I’m Always in My Way
I’m what a “diplomatic person” calls a perfectionist and what a “person who loves me” calls a “f#$@king nut”. I want everything to be just right. And, guess how often that happens? Not often enough. For example, I sat down this weekend with the intention to work on Mommy’s Open Diary during Shawn’s nap which of course he decided to wake up early (each time). It’s as if he knows that mommy has something that she wants to do while he is sleeping, so let’s have a massive poop and start shouting incoherently.Then, last night, after putting Shawn soundly to bed, I turned on the computer ready to...
Read MoreDream Big
I woke up this morning with a thought…“Most dreams are strongest when you are experiencing them. Then, when you awake the memory feels real but a bit distant. And, as time passes, the details of the dream become a blur…yet the feeling always remains.” Today marks the birthday of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., as well as the 2nd inauguration of our nation’s first African-American President, Barack Obama. During the president’s first campaign my son Shawn wasn’t even an idea. Yet, I did see how Barack Obama’s run for office affected other children. Of course, for most...
Read MoreWhat’s A Weekend To A Baby?
Babies could give a damn about “three-day” weekends, or any “weekend” for that matter. Do you know why? Because babies are survivalist who only care about themselves. Before Shawn came along, my husband and I lived for the weekends…they were our holy grail…damn near sacred! We went to bed late and woke up even later. You try calling us at 12 noon on a Saturday and best believe you’re getting the voicemail. When we were hungry we went out to eat, we took naps, we’d drink wine, we’d engage in “adult activities” (which got us...
Read MoreGun Control–Just Hear Me Out!
If I would have heard the news regarding Sandy Hook Elementary School 16 months ago, before the birth of my first born son, I am sure I would have been horrified that something so vile could happen to innocent people. But, last month, as my son laid in his crib for his afternoon nap, news surfaced that a man took the lives of 20 children ranging in the age of five and six, as well as killing six teachers who died protecting them, my breathe became swallow, my heart raced, my knees buckled, heat rose threw my body, my eyes welled with tears and I instantly felt nauseous. I didn’t move....
Read MoreAs Seen on BlogHer
As Seen on BlogHer