Memory Lane


Today’s post is a writing challenge. This is how it works: participating bloggers picked 4 – 6 words or short phrases for someone else to craft into a post. All words must be used at least once and all the posts will be unique as each writer has received their own set of words. That’s the challenge, here’s a fun twist; no one who’s participating knows who got their words and in what direction the writer will take them. Until now.

At the end of this post you’ll find links to the other blogs featuring this challenge. Check them all out, see what words they got and how they used them.

My words are:

mail ~ light ~ processing ~ ready ~ flea market

They were submitted by:

As you may or may not know, I’ve had a long-standing love affair with Adam Levine.  If our relationship were a Facebook status it would read “it’s complicated.” We’ve certainly weathered our fair share of storms over the years.  We had some really good times, Adam and I.


Our Christmas photo from a few years back

Ours was truly a star-crossed love, timing was never really on our side.  Fate can be a cruel mistress.  I’m still processing our separation these past few years, but it all inevitably comes surging back as “The Voice” airs on television each season.  I haven’t really felt ready to face the pain of the distance forced between us by circumstances beyond our control.


Our romantic beach hideaway vacation


I was reminiscing about my twitter campaign for Adam love a few years ago, back when I had twitter followers and was quite active on twitter.  He can’t follow me on twitter for obvious reasons, you know the whole secret part of our epic love story, but I thought what better way to throw the paparazzi off the scent than to pretend I was desperate for Adam to follow me on twitter, so I launched the “follow me Adam” campaign.  I had the majority of my followers tweeting Adam begging politely requesting that Adam should definitely follow me on Twitter.  He’d pick random normal every day people to follow from time to time and while there was nothing ordinary or every day about our love, he could have pretended and followed me back.  He’s overly cautious my Adam, and didn’t want to throw a giant spotlight on our romance, so alas I have to report that he never did follow me on twitter (sad emoji).


Our winter wonderland kind of love

Sometimes I think perhaps I should mail in my singing demo to “The Voice,” just to get on the show so I can see him again.  Not that I can sing.  At all.  But I mean this is my fantasy so obviously I would get on the show.  I’d be wearing some cute vintage 80’s outfit I picked up at a flea market outside of town.  I’d even krimp my hair (is that back yet?) I’d be some hybrid Cyndi Lauper/Madonna type performer.  Obviously, he’d recognize me instantly.  The shock of seeing me again turning his hair blonde…(not a good look).  I’d get a four chair turn where I’d pretend to be giddy about Blake and those dimples, but really I’d only have eyes for Adam.  And he wouldn’t be able to look away (obviously).  We’d have a moment.  A lingering full body hug.  He’d whisper secret things in my ear.  I can’t tell you!  It’s a secret.  I’d feel all warm, fuzzy and validated.  It would be just like old times.

(Adam, if you’re reading this and why wouldn’t you be (duh!), you can follow me on Instagram.  I won’t tell…hardly anyone.  Much. Ish.  I promise (fingers crossed). You really should.  You know you want to.  Why deny yourself life’s little pleasures?  Doooooo eeeeeeet.  <3)


One of my all-time favorite pics of us!

Thanks for indulging me on this walk down memory lane. I’ll leave you with these pics of our children, or what our children would have looked like rather had we had them together.  Assuming of course we didn’t have a love child or two.  Or did we?  Stay vigilant, you never know…

Links to the other “Use Your Words” posts:


Baking In A Tornado              

Spatulas on Parade         

The Diary of an Alzheimer’s Caregiver

On the Border                 

Dinosaur Superhero Mommy   

The Bergham Chronicles        

Confessions of a part time working mom

Southern Belle Charm          

The Angrivated Mom                


Not That Sarah Michelle          

My Brain Has Left The Building…

Today’s post is a writing challenge. This is how it works: participating bloggers picked 4 – 6 words or short phrases for someone else to craft into a post. All words must be used at least once and all the posts will be unique as each writer has received their own set of words. That’s the challenge, here’s a fun twist; no one who’s participating knows who got their words and in what direction the writer will take them. Until now.

At the end of this post you’ll find links to the other blogs featuring this challenge. Check them all out, see what words they got and how they used them.

My words are:

Ferris wheel ~ shortage ~ Saturn ~ collectibles ~ iron-clad ~ catchy

They were submitted by:

I’ve been staring at these words for over a week now, and I still don’t know what I’m going to write about.  The struggle is real.  I even tried to get inspiration from man-child.

Me:  “Help me write my blog this week using words like Saturn, Ferris wheel and collectibles.”

Man-child:  “Saturn is a nice planet.  Wanna see my crocodile pushups?”

Me:  “That’s it?  That’s all you got for me?  Saturn is a nice planet?”

Man-child:  “I can’t do your homework for you mom, that’s what you always tell me.”

