Why I won’t apologize for being #basic

In honor of #flashbackFriday and because I am missing fall so hard right now, here’s a piece I wrote for Mommyish.com about the joys of being a #basic adult after a not-so-basic beginning.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go into the closet and stare longingly at my sweaters


In sickness and in health

I’m losing him in pieces.

On the day we shouted our vows to each other over the sound of the breaking waves I never imagined that our live together would find me sitting on a series of waiting room chairs, wondering if this is the last time, or the start of another nightmare.

The tip of a finger here, a chunk of flesh from a wrist there. An unidentified mass from an upper eyelid. These random and rare accidents and ailments that befall him and I’m helpless to protect him from dangers unknown.

I can’t help but wonder if when the end comes will there even be enough left of him to mourn.

The Double Edged Sword That Is Working From Home

Every so often I work through my social awkwardness enough to chat with a fellow mom, and when the topic of what I do for a living comes up, the responses are always the same:

“You’re so lucky.”

“Must be nice to stay home with the kids all day.”

“I want to be a writer too.”

And because I have no filter, this is when I usually launch into the story about the post I wrote that led to men saying they wished I would get sexually assaulted, and then suddenly I’m sitting alone at one end of the story time circle (I’m working on my people skills).

Crazy comments aside, working from home is anything but the idyllically solution to daycare so many believe it to be.  Whenever I see a blog post with a carefully posed image of the writers “work space”, I snort, because this is what my “office” looks like:

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I write standing, not for the cardiovascular benefits, but because any attempt to sit will lead to me being promptly swarmed but four little limbs trying to climb into my lap and press random buttons. My editors are very forgiving, but seeing aiglha0ew946j@*$&(  mid paragraph is not going to win me any street cred with the readers.

The boys have been waging a battle against nap time recently, and I’m sad to report that their winning the war (though they lost the battle today, hence the time to dash off this post) so my precious afternoons where I would write  the stories that matter most to be and secretly nibble Oreos seem to be numbered.

So yes, getting to wear yoga pants everyday is sweet, and so is the freedom to take a day off whenever one of the kids gets sick. But having to keep one eye on the screen and the other on the toddlers who are trying and failing to use their potties is the trade off when you’re trying to work and mom at the same time. I never worry about getting a large ego from my writing, because I spent most of the morning cleaning up poop and begging the kids to keep their diapers on.

I know I’m lucky to be able to do what I love while staying at home and most days I’m very appreciative of my situation. But that doesn’t stop me from wishing I had an office chair, at the very least.

image: Mine, all mine.

How I Realized I Was Old: A Tale Of Disgust

I used to think I was pretty savvy when it came to slang words. But the other night I experienced something so horrible I cried, both because my ears could not unhear what they had heard and because I knew my days of being with it were absolutely behind me.

As a teenager, “yoink” and “SIKE” rolled off my tongue with ease, “Talk to the hand!” was my go-to comeback. In college I spent my summers as a camp counselor for middle-school and high school students, which kept me abreast of the latest in how to talk about sexual things indirectly (I’m looking at you, rainbow colored rubber bracelets).

In my young 20s I snickered with my girlfriends as recalled explaining to my bosses the meaning behind phrases like “booty call”, “pearl necklace” and “teabagging”. Everyone my age knew what these things were, and I couldn’t imagine there was a time that I would ever be the one who was old and out of touch.

Until now.

There I was, enjoying a late-night session of mommyporn (Pinterest, cat videos and Ryan Gosling memes)  when I stumbled across a Buzzfeed video titled: What is Truffle Butter. Because I often watch Buzzfeed videos of millennials trying weird foods, I thought this going to be just another video of gangly Keith Habersberger making quips about fancy butter made with expensive mushrooms, so I hit play.

If I had a delorean, I’d go back and change what happened next, but I can’t.

As it turns out, truffle butter is, in fact a delicacy, if your idea of good eats is slurping up bodily fluids from your lover’s neither regions after a combination of sex acts. Think about that for a second. Got it? I know, here, use my bucket.

Not only was I thoroughly grossed out by what I’d just learned, combined with my horror was the tragic realization that I was no longer down with the cool kids. I’m disgusted on so many levels right now.

Image via MorgueFile/doctor_bob

How To Be A Writer In 9 Easy Steps

13-04-26 Lilac Garden-27

1. Have brilliant idea for a piece while in a location with no pen or paper i.e. while in the shower.

2. Spend two days trying to remember that idea.

3. Remember idea and dash to laptop where you write what is sure to be your defining literary work.

4. Save draft and go to bed with visions of awards and job offers dancing in your head.

5. Wake up and decide the piece is garbage.

6. Lean on writer friends and Ben & Jerry until you gather the courage to hit submit.

7. Hit refresh on your email.

8. Hit refresh on your email.

9. Hit refresh on your email….


Why The Paleo Diet Trend Needs To Die

uLHS2OFQ**Trigger Warning: This post discusses disordered eating. If you are in recovery and don’t want to go there, I give you both snaps and this kitten video  instead.**

I have a bone to pick with the Paleo diet. For most of college, I dabbled in disordered eating, exercise bulimia and some purging behaviors. After years of hard work both in therapy and by myself, I found my way to a better place- until the Paleo diet came along.

Touted as the “Cave Man diet”, Paleo cuts out grains, legumes, dairy, refined sugar and potatoes completely out of your diet.  What’s a major indicator of disordered eating? The labeling of certain foods as “bad” and avoiding them entirely. Suddenly there was a way to go about my disordered eating and not only would no one try to stop me, they were joining me.

Ten years ago, if I went out for some friends for lunch and ordered a chicken salad, but asked for no cheese, no croutons and no dressing on it, my friends would- without fail- be all over me for “starving myself”. Now I can go out with the same exact friends and place that same exact order, but by uttering the words “I’m trying Paleo”, not only are they excited and want to talk about it, some of them may change their order to match mine.

Let me be clear- I’m not saying anyone on the Paleo diet has an eating disorder. But for those of us who do struggle with disordered eating, the Paleo diet and other restrictive diets like it (Gluten-Free, Dairy Free) offer handy excuses to use in order to hide in plain sight. While those with normal eating habits may find Paleo offers them useful guidelines for eating healthy and feeling great, I have to consciously work to avoid hopping on the bandwagon. Hearing others talk about how much they love the Paleo diet makes me yearn to try it, I’m jealous when I hear about how much weight they’ve lost or how much energy they have, but I know I can’t trust myself not to go overboard and end up in a place where I’m not getting the nutrition I need.

Can we bring back Atkins? I hate bacon, so ignoring that wasn’t a struggle for me. Or the honey  cayenne pepper cleanse thing again? I can’t wait for a new diet trend to sweep the nation. Until then, I’ll take it one day (and one gluten filled meal) at a time.

(Image: 5demayo/morguefiles.com)

I’m Going To Disney World!

chef mickeysMy family vacations at Walt Disney World usually once a year. (okay fine, last year we went 4 times but that just sort of happened). Anyway, I’ve written about it for Mommyish.com and wanted to share it here in case there are any other Disney addicts out there. Be warned- the link about taking babies to WDW got more comments than anything I’ve ever written. Turns out people have very strong feelings about the house of Mouse.

The 9 Families You Won’t Be Able To Avoid At Disney

Keep Your Eyeroll Over My Disney Vacation To Yourself

Do you have plans to take a Disney vacation or have you been recently? Let’s share stories!

(image: Author’s own)