Category Archives for "Holidays"


That’s me, bitch-slapping 2011 to the curb where, if there is a God, it will be run over by an endless herd of confused, pissed-off, incontinent, irritable bowel suffering buffalo with elongated, oozing testicles and no sense of direction.

These were, above and beyond, the absolute worst 365 continuous days I have ever had to endure and I’ve never been so ready to slap a new calendar on my fridge in all my life and not just because it will hide those mysterious streaks that won’t go away no matter how many times I scrub them raw with a Windex/vinegar/DAMMIT DAMMIT SHIT BALLS DAMMIT WHAT THE HELL concoction.

Let’s hear it for a brand new shiny year filled with skyrocketing 401Ks, plummeting gas prices, awesome shoes, ULTA coupons that never expire, Anderson Cooper cell phone numbers in my Inbox and a new, easy FDA-approved method of getting rid of unwanted facial hair and husbands who spend $areyoufuckingkiddingme  because they can’t keep their pants zipped.

Let’s hear it for fresh starts, new beginnings and a whole mess of magnificent happy!

Let’s hear it for a better run for all of us in 2012 and isn’t it nice that we’ll get 366 days to celebrate it instead of 365? I’m going to yell YOU BET YOUR SKINNIER, FIRMER, LESS CELLULITE-FUL ASS on that one because I’m an optimist.

Happy new year, everyone! May we find ourselves actually living these days instead of simply surviving them.




I’ve got so many flecks of Dusty Moss in my hair, I look like a premenopausal chia pet. And I feel just like an emotionally unstable Van Gogh, except I typed this with two ears.

I’m sorry I haven’t been around lately.

I’ve been busy having an emotional breakdown or two. Or thirty.

God, those things are exhausting.

But I take a breather every so often to paint!

Painting is so much more constructive than losing my shit, even if it is sweatier.

No portraits or landscapes or still lifes for me, though. I’m painting walls. A lot of them. Just in case you were wondering how a simple watercolor brush could make my right bicep look pregnant and cause my entire arm to hang lower than my kneecaps.

If I had known that the collateral damage from having my life implode would result in me acting upon those sudden and irresistible urges to splash some color on all the walls of my house? I would have asked Nate to lose his mind years ago. As it is, my family room and my bedroom now look years younger. And bonus! On days I forget to shave, I am being mistaken for a lopsided primate.

Go ahead. Be jealous.

Soon, I hope to show you our new photo wall in our freshly painted family room. I have to make sure that all the frames are absolutely, utterly and perfectly aligned because otherwise, THE WORLD WILL TOTALLY END. Also? It’s damn near impossible to take a picture of an unaligned photo wall when my left eye is twitching and I’m having a seizure.

In the meantime, I wanted to thank you all again for your comments, thoughts and prayers. They have brought me such comfort, you would not believe. You guys are like warm, gooey macaroni and cheese, without all the belching and quadruple bypass. To maintain a few shreds of dignity in this mess, I won’t be writing about what’s happening over here except to simply say that if you’ve been around here for awhile, you know that my family, even the furry, pooping member, is my life. Nothing is more important to me. I’m willing to fight tooth and nail for us. To keep us, us. I have no idea if we will survive but I can’t live with myself if I don’t try. So? Here’s to some big, fat globs of hope that I don’t wind up walking this earth alone with bloody fingertips, gumming baby food, for naught.

I hope you all have a wonderful weekend.




I could use a Mother’s Day at least once a month. Twice during football season.

Breakfast in bed …  my favorite oatmeal, made just the way I like it.

Served around 9:00 a.m.

And it was even warm.

A handmade card – my favorite kind!




Great cook

Wishes to not have to do laundry

Dreams of getting Oliver housebroken

Wants to win the lottery

Who wonders what she’ll do when Zoe goes to college

Who fears bedbugs in hotels

Who prefers to avoid bridges

Who likes chocolate

Who believes I will be a great student

Who loves her family

Who loves photography

Who loves Oliver

Who loves herself

Who plans to get Oliver in puppy kindergarten

Who plans to go to New York City again

Who plans to make her blog bigger

I love you mom



I invented them.

Not the furry one.

I’m so very grateful to be a mom.

How was your Mother’s Day?



The day I call my uterus in the retirement home to thank it

It’s Mother’s Day! The one day out of the year when my husband and my kids are bound by law to celebrate my stretch marks.

Last year, the girls and I treated ourselves to pedicures. My piggies are the red ones at the bottom. This year? I have no idea yet. But as long as I don’t have to cook it or clean it or referee it or take it out to potty, I’ll be happy.

I wish all you moms out there a breakfast in bed, a ginormous squeezy hug, a sweet flower, a card that makes you cry, and a phone call if your kids are far away and last but certainly not least, a big, fat I LOVE YOU.

Enjoy your day!



Today is …

… Easter Sunday, a day that holds little significance for me as I am not particularly religious. However, I am married to a good Catholic boy. This means that today, when we get together with my husband’s family, they will celebrate the resurrection of Christ and I will pilfer Easter baskets and celebrate the resurrection of my lust for dark chocolates and red jelly beans.

… our first day back from a week long vacation, a day that is significant only because of the mountain of laundry and the empty pantry that accompanies it, both of which I intend to ignore because with any luck, I will be in a diabetic coma in an entirely different location. See above.

… April 24, 2011, a day that is very significant for me and which I intend to celebrate thoroughly because it marks the seventeenth anniversary of one of the best things I ever did with my life.

Happy birthday, baby girl!


Your mom



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