or interstate.  Two funny stories:

a) One time I was with a friend,about 15 years ago , and I switched lanes rather quickly, possibly without using a blinker, because I had not gotten over fast enough due to my tense driving state of affairs.   I KNOW, it was not safe, but I was not intentionally trying to be rude or anything.  (that counts! Gold star for me!!) Immediately after my maneuver,  I looked back and I “thought” all these people were waving and me and I said to my friend , “Do we know all those people behind us?” as I fervently waved my hand out the window and smiled,  and she said “Um no, they are not waving at you, they are giving you the bird”.

b) I drove all the way from Maine to North Carolina with my sister when I went to college.  Several several times, truckers would pass us and give me the “hang loose” or “chill out” sign in response to my panicked, white knuckled “10 & 2” on the steering wheel.

7)  There is nothing I love more that to drink a huge soda (ok I am trying to be healthier so I have been drinking a lot of seltzer water, I NEED fizz) and let out a giant burp. I like to burp.  I feel like it’s cleansing in some ways. Don’t worry I do not do this in public, it’s purely a stay at home mom type of activity.  Drinkin Seltzer and Burpin. Sounds like a country or a rap song. Maybe.  I even try to sound out a word or something like “Excellent”… I know juvenile, but oh so rewarding.

8) I love to over analyze, ok wait, maybe I love to “shallow analyze” and ask insane questions during movies that sometimes have absolutely no connection to what is actually going on during the movie. This is definitely a blog for later but here are a few quick ones,  “Why would she be wearing something like that during an Zombie Apocalypse?”    “Do you think they really really love each other deeply or is it a marriage of convenience?”   “Do you think she makes smoking look sexy? or is that just me?” (don’t worry I am not going to take up was JUST a question). Again, a blog for later.. because I think I should be a movie critic for all those random questions you have in the back of your mind.

9) I am a Messy Perfectionist. I am still trying to determine what that means.  It’s just a crazy way to describe my brain and the way I organize “things”.   I want things to be perfectly organized, put away and Pottery-Barn-worthy-showcased, but my brain simply does not operate in that manner; therefore the best way to describe how are organize things in my house is “Messy perfectionism”.  The level of organization on Pintrest literally makes me want to seek therapy.

10)  I lose chapsticks, lip gloss, hair thingies like there is no tomorrow.  And so does my daughter. So then when it comes time to “clean up and organize my messy perfectionism”, I will have 4359 pins & hair things in my hair, 45 lip balms in my pocket until I can find their messy home. Sometimes they never make it home depending upon what other “messy perfectionism” project I delve into on my journey.

This was a bit longer than I had anticipated but I hope it gives you a chance to laugh a little and thing of a few reasons why it’s okay to stop, smell the roses and not try to be 500000 steps ahead of everyone else, even yourself.










In continuation from the previous post, here is a fabulous email I sent my kid’s dance Director.  I think she has a voo doo doll of me that she jams pins in every time she hears a BING on her phone and it’s an email from the illustrious and  loquacious Scrappie Momma………..


Logan and Laney, is it ok if I drop both of them off at the same time and pick them up at the same time (30 minutes before for laney would be 3:50, for logan would be 4:10 so I was hoping I could drop both them off at 3:50?)

  For Pick up I’m a little confused (this is probably all me)  because  there is a Finale for the 1pm show and for the life of me I can’t find the Finale for the 6pm? or do they all practice that together? or is this a stupid question.  For Pick up,  it looks like they are both in the Finale at 6:05, so should I plan on picking them up around 7? or am I missing something?  Also Logan will be in both shows and both Finales, but Laney will not) Does that change anything?

Sorry I have read it a lot, and I even have coffee in my system, I just want to make sure I have this all marked in my folder and on my calender (s) because last year I kind of messed this all up.




Ouch. That hurt! I think she may have used extra pins this time.