Usually I feel like I’m always writing stories in my head, so it completely blows when my head is empty.  Well not empty exactly.  It feels like being stuck at the top of a Ferris Wheel.  The whole world appears stretched out before you, but you can’t make out details.  Everything looks small and far away, and instead of a clear picture, you’re left with vague impressions and an overwhelming sense of how truly small you are in the big scheme of things.

I’ve got a million thoughts floating around but can’t get a firm grasp on any of them, and some of them I’d like to forget altogether.  I think the current political climate of our country is turning my usually clear and concise thoughts and ideas into a jumbled mess of mush.  There seems to be a shortage of common sense among my fellow Americans.  I’m not going to make this a political post because that’s just not in my wheelhouse, but the whole process has left a bitter taste in my mouth, and I’m so over it.

I saw a news story about a new dating website called Maple Match, where you can find a nice Canadian and settle down in your new country if you don’t like our next President and want to flee the U.S.  I kinda wish Adam Levine was Canadian. You can also resettle on a low-pop island in Canada should you choose to do so.  Canada has produced some very yummy eye candy, not gonna lie.  Men like:  Ryan Gosling, Taylor Kitsch, Scott Speedman, Drake, Nathan Fillion, Justin Bieber…okay well, I could have just stopped at Ryan Gosling, let’s be honest.  And so you men don’t feel left out, we have Rachel McAdams, Elisha Cuthbert, Evangeline Lilly, Nina Dobrev…  Every time I turn on the news, I seriously consider just relocating to Saturn and starting my own colony. I mean, according to man-child, it’s a nice planet.  Those rings are sexy.

I do enjoy this spotify commercial, it’s catchy.

Honest and open dialogue doesn’t seem to exist anymore.  I sometimes have the overwhelming sensation that the whole world has lost it’s collective mind.  All of our tiny brains sitting in tiny jars, lined up from one end of the universe to another, sold to aliens as collectibles, evidence of our folly and arrogance.

Somehow in my ramblings, I’ve managed to use almost all my words.  I’m channeling my inner Donald.  Over 600 words, yet I didn’t really say anything.  No matter who we end up electing, is it possible to get an iron-clad prenup?  So, if we wake up and realize what a huge mistake we’ve made, no matter which side you find yourself camped on, we can extricate ourselves as painlessly and quickly as possible?

At least Jon Snow is alive (for you Game of Thrones fans).  And Adam Levine is back to his super sexy self on The Voice.  And I’ve got a Kindle full of great books to lose myself in.  All is not lost…  Excuse me while I fall back into my #showhole and finish watching all the episodes of Criminal Minds (I’m on season 8).

I wish I could have done my words better justice, but at least you have these other incredible writers to peruse at your leisure and help fill the void I’ve left you with today ❤

Links to the other “Use Your Words” posts:

I’d Prefer A “Desserted” Island (get it?)

“Someone asked me, if I were stranded on a deserted island what book would I bring…How To Build A Boat.” Steven Wright

Welcome to a Secret Subject Swap. This week 14 brave bloggers picked a secret subject for someone else and were assigned a secret subject to interpret in their own style. Today we are all simultaneously divulging our topics and submitting our posts.

My “Secret Subject” is:

You are going to spend a month on a deserted island, but you can only bring 3 things (not people) with you. What are they and why?

It was submitted by:

Heaven.  That was the first word that came to mind when I imagined myself on a deserted island with no other people. Peace and quiet. Solitude.  And then…boredom.  It sounds so awesome in theory, but I’d probably be dying of boredom within the 1st hour. Unless I could bring Adam Levine, but the prompt quite clearly says…no people.  Boo!  If I could get Adam on a deserted island for 30 days, well… I’ll keep this G rated.

(On a sidenote, he’s (Adam, of course) having a baby ya’ll! I hope he/she gets his cotton candy colored hair…)


Anyway, I digress…

Actually, if I’m being honest, my first thought was a “desserted” island, sort of like Willy Wonka’s chocolate factory meets The Blue Lagoon, all brownie trees, chocolate chip cookie dough beaches and whip cream clouds.

I remember seeing the movie “Blue Lagoon” with Brooke Shields for the first time.  I always felt like she and I were kindred spirits, with our long brown hair and bushy eyebrows.  I spent many a teenage angsty moment living on the Blue Lagoon with the boy crush of the moment. But again, can’t take boys, so what to bring, what to bring…

The three things I would bring to a deserted island for a month…hmmm.  The only restriction was that I couldn’t bring people, so keeping that in mind, here is my list:

1) Tiny House – I am OBSESSED with the tiny house movement.


I’ve told my kids repeatedly that when I get rather advanced in years, they can just plop one of these babies in the backyard, and I’ll live there quite happily till the day I die.  This assumes my husband goes first, I don’t think we could share a tiny house cause…reasons.

