A Mom's Life

When I was a kid my brother liked to call me Superstar after Molly Shannon's character Mary Katherine Gallagher on SNL. In case you weren't a 90's teen like I was, here's a clip of the skit-turned-movie from 1999: http://tinyurl.com/pxyqds8. So, what exactly was it about me that reminded my bro of this particularly memorable (and by the way, the web tells me one of the top 10 all time best of SNL) character? Was it her Catholic upbringing? Her inability to land a date? Her mood swings or general clumsiness? Perhaps it was her incessant talking and social awkwardness? Or was it her desire to be one of the cool kids? Ah yes, and her self-proclaimed title, Superstar!? Before you start thinking my brother was a total jerk, let's keep in mind, I was his little sister and what little sister isn't the thorn in an older sibling's side? It's likely that I had a little of each of my MKG's characteristics, yet my guess is that the one that stuck out to him m...

We managed to keep ourselves away from the stores on black Friday. Mostly because I tied Andy to a chair with duct tape and turned off our wireless. Despite the success in giving thanks for non-retail items on Thanksgiving Day itself, the allure of the sales, and the need for a place to park our butts in the living room, led us to go shopping that weekend. Anyone who braves stores during this time of year knows that you must be armed and prepared. You must have a plan of attack. You should have already had several cups of coffee, bring bottled water, wear comfortable shoes, and figure out where to park so you can run in and not be cold because you left your bulky coat in the car. You should bring your shopping list and stick to your budget. Buy yourself something, just because. Oh, and bring your patience because the crazies are out. Shopping for the holidays, especially at the big box stores, means wall-to-wall people. People who are tired, stressed, hungry, rushed, etc. It's ...

Every woman has that signature piece in her wardrobe, maybe it's an LBD (Little Black Dress), a pair of red pumps, that blouse that hits her curves in just the right places, an infinity scarf, skinny jeans that show off her Beyoncé butt, or a boyfriend T that looks way better on her than it ever did on him. No matter what the piece may be, it's her go to when she wants to look amazing and confident and comfortable in her own skin. I, too, have a signature piece in my wardrobe. Now, if you don't know my style, let me break it down for you. First, I have to talk about my non-professional attire, which consists of two looks: day aka workout clothes and night aka pajamas. If I'm not working, I'm working out and when I'm done working out I'm still wearing work out clothes. And no, I don't mean that I go home and shower and put on the latest Kate Hudson brand outfit and Nike sneaks meant for coolness and not exercise. I mean, I work out in the morning and t...

Not long ago, Andy told me he wanted to run for local political office and I cringed. When we married we became a pair. A dynamic duo. Decisions that Andy makes impact me and decisions I make impact him. For better. For worse. When Andy told me he wanted to run for the position, I felt bad for him and I felt bad for myself. I crafted a quick list of reasons why Andy should not make this decision which started with considerable time away from the family and ended with being in the public eye....with me. I felt like he should know better because he knows me. Apparently not. I have vivid memories of being a kid and my mom telling me, "Don't do that! Don't say that!" Of course, most moms say something like this to their child at some point. Kids have no filter and are naturally curious. They make a little too loud observations about others, they wear funny outfits, and pick their noses in public. Somewhere along the way, kids learn that they aren't to ask a strange...

I've been thinking a lot about a recent article about #luckiestgirl which describes the use and popularity of the phrase luckiest girl on social media. The article (which can be found here: http://www.theatlantic.com/health/archive/2015/09/luckygirl-hashtag-instagram/406420/) states that the hashtag, which has been used over a million times on Instagram, and has now inspired a book, represents women's need to feel "effortlessly perfect" and of course, social media is a breeding ground for misrepresentation of the truth and the projection of perfection. It seems women are unable to take credit when credit is due, or feel that demonstrating having put forth effort somehow demeans the overall accomplishment. The article concludes with a quote from actress and comedian Mindy Kaling who says that for adults, admitting that one is working hard is a "weird thing." It comes as no surprise that men use the word lucky, and hash tag it, significantly less than women...

It's that time. I am too tired and wiped out to write anything of substance but I promised myself I'd write at least every two weeks so I'll do some haikus. I promise a better blog very soon! Many ideas circulating in the cob webbed brain of mine. Bad Blood Singing Taylor Swift, So catchy, yet annoying. Time to grow up girl. Luckiest Boy Making fun of him is my favorite thing to do. Married to me. Lucky Boy. Children Kids! Go to bed now! She tells me to stop yelling then kisses my feet. The Bus Dave takes the day off. The substitute drives by us. We really miss Dave. Our Anniversary Aint got time for much. No lingerie. No dinner. Love of eleven. The Dog Otis out of crate At the door, when we get home. Forgot to lock door. Downton Abbey Downton, my candy. How do I love thee, you ask. Let me count the ways.