It’s actually 10 reasons, but the bus is coming, and I promised myself that I would blog or write in my book at least six times a week and well, I want to get this published today so I do not break any more promises to myself, or have to blog or write when my kids are home.  I do realize summer is just right around the corner so am I planning to just “not write” for two months?? No,  I will have a strict schedule with mandatory writing time for all,   six times a week, okay maybe five, okay maybe I will we will count writing out birthday cards to Mee Maw and Pee Paw as writing time. You will see why I want to concentrate on writing this summer with my children, with my # 2.

On with it:


1) As referenced in the above picture , It’s Dress Rehearsal time for dance recital. Let me break down for you what happened last year:
a) I drove my daughter betwixt non-Perimeter and Perimeter Atlanta traffic to a Performing Arts Center that JUST HOSTED A CHICK FIL A CONVENTION. To a Dress Rehearsal. In which I FORGOT TO DRESS MY CHILD IN HER DANCE COSTUME. I did not read the email last year. No, I did not even read the SUBJECT LINE DRESS REHEARSAL !!!!

B) I had to drive all the way betwixt this Armageddon of traffic back home. It was a Friday Spring night. Bass was exploding from every hooped up hooptie and monster mash truck rattling my nerves (Usually I love bass explosions).  At one point I got completely lost and tried to turn around in a large parking lot and couldn’t  get OUT OF THE PARKING lot, while my son was in the back, I ended up doing doughnuts (unintentionally ) screaming expletives at the top of my lungs. He said and I quote “You really need to relax Mom”.

C) There is much more to this story, but it does provide an amazing glimpse as to why I DID NOT GET THE MANUAL.


2) I’m not sure if you can read this but this is a breakdown of some type of standardized testing my son had recently on writing skills.  I burst into tears when I got the scores back because he “did not meet expectations” in nearly 90 percent of the categories, and I am a “writer” and it  truly is all about ME and I live vicariously through my children. I think I also had really bad PMS OR I am in some type of peri-menopausal purgatory because I am much more emotional two weeks before and after that time of the month, which is basically 365 days of the year.  Thankfully, I showed my extremely level headed husband WHO DID INDEED GET THE MANUAL and said “I do not understand any of this jibber jabber* either, our kids are smart, quit stressing, hey how’s that book coming? are we going to be able to retire in Ft Lauderdale because you will be like that lady who wrote all the Harry Potter books?” Oh my poor poor husband. No, he shouldn’t listen to my jibber jabber* either.  Quite frankly I do not think he does listen to much of it.

3) I was going to take a picture for #3, as I just got though vacuuming five pieces of destroyed chicken fingers that I had made from the book Deceptively Delicious , where you try to hide vegetables in the kid’s food. I probably should have foreseen these type of shenanigans when I saw the word “flax seed” as an ingredient.  I am not sure I even like flaxseed but I put it in all my food because I read it helps get rid of cellulite. Okay, NO I didn’t read that but I inferred it from the reading because it’s one of the new “superfoods” like “chia seeds”  (I like) “chai tea” (I like)  “kale” (strongly hate) and every freaking wheat barely foo foo grass from here to China. I digress.  Consequently,  My stubbornly honest daughter told me it and I quote the nuggets “were disgusting Mommy, just disgusting” and burst into tears. My  sensitively innocent son, told me he ate all five pieces.  Refer back to beginning of paragraph.  No disrespect to Jessica Seinfield, (who wrote Deceptively Delicious, I have tried a lot of the recipes and let’s just say I had to freeze all the chicken because that will be my lunch for the next 356 days. I made like a quadruple batch because I most certainly thought it would be a huge hit.