But seriously, how adorable are these tiny houses!

2)  A boat –  so I could leave the deserted island as needed to alleviate boredom and should the occasion arise that I miss other humans (doubtful but possible).  By boat, what I mean is…


Go big or go home! Naturally (in what has quickly turned into a fantasy vacation), I would know how to operate this yacht, since I’m not allowed to bring people to my island.

3) my iPad – probably the one thing I truly couldn’t live without, mostly because of the kindle app.  I don’t need wifi to read books on my kindle and I have enough books downloaded on it to last for years probably, not just a month.  I’d construct myself a hammock made from the natural materials found on my little island, cause naturally it’s my fantasy and I’m the female MacGyver.  Ya’ll remember MacGyver right?  It was a television show about an average guy who thwarts his enemies by making complicated machines out of ordinary things you might find under your couch cushions, like pennies and paper clips.


I think I made three really solid choices.  In fact, I may never leave this island.  Don’t worry, I’ll allow visitors.  It’ll be BYOTH (bring your own tiny house)!

“I have to say, if someone literally said to me, ‘You’re going off to a desert island, what is the one thing you would bring?’ I would say, ‘It’s my concealer or you can just kill me now.’ I’ve thought this through! Because I would find, like, berries in a bowl and make blush.”  Drew Barrymore


Here are links to all the sites now featuring Secret Subject Swap posts.  Sit back, grab a cup, and check them all out. See you there:

All Good Things…

“In the End, we will remember not the words of our enemies, but the silence of our friends.” Martin Luther King, Jr.

Use Your Words

Today’s post is a writing challenge. This is how it works: participating bloggers picked 4 – 6 words or short phrases for someone else to craft into a post. All words must be used at least once and all the posts will be unique as each writer has received their own set of words. That’s the challenge, here’s a fun twist; no one who’s participating knows who got their words and in what direction the writer will take them. Until now.

At the end of this post you’ll find links to the other blogs featuring this challenge. Check them all out, see what words they got and how they used them.

My words are:

barren ~ forget ~ calamity ~ sovereign ~ smooth ~ lofty

They were submitted by:

I think I have mentioned once or twice, in passing, about my obsession love affair with Adam Levine. He’s inspired many blog posts over the years.


Oh goodness, we had some really good times together.  In the day to day bustle of life, it’s easy to forget how true was our love, however imaginary brief it might have been. I’ve boxed away those treasured times in the annals of my heart’s desires, the memories too painful to revisit upon daily reflection. Our love was true.  Our parting, oh sweet parting, was the greatest calamity of our time. The love affair to end all other love affairs smashed upon the rocky shores of circumstance. The tidal wave of memories washing over me, bittersweet.

It’s difficult to fathom that he would willingly give up all this…


For this…


To each their own I suppose…

Our love a barren landscape now, stripped of the beautiful purity and divine emotion it once held sovereign. 

Our love defined the lofty expectations of the loveless and forgotten. A light to behold in the window of the heart, a beacon to all who gaze upon it, nevermore. Lost.  Adrift in the sea of bitterness and betrayal. Gone forever. Like the awesome twitter account I deleted in a fit of pique, that Adam never followed, even after months and months of campaigning, begging, pleading…but that’s beside the point. Or not the point rather. I’m not sure of the point, now that I think on it… Points are overrated.

For the record, Adam looked like this in the midst of our whirlwind love affair –

But with she-who-must-not-be-named, he has turned into this –


DR. EVIL! I wonder if it’s smooth or stubbly…

AND this –



I can’t even…

I have no words… (’cause I used all 6 already, not that I’m braggin’)

I’m sorry I can barely even type, my eyes drawn to the horror that is that blonde monstrosity sticking up all over his head. He seems to be having trouble finding himself these days, could it be…dare I say it, because he is truly lost without me? I suppose we shall never know.

Oh Adam… As the saying goes, “all good things…” and all that. We must end the madness of our longing, that which will never be again.  The season has passed on our great love, and it’s time we both move forward, forging new paths, however…blonde or bald.

You have to let me go.  Choices have been made, promises given. I will forever treasure our time together, however brief. I wish you all the best in all your future endeavors.  Don’t worry, I’ll still be your faithful stalker follower on The Voice, cheering you on to success.

