Follow your inner moonlight; don’t hide the madness. -Allen Ginsberg aka, my favorite #wellnesswednesday Advertisements
I have three little boys. Like many of you, I spent Mother’s Day opening handmade cards, unwrapping decorated flower pots, and reading through “All About My Mom” books made at school, in which I learned that my favorite thing to do is cook corn, my favorite thing to eat is corn, and when I’m not… Read More To the heartbroken on Mother’s Day
I used to have this thing, where I was too embarrassed to mention you for fear of making people feel uncomfortable. I mean, death is awkward and depressing. But I’m over that now. When it comes to lives, you certainly lived a wonderful one. When it comes to kindness, selflessness, intelligence and humor, I can’t think of many… Read More A Letter to My Mother, On the Anniversary of Her Death
“to extend or expand beyond a safe or reasonable point” Tuesday morning, 5:30 am. Mommy…mommy…you can hear the whispers. As you pry your groggy eyes open(ish) through the ridiculously early morning darkness,you make out what appears to be your 3-year-old pleading for some grapes…peeeeeeez. You stumble your way to the kitchen, tripping over a scattering of Tonka trucks and… Read More Overextended.
For 19 years, I was lucky enough to have the most amazing mom ever to have lived on this earth. That’s her in the photo, wasn’t she ridiculously beautiful? I always loved the colors in the background, the silver lining around the Pacific waves that somehow emphasize the honey highlights in her hair. See, beautiful,… Read More To the Mommyless Moms on Mother’s Day
Hey girl, I feel your pain. The pure exhaustion is setting in, taking over every part of you. I feel. your. pain. Today’s one of those days you’re so tired that if there was a breathalyzer for delirium, you’re pretty sure you’d blow a million point a million.
My oldest boy is learning to write. He can’t quite get those tricky w’s, and he writes his sixes backwards. Right now, he loves homework. I mean not just a little, when he’s sent home with an assignment, it’s like Christmas morning for this kid. He cries if we can’t make it to a school… Read More Passing Penmanship
Mommy woke up on the wrong side of the bed today. You know, the bed I share with daddy, the dog and now your wiggly 2-year-old brother who refuses to rest unless his hand is lying somewhere on my sleepy head.
I see you, minivan mom. You swore you’d never succumb to its elongated frame and matronly…well, everything. But lo and behold, baby #3 came along and kicked that promise right to the mother lovin’ curb. And now here you are schlepping droves of squealing children around to t-ball practice, surrounded by little landmines of goldfish cracker crumbs… Read More How to Feel Like You’re Not Driving a Minivan, When You Are in Fact Driving a Minivan
There’s a puddle on the bathroom floor, the plunger’s resting on the living room rug, and someone’s screaming ‘HELP ME’ from the kitchen.