4) Sometimes, I watch “106 & park’ on BET,  in the evenings when they are doing their homework to make sure my Bootie Explosion play list is currently up to date with every “drop it low shawty” jam. Here are a few lyrics I find quite entertaining right now. Yes, I should be hovering over them (my kids, not the Bootie Jams)  with a plate of warm cookies, but Momma needs her jams. (“not jellies, jams like JAMZ” or “Jam on it son”) And notice I said “Sometimes.” Although I think Lil Bow Wow is the cutest thing in the world, I do not have time to watch “106 & Park” every night.  Please notate these JAMMIN lyrics:

Jason Derulo’s “Talk Dirty to me”

“Been around the world, do not speak the language, but your Booty don’t NEED SPLAININ”
I wonder if my booty don’t need much splainin’ or does my booty leave much to be splained? (that’s me thinking, in non italicized)

Trevor Jackson and B.O.B   “Drop It, Drop it, Drop it where you are”

” and she finna drop it low in Bobby Rae BootCamp, Hopping out the old school, let the door slam, She got a fistful, call her Lindsay Both hands”

Beyonce’s  “Partitions”

Radio say speed it up, and I just go slower,

high like treble, puffin on them mids,the man ain’t never seen a booty like this,

and why you think you keep your name rollin on my tongue, cause when you want to smash I just write another one,


etc etc etc


5) I say things like “Pretend you are grown like me and your child does not listen to you and you have to ask them 10000000000007 ways to Sunday to clean their room. every. day., how would that make you feel??” I do not think my kids are ready for all the philosophically laden, therapeutic jibber jabber, but it sure as hell does make me feel better to ask them really long questions just to hear myself jibber jabber.*.


*I gleaned the term jibber jabber from the Big Bang Theory, Penny Always tells Sheldon he needs to quit with the jibber jabber.

She finna drop it low in Bobby Ray bootcamp
Hoping out the oldschool, let the door slam
She got a fistful, call her Lindsay Bothhands


More jibber jabber on this topic ..later.

Specifically, wordpress, computers as a people and automated services.

1) Yesterday, I couldn’t type on my computer. Its connected (??) VIA wireless mouse and keyboard because my husband thinks he’s Jack Bauer and I’m his hot side kick. I hate wireless attachments because THERE ARE NO WIRES TO FIGURE OUT THE PROBLEM. Ask me. Yes. I TURNED TO COMPUTER OFF 3x and I was able to restore sanity to the office.

2) Everytime I try to log into Word Press from my phone, I get a jacked up error message telling me there is a two step verification process to log in. I have zero clue what this means EXCEPT, periodically, randomly throughout the day and night, I get WordPress codes texted to me. If I’m being hacked, and someone is plagiarizing my genius writing, I will find you.

3) I had to call Express scripts today. I hit zero 5677887664432456 times and kept screaming CUSTOMER SERVICE PERSON into my phone. After, ten minutes of this “Sybil” (the movie) worthy performance, I talked to a real person. Why is it so hard to talk to real people? 

4)  When I have not received a text in over an hour I’m convinced my phone is broken. I miss the neon phones with cords so long, you could wrap your entire body with it, which I did a lot as a teenager, out of sheer “lets see how much I can stretch the cord”. I miss not feeling like my phone is an appendage. 

5) Browsing on the internet can completely ruin your day. For example, a tiny sliver of an example, I have self diagnosed myself and my children, with the most awful cases and rare diseases through Web Md that my pediatrician reminds me regularly, not to use WebMd.

6) Our wireless computer setup, sure has a lot of wires everwhere that collect a lot of dust.

7) There is NEVER an easy solution if you get the blue screen of death on computer with the blinking hypen at the top and few words of code gibberish. We have been through a few burned out hard drives,(terminology may be off here)  to know that there is no coming back from this death window. 

8) The Geek Squad almost salivate when you bring in Blue Screen of Death problems.. 8) Technology has a short shelf life. My neon phone would still be kicking it,  if I hadn’t ruined the cord by playing “Cord Mummy” when I should have been doing my computer science homework.

9) Why didn’t I LISTEN and study in computer class!!! My son fried two laptops with minecraft and I fried our dinosaur modem by clicking the “MAKE YOUR COMPUTER FASTER” POP UP PEOPLE.

10) I have two books on WordPress FOR dummies.
I am on page 12, of each. Its my ambien.

My husband is convinced I have the poltergeist technological malfeasance within my tippy tappy fingers on the keyboard. I’m convinced everything technological should comply with my clicking of pop ups and middle-fingered “eff you swirly button not responding message” sentiments.

What’s your kryptonite?