Just remember, any children you have with she-who-shall-not-be-named will never be as precious or beautiful as our own children would have been…

It’s with tears in my eyes, that I bid you…


(I’m keeping the t-shirt though, and I might still occasionally wear it to bed and hug myself tight…)

Adam Shirt

“Nothing is impossible, the word itself says I’m possible!” Audrey Hepburn

Links to the other “Use Your Words” posts:

A Rose By Any Other Name…


Welcome!  Can you believe it’s already time for another round of Swapapalooza?!?!  If you are new to this fabulous posting tradition, it all began as the brain child of the one and only Baking In A Tornado.  She bakes and blogs, but she only bakes for her family, which I personally find kind of selfish.  I mean, would it kill her to throw some baked goods my way once in a while?  Yeah, I didn’t think so, but I love her anyway and accept this character flaw.  I mean we can’t all be perfect.  Anyway, back to the swap.  It’s a two-part extravaganza!  This week, 15 brave bloggers picked a secret subject for someone else and were assigned a secret subject to interpret in their own style.  Today, we unveil our little masterpieces of awesomeness for you, the readers.  I’ll post the links to the other bloggers at the bottom, but first you must suffer through my special brand of drivel.  Don’t scroll to the bottom!  I can see you!

So, my fabulous topic du jour is “There are truckloads of reasons to LOVE you BUT if you had to live with you what would be the quirks that would HAVE to go?”  My “secret subject” was submitted by the very funny and talented Just A Little Nutty.  She compares her family to fudge, and who doesn’t love fudge!  Although, I probably am more nuts than sweet…but go check her out!

I have to tell you a secret, just between us.  I struggled with this topic.  I mean if I had to live with someone, obviously I would pick me!  I racked my brain for days trying to think of any quirks I don’t find completely fabulous.  As the deadline approached, I began to get a little frantic, so I decided to conduct a little reconnaissance mission to help me in my quest for answers.  I asked the kids and hubs.  Strangely, I had to promise there would be no retribution or loss of the “favorite child” crown.  It’s a testament to me as a mother that all my children believe they are the most favored, and would worry about their standing in the hierarchy of my love.  Anyway, after much wheedling and pestering, I was able to extract a few ideas.  It’s weird though…everyone is kind of hedging around me carefully giving me weird looks, like I could blow at any minute.  I promised no retribution and I meant it.  Of course, I was a little surprised at how quickly one child was able to answer.  I keep assuring her that it’s just allergies causing THAT look, not the stink eye.  Of course, then I checked her grades online, which I haven’t done in a while, so it seemed a good time, and OMG…she is SO grounded.  There was a little screaming and temper tantrum throwing about words like “fairness” and something about “but you told me I could be honest”, but I have no idea what she is talking about.  NONE of us want her living at home forever, so those grades need to come up.

Without further ado, here is what I uncovered:


Me:  “So, if there was ONE thing that YOU had to change about me, because you were forced into it, not because you wanted to, what would it be?”

Husband:  “ummm….” Silence.  More silence.  Still more silence.

Me:  “Oh good grief, just answer!  Surely you can think of something!”

Husband:  “ooookkkkk.  Uh, I guess I wish you could see yourself the way I see you.”

Me:  “So, you want more sex?”

Husband:  “Yeah, pretty much.”

Me:  “Duly noted.”


Me:  “So, if there was ONE thing that YOU had to change about me, because you were forced into it, not because you wanted to, what would it be?”

D2:  “Well, you don’t stay mad for long which is a good thing…(you know there is a but coming) but, I wish you wouldn’t blow your top so quickly.  It would be less intimidating if it was more of a slow burn so we might have time to formulate a response to your rapid fire indignation and fury.”

Me:  “Wow.  Are you sure you don’t need time think?  You rattled that off rather quickly.”

D2:  “You asked!”

Me:  “Yeah, but I didn’t think you’d have the answer right there at your fingertips…jeez.”

D2:  “OMG, mom.”

Me:  “No no…it’s all good.  Thank you for your honesty.  Is that what you’re wearing?”

D2:  sigh.

Me:  “Just asking…”


Me: “So, if there was ONE thing that YOU had to change about me, because you were forced into it, not because you wanted to, what would it be?” 

D1:  blank look

Me:  “You can’t get into trouble, this is research for a blog, so there’s no wrong answer.  In fact, the more truthful the better.”

D1:  “Umm…it’s kinda early for this.”

Me:  “I’m sure you can think of something.”

D1:  “Ummm…ok, can I have a minute?”

Me:  “Sure.”

D1:  “Can you not stare at me?  It’s making me nervous.”

Me:  “Ok, but hurry.  I’ve got deadlines.  I’ll go ask your sister.  I’m sure she has a speedy answer.”


D3:  blank look

D3:  still nothing

Me:  “Why don’t I give you a minute, but hurry because I’ve got this blog to write.”


D1:  “I’ve got something!”

Me:  “You don’t have to act so excited.”

D1:  “You know how we tell you we need something for school or whatever and you procrastinate until the last-minute or forget about it altogether, but then get mad if we procrastinate on something or forget to tell you?”

Me:  “I have no idea what you are talking about.”

D1:  “Mom!”

Me:  “Is that your final answer?”

D1:  sigh

Me:  sigh


D3:  “I’ve got it!  I wish you had more confidence!”

Me:  “Taken.  You’re dad already used that one.”