Andy is part introvert and part extrovert. At work he is a total extrovert and can talk to anyone at any time. And talk, and talk, and talk. At home, he is an introvert. He is rarely chatty and generally does not start chatty-type conversations with me or the girls. For example, I like to have philosophical conversations about life. I might ask Andy if he thinks we will go to heaven when we die. Andy would ask a question more like this, "What are your plans tonight? Can you watch the kids because I need to go change out a lock at one of the apartments." Our responses to one another's question prompts are equally different. Andy, in response to the heaven question would say, "I don't know." I, in response to the being home question would say, "I don't understand why you have to change out that lock. Did you not just change out a lock last week? How much is it going to cost? Can't you pay someone to do it for you? This is a big problem. I'm n...

In just a few days time, my little Charlotte heads off to the Big K. No, she's not going shopping for blue light specials at the discount retailer. She's headed to Kindergarten. Kindergarten: the best year you'll ever have, full of fun, friends, and big steps. Back in ye olden times, when I was a kid, going to Kindergarten may have been the first time a child was away from her mom or dad for the day. It may have been the first time a child was in a group with other children, eating meals not cooked by family, following rules set forth by strange adults. The first bus rides. The first backpack. The first time to put one's name in her coat and boots. The first invitations to other kids' birthday parties. The first fight on the playground. For Charlotte, and many of her peers, she has experienced all of these before she ever set foot in the Kindergarten classroom. Charlotte is a daycare kid. Only three months after her birth, she was placed into the hands of a non-f...

As a little girl I had long hair that fell to the middle of my back. My mom and I spent countless hours in a tug of war-her trying to hold me down to comb it and me trying to get away while screaming as loudly as possible about the injustice of her brutality. We struggled together for year after year and many a childhood memory includes a tangle of long, matted hair. From lice scares to mopping vomit from its ends, my hair was always there, resting over my shoulders as a part of me. I never thought much about it, it was just always there. Until middle school when I had a sleep over with a few friends. It was then that I realized the power that hair has as a part of our identity. It took only a few minutes and a pair of semi-sharp shears and I went from having those long locks that brushed over my shoulder blades to an un-even, shoulder-length bob; that changed my life forever. I went from being a nerdy middle school girl who wanted nothing more than to be a wall flower to a teenager...

I've always felt let down by big events. I generally try to avoid too much ado on my birthday, It started as a kid and continued into adulthood. On my fifth birthday, things took a turn for the worse when I got upset, hung from the railing on the porch of my house, and called the kids f*ckers. The day was officially ruined (for me) when the kids had to go home and took their gifts with them. I haven't sworn at anyone since then but I just prefer the day come and go, always with the hope that, maybe, just maybe, my fairy godmother will come and take me away to a magical place that will blow my mind and fulfill my every last dream. (It never happens.) Most holidays depress me as well, and, in particular, New Year's Eve, is often just sad. How can anyone have any fun in the cold and snow? Even large amounts of alcohol don't make it better and all I end up doing is trying to talk on a phone that turns out to be a tape dispenser or I wake the next morning feeling like* S...

Some have accused me of being a nerd, of being a school lover. I'm not afraid of the fact that I greatly enjoy learning and, as a youth, I wanted to go to school (almost) every day. I found many classes enlightening, eye opening and passion igniting. As an adult, I miss being in the classroom and I miss reading amazing books and feeling transformed after a class discussion. It's probably not too much of a surprise that I didn't mind writing papers, either. However, there were a lot of things about school that I didn't particularly like. And I mean besides experiencing puberty in front of an audience of critical peers, participating in pep rallies, and not having enough time between class periods to get my books from my locker and go to the bathroom. Academically speaking, in my mind, there was nothing worse than math class and group projects. p> I just cringe thinking back to algebra, geometry, and in college- number theory (a math class in which we wrote about ...

Andy recently sent me an article (http://elitedaily.com/life/culture/optimistic-people-have-one-thing-common-always-late/1097735/)touting that people who are optimistic have one thing in common- they are all late. The article, written by someone who is always late, expresses sympathy for tardy people, and states that tardiness is hard wired in one's brain. That's right. People who are late have no choice. They were born this way. The downside is that society harshly criticizes these delayed folks, especially American society, a group of people who are particularly hard on the late arrivals. The author writes, "When people are late, it’s assumed they feel their time is more important or valuable. Americans believe time is money and money is time." Despite the challenges late people have to face in this world full of judgmental jerks, there is good news, the author writes. "Chronically late people aren't hopeless, they're hopeful." These happy-go-lu...