D3:  “Dang it!”

Me:  “‘Cause he wants more sex.”

D3:  “Ewww.”

Me:  “What? You asked!”

D3:  “No, I didn’t!”

Me:  “Oh, my bad.”


Me: “So, if there was ONE thing that YOU had to change about me, because you were forced into it, not because you wanted to, what would it be?” 

Man-child:  “Same.”

Me:  “Same what?”

Man-child:  “I’d keep you the same.”



D3:  “You’re temper!”

Me:  “Your sister took that one.”

D1:  “Oh, like YOU ever get in trouble.”

D2:  “Yeah, exactly.  When was the last time YOU got yelled at?”

D3:  “OMG!  This is too much pressure!”

Me:  “Well…they have a point.  You never get in trouble.”

D3:  “Ugh!  I don’t know.  I give up.”

Me:  sigh

D3:  “THAT!  That right there!”

Me:  (alarmed) “WHAT?”

D3:  “THE SIGH.  I HATE the SIGH.”

Me:  sigh

Ok, so I think we can all agree, they were NO help.  Upon further reflection, I managed to come up with TWO things.

1)  I’m competitive.  In the extreme.

Let me explain…

My daughter spends a TON of time at her boyfriend’s house, especially around meal time.  She will come home (eventually) to rave about whatever she had for dinner. I might be a tad sensitive about my lack of cooking prowess, so I’m all like “oh, do tell?”  She fails to detect any of the early warning signals of my displeasure and barrels onward.  Apparently, she fixes things like steak and scallops or lamb.  LAMB?  LAMB!!?!?!??!?  If I fixed any of these things, my daughter would turn up her nose and fix a PB&J sandwich, chewing each bite in open defiance.  If I had dared to serve lamb, I’d get tears and recriminations!  She is very attached to her childhood stuffed lamb, creatively named “Lamby”, to the point that NO ONE and I mean NO ONE is allowed to even touch Lamby.  But apparently, it’s ok to eat Lamby’s cousins.

This is her room, in a surprisingly clean state:


This is her chalkboard wall, where you will find all manner of lewd, disgusting words or phrases and crude visuals.  Don’t look too closely, you might burn your retinas.  Man-child is not allowed in the “Rated R” room.  On the ceiling, you can catch a glimpse of her best friend’s body outline, that she colored and taped above her bed.  ‘Cause that’s not weird at all.


And then you have…Lamby.

IMG_1107Perched upon a chair, out of harms way.

So, imagine my shock when I heard about her “Adventures in Eating”.  Now, you’ll catch me saying things like this:

“Oh, it’s only spaghetti for dinner.  I wish I had the money to serve steak.”

“Oh, it’s just fried shrimp.  From a box.  Nothing fancy like scallops served here.”

“We only eat cows and pigs.  I could never eat a poor defenseless lamb.”

One day, I asked her boyfriend if his mother knew about this one-sided competitive war I was waging between our two kitchens?  He laughed and said no, but then quickly assured me that he’s loved everything I’ve fixed.

He’s a keeper, this boy.

I have another example, if you aren’t yet convinced.

Man-child wrote a letter in school the other day to the person in his life he most admires.  Here is a window into our conversation:

Me:  “So, I heard you wrote a letter today to someone you admire?”

Man-child:  “Hmm.  Yeah.”

Me:  “Well!  Tell me, who did you write about?”  wink wink…we all know it was about me, I mean who else could it possibly…

Man-child:  “Dad.”

Wait, what?  HAHAHAHAHA  I thought he just said dad!

Me:  “You wrote a letter to me?”

Man-child:  “Huh? No, didn’t you hear me. DAD.”

Me:  “why?”  If you read that in your head in a super whiny tone, then you did it right.

Man-child:  “Because he takes me to drum lessons and…”

Me:  “Wait a minute.  Who do you think scoured the metroplex to find those drum lessons?”

Man-child:  “I don’t know what soured means.”

Me:  “Scoured.  It means I worked hard to find you the perfect drum lessons with the perfect teacher.” 

Man-child:  “ok but still he drives me and he bought me Skylander’s Giants for  my birthday…”

Me:  “WHOA! Wait a hot minute!  The only person more surprised to find what’s underneath that wrapping paper than you is your dad!  I DO all the shopping.  I’m the one that calls and writes Santa so he brings you the perfect gift.  I plead with the tooth fairy to leave you BIG money.  I’m the one the Easter Bunny talks to before putting together your basket!  MOMMY PICKS OUT YOUR PRESENTS!  And I’m your room mom, I go on all your field trips!  Those jeans you are wearing, you like those jeans right?”

Man-child:  “Yeah…”

Me:  “Well I BOUGHT THEM!”


Me:  “So, if you had to write a letter tomorrow to the person you most admire, who would it be?”

Man-child:  “We don’t have to write the letter, we already did.”

Me:  “I know, but if you had to write another one?”

Man-child:  “But we don’t.”


Man-child: giggles

Me:  “Can I ask you something?”

Man-child:  hesitates.  “Yeah”

Me:  “Who do you most admire?”

Man-child:  “Daddy.”  giggles

Me:  “Well, DADDY can fix your dinner then.” sulks off to nurse wounds and mend broken heart

So you see…EVERYTHING is a competition, and I’m shameless in the pursuit of victory.

I suppose the second quirk I would change would be this:

2) I’m a hoarder-slob.


What?  No one actually uses this bathtub, so I don’t see why it can’t be my substitute closet!  I really LOATHE hanging up my clothes.  I don’t even have the “no lightbulb in the closet” excuse, because hubs replaced the bulb after I threw down the challenge a few blogs ago.  I still haven’t cleaned the closet, but I’ll spare you another photo.

I’ve been known to keep as many as six of my never finished “Diet Pepsi Soldiers” lined across my dresser.


Sometimes I hide my shame between the jewelry box and the wall so hubs can’t see it…


I don’t remember the last time I drank water…unless it coincided with the last time I was at the gym…so, it’s been a while.

The corner of my bedroom between my bed, dresser and a window, I kept all manner of important items/documents that I might need at a moment’s notice.  I’ll admit it started to kinda take over the room, but then my sweet husband bought me a container to put it all in until I found the time to sort through it.  Isn’t he just the sweetest!


I should probably dust that fan…in case you wondering how long it’s been there…

Want to peek inside?


I’m not sure why I’m saving that skittles bag.  It’s empty.  I checked.  Now I’m craving skittles.

So there you have it people!  Some of my adorable little quirks that might not be so quirky.

I know you were thinking I’d probably say something about Adam Levine, but even my judgy self approves of that particular quirk, so he stays!  Yay!

Now, if you haven’t fallen asleep…read on!  It just keeps getting better 🙂

Guess What Time It Is?

First of all, let me apologize for being so long between posts!  January is a crazy busy time for me at work, so I’ve had to put the things I truly love on the back-burner for a bit, but now I’m back! 

Okay, I just lied.  What really happened is that I sprained my wrist writing back to all my amazing fans.  Who knew that thanking people for their love, admiration and adoration could be so life-threatening!  Not that spraining your wrist is life threatening, except that when I flinched from the pain I got a paper cut and everyone knows that paper cuts can lead to death.  I saw a tv special on it once, so it must be true. 

It’s true.  I’ve decided it’s time to once again share with you some words of encouragement from some of my most loyal fans.  I’m all afraid to use pictures I find on google now, because of copyright crap, so I made my very own graphic…


I think it’s pretty obvious how talented I am, and why I win at Pictionary.  Every. Damn. Time. (and by every time I mean never) 

So, guess what time it is people?!?!?!?


Woo Hoo!

Letter #1:

Dear My Brain On Kids,

Great Article.


Anus Itch


Dear Anus Itch,

Thank you so much for your kind words!  It’s comments like yours that really keep me motivated especially during the tough times.  There are moments when I just want to throw in the towel, because being so fantastically awesome is exhausting, but then I get a letter like yours and WHAM!  Just like that, I’m back in action!  Also, you should probably get that itching problem looked at.  Undiagnosed Anal Itching is the leading cause of skid marks and not to be treated lightly.  Proceed with caution and try Gold Bond Medicated Powder.


My Brain On Kids

Letter #2:

Dear My Brain On Kids,

Thanks for sharing this information….it is my great pleasure to visit your website i found by music search and to enjoy your excellent post here. god bless you!!!

Much Love,

List De Email


Dear List De Email,

Why God bless you too!  I am so humbled to learn that I can be found on music searches!  Is there no end to my fame?  My name is really out there, and it’s just such a good feeling.  Like all my hard work and dedication and coke habit were so worth it, ya know?  Just kidding about the coke habit, I’m a Diet Pepsi girl all the way.  I feel like my true purpose in this life is to share valuable information about myself with other people.  I mean why should I bask alone in my greatness?  It means far less if I can’t share it with those who love me faithfully. 

Just a little tip for you, you should please give me time to respond to your kind words before sending letter after letter after letter after letter.  So much love from one place is just overwhelming.  I hope you understand 🙂


My Brain On Kids  


Letter #3:

Dear My Brain On Kids,

I was looking around your site and noticed broken links. You might want to change it.

Yours Truly,

Designer Knockoff Handbag Merchants


Dear Designer Knockoff Handbag Merchants,

Constructive criticism is truly foundational in my line of work.  I just wanted to take a minute (actually several hours because I sprained my wrist rabidly searching my blog for broken links) and say THANK YOU so much for taking the time out of your busy, busy day to help me out.  I could just cry tears of gratitude!  Or the tears are from the pain I’m experiencing trying to write this heartfelt note to what is very clearly my most devoted follower.  You are the best!  YOU are the reason I strive for perfection!  Keep up the good work!