I have loved writing this blog over the last eight years. It's been therapeutic in many ways. It has also connected me with others, either to just to give them a good laugh or maybe because I have written something they've gone through, too. Or, perhaps, it just given someone insight into my life. I've loved sharing my life through this medium, however, there is a part of my life I have previously chosen not to share- until now. Last fall, I wrote an essay in response to the question, what was your eureka moment. I decided I wasn't ready to share the essay on my blog, until this week. I wasn't sure if it was my story to tell yet I have chosen to share for two reasons- Caroline and Charlotte. Caroline has struggled with anxiety this spring and has had a lot of questions. Charlotte, my very vocal extrovert, is always there to illuminate. This week, in the car on the way to preschool, Char was listening to iTunes and she chose the song Secrets by Mary Lambert. If you...

Breaking News! Folks around this Upstate Village have reported numerous sightings, in recent days, of a man helping citizens (allegedly) in need. This man, unknown in identity, is tall, handsome, appears quite snuggly, and drives a small, black hatchback. This mystery man is leaving a memorable mark on our little town and has being fondly referred to as our new superhero, Micromanage-Man. "I was loading my dishwasher yesterday," Sally Stay-At-Home Mom told this reporter, "And, suddenly a guy walked into my kithen and started re-arranging all of the dirty dishes in my dishwasher. He didn't look me in the eye, but he was sure I heard him say that the plates must be arranged in such a way or else the water won't get on them and they'll come out with food on them." When asked if he introduced himself, she said, "No, he never even told me his name. When he marched out the door, he said to me, "Never put the plastic on the bottom again or it's...

This is my confession. I've been thinking through this post for a long time. Finding the right words has been challenging and I hope that I can do justice to this message. The world is a mysterious and magical place. I believe in fate. I believe that the universe speaks to us, if we are willing to listen. Yes, we must listen. If we listen very closely, we can hear messages. Very important messages. Messages from very important people. I don't remember when I got my first message. It may have been in college. College is a tough time, full of end-of-teen/not-yet-an adult angst and studying, studying, and more studying. For me to study my best, I need music. I know it's odd but stuff seems to sink in when I'm listening to music. Music helps me focus. Music like that of the great Phil Collins. To me, it's not a cooincidence that I hear Phil at least every day. And no, it's not because I have all of his albums downloaded on my ipod or that I have a Phil Collin...

If you invite your socially awkward spouse to a party, he's going to ask you if he has to go. When you say yes, he'll probably tell you he's come down ill. When you tell him he's bluffing, he'll ask if you can postpone. Then, he'll complain the whole way there that he doesn't know anybody and he has "nothing in common with these people." When you get there, he'll hover awkwardly behind you, so you'll have to get used to having a giant shadow. When he builds the confidence to stand next to you, he'll want you to do all of the talking. When you do all of the talking, he'll later tell you that you were too animated and all of your arm movements, and nodding in agreement, and smiling, made him nervous. As you talk, he'll stand in a corner, thumbing his phone. You'll give him the eyebrow raise, aka code for get over here, but he's too busy checking his fantasy team and fantasizing that he is far, far away from here. You...

Have you given a lot of thought to what makes a good life partner? Have you wondered if there is such a thing as a soul mate? When I was younger, I have to confess, I didn't think about it at all. Not one bit. I may have thought about what makes a good partner for....an evening....or a mate for...a good time...(Did I just write that publicly?)As a young adult, life was not about the future, it was about the moment and what I wanted at that exact moment. I wasn't looking for a soul mate. When I was 22, I'm not sure I had a soul to mate with another. When I met Andy, those fancy, scientific-y dating websites weren't around, or at least weren't considered reputable. For me, "dating" in my late teens and early twenties required minimal thought and generally included excessive amounts of alcohol, karaoke and bad decision-making. Given my poor planning, the fact that I have been co-habitating with the same person for 14 years, and married to him for 10, is a li...

Before the sun rises most mornings, I can hear a little voice down the hallway. In my just awoken state, it almost sounds like a room full of people, laughing, talking, dreaming, and exisiting in an alternate reality. A reality that does not involve the boring day-to-day morning tasks associated with adulthood, like feeding the pets, packing lunch bags, showering and mentally motivating for the day ahead. In this room, a little girl is in a world all of her own. With a flashlight and a stuffed animal, a bunch of markers and a notebook, she is a princess in a castle. She is making friends, negotiating situations, and solving problems. She's in charge. She is the leader of her own world, an imaginary world that exists nowhere and everywhere at the same time. Without a word, she follows me around the house as I get ready. She carries a basket or a bag loaded with paper, crayons, stuffed animals and stickers. I watch from the corner of my eye as she draws a large, one-eyed rainbow...