My Brain On Kids


Letter #4:

Dear My Brain On Kids,

Fuck you all Forex bustards.

Haters Unite,

Forex Peace Army


Dear Forex Peace Army,

The juxtaposition of the word “Peace” in your name with the words in your comments “Fuck” and “Haters” is truly an art form.  You clearly have exquisite taste.  I mean, that certainly explains why you love me!  Thank you for so staunchly defending me against these “forex bustards” (I’m assuming bustards is like bastards but worse, so much worse).  Obviously, I understand that with fame and fortune comes the haters and the liars, but it never gets easier.  I proudly carry this cross as long as I have fans like you watching my back!  I’ll sleep better tonight, believe you me!


My Brain On Kids

p.s.  Juxtaposition was my WOTD (word of the day)!  I’m pretty sure I used it correctly but I’m not sure any bustards will know the difference!  I’d pat myself on the back…but sprained wrist.


I wish I had time to answer more of your lovingly constructed letters, but it’s time to pop some more pain pills and catch up on Downton Abbey.  It seems appropriate to share this picture that someone shared on my Facebook page. 


Take a break from enjoying me!  I know it’s hard, but I must insist my amazingly awesome fans take care of themselves or who will I have to love me and tell me how great I am?  So really, what you do for you, you do for me 🙂

HUGS and KISSES to you ALL!

Queen Of The Flies


Have you ever thought about what people might think if they saw what goes on behind-the-scenes at your house?  Do you ever wonder what it would be like to catch a glimpse of someone else’s daily life?  Well, Baking In A Tornado wondered what it would be like and it inspired her to create a collaborative blog posting idea!   

Today, 14 bloggers are inviting you into their homes to be a fly on the wall (links at the bottom).

Enter at your own risk… 


Man-child’s teacher pulled my husband aside after school and brought up an “incident” that happened earlier in the day.  Apparently, when asking the children what they wanted to be when they grow up, the only thing my son could think of was “a villain.”  He followed that comment up with drawing a picture of a battle scene.  I hear this and think 7-year-old little boy.  Teacher’s hear this and think “future gunman.”  I could depart here on a major rant, but I will refrain and just tell you that we did talk to man-child in our attempt to glean a deeper understanding of his meaning and purpose, because EVERYONE knows that ALL kids grow up to be astronauts, fireman or pro-athletes; therefore, it is only logical that we dissuade man-child of any future villainess prospects. 

Me:  “I heard you talked about what you want to be when you grow up in school today?”

Man-child:  “Yeah.”  If you detect any enthusiasm in this response at all then I wrote it wrong.

Me:  “So, tell me!  What do you want to be?”

Man-child:  *sigh* “Dad already talked to me.”

Me:  “I know, but I want to talk about it.”

Man-child:  “I said I wanted to be a villain or a bad guy.”

Me:  “Why?”

Man-child:  “Because they wear cool clothes and fight and stuff.”

Me:  “Yeah, you are right, bad guys do have nice outfits.”

Man-child:  “Bad guys don’t wear “outfits” mom.  Only girls wear outfits.”

Me:  “Oh sorry, my bad.  You do understand though that Darth Vader, Batman, Spiderman are just fictional and fantasy characters.  They aren’t real.”

Man-child gives me a “duh” look and proceeds to give me the definitions for fiction versus non-fiction and fantasy versus reality.  I marvel silently at how smart I think he is, but then quickly refocus to the task at hand…averting future villainess deeds of mayhem.

Me:  “Do you understand that in real life bad guys hurt people, so when you tell someone you want to be a bad guy, even if you are just pretending, it sounds like maybe you think it’s fun to hurt people.  In real life, bad guys go to jail and a prison uniform isn’t such a cool costume.”

Man-child:  “Well…what I really meant to say was that I wanted to be a dentist, but I couldn’t think of it.”

(which I still think sounds like he wants to hurt people, but I hate the dentist, so I’m probably not being objective here)

Me:  “Oh, I see.  Well, a dentist.  That’s interesting.”

Man-child:  “I guess.  I know that you should treat others how  you want to be treated.  Be kind is another rule.  And don’t be a bully!  Be nice to everyone even if they are different from you.  I know lots of rules mommy.”

Me:  “I know you do sweetie.”

Man-child:  “Can I have a snack now?”

We talked a bit more later about the subject, but the bottom line is that my son has a very vivid imagination and he loves to be dramatic and playact.  He is also affectionate, loving and giving.  He cares about others, and he never displays his anger in violent outbursts.  He sulks and pouts, he puts himself in timeout, he might even cry and yell about how mean we are, but he’s quick with hugs, sorries and forgiveness.  We talked about the appropriate times to pretend and play, and how what we say and do reflect who people think we are and how they see us.  I don’t want him to grow up too soon, can’t he just be a little boy for a little while longer… 


I walked into the bathroom while man-child was taking a shower.  I wasn’t trying to sneak up on him or be quiet.  I put my face up against the glass, and said “hi!”.  Man-child screamed and inadvertently pissed himself (at least he was in the shower).  He continued to kind of holler and scream, his brain clearly not connecting that it was only me standing there.  I kept trying to calm him down, but in his defense I probably looked a little maniacal standing at the glass with tears of laughter streaming down my face causing my mascara to run.  I felt so bad.  Poor baby. 

Man-child:  “You scared me!”

Me:  “I know, I’m so sorry!” (I’m still laughing hysterically, bending over trying to catch my breath, so this probably came out like more a wheeze than an actual sentence)

Man-child:  “I went pee.”

Me:  (laughing even harder) “I know!”

Man-child:  “How embarrassing!!!”

Me:  “I’m so sorry, I’ll leave.  But hurry up,  you’ve been in there awhile.”

Man-child:  “OK!”


Man-child:  “Mom?”

Me:  “Yes?”

Man-child:  “I miss Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.”

Me:  “Oh?  Tell me more about this?”

Man-child:  “I mean, he was just trying to do good things and bring peace and then he was assassinated!”

Me:  (did he just say assassinated?)  “I know.  Assassinated?  That’s a big word, do you know what it means?”

Man-child:  (looks at me like I’m a few bricks shy of a load) “He was shot by James Earl Ray!”

Me:  “That’s right!  James Earl Ray was a bad guy.”  (I look at man-child pointedly)

Man-child:  *sigh*  “I know, I know!  I learned my lesson mom.” 

Me:  “ok, good!”

Man-child:  “Anyway, his birthday and my birthday are the same day!  And we don’t have school, so I’ll have to bring my cupcakes the next day, but isn’t that cool?!?!”

Me:  “Very cool sweetheart.”


Man-child:  “Mom, who do you like better Obama or Romney?”

Me:  “Well…I’d have to say _____ .” (as if I’m going to answer that here!)

Man-child:  “In Texas, everyone likes Romney but in the United States people like Obama because he won so now he lives in the White House.  Is the White House in the United States?”

Me:  “Yes, the White House is in Washington D.C. which is part of the United States.”

Man-child:  “10-2 = 8.”

Me:  “Is today random fact day?”

Man-child:  “huh?”

Me:  “Nevermind.”


As I stepped out of the shower the other day, I looked down and noticed several slices of cheese sitting on the counter.

  1. I am home alone
  2. I did not slice myself some cheese

I immediately succumb to panic and crisis mode as I stand dripping on the cold tile floor scanning the bathroom, thinking of my options.  I race to the bathroom junk drawer, yank it open, and begin frantically searching for anything I can use as a weapon while my ears strain to pick up the sounds of my murderer.  EVERYONE knows that if you are going to be murdered it will be while you are home alone and in the shower.  Plus, I did hear the dogs barking earlier.  OMG they are probably dead!  I briefly entertain the idea of opening the 2nd floor bathroom window and jumping out, because what are a few broken bones, scrapes and public nudity when death is on the line.  My heart is racing.  I can literally hear the blood pumping through my veins.  As I’m scouring the drawer looking for anything, ANYTHING, I can use, there are several things that become immediately clear to me.

I am not wearing my glasses.  I won’t be able to find a weapon because I am blind without glasses or contacts.  Even if I do somehow manage to locate a weapon, I won’t be able to see my attacker until he is upon me with his murderous rage.

*puts on glasses*

The “slices of cheese” are actually cheez-its that I placed on the counter before I got into the shower.

In case you have any doubts, let me set the record straight.  I will be the crazy old lady in the retirement home, suffering from dementia and paranoia, that tries to kill people with splenda packets and hoards crackers.

I would be the first person to die in a horror movie.

I am the last person anyone should count on in a crisis.

Murderers probably don’t “rat trap” their victims.

I have issues.  Serious issues.


My husband and I are in a standoff.

NO this isn’t about Adam Levine.  For once.

It’s about my side of the closet.

Weeks and weeks ago the lightbulb on my side of the closet went out.  I asked him to change it for me.  Several times I have asked.  He continues to ignore my demand request.  Could I change the light myself?  Of course.  That’s hardly the point.  I asked him to do it, he said he would and then he didn’t.  I feel like to change it now would be admitting defeat.  I’m not blinking first! 

Me:  “Remember when I asked you to change the bulb in my closet?  I say remember because it was a VERY LOOOOOONG time ago.  You might have forgotten it was soooooo LONG ago.”

Hubs:  “No, I remember.  I’m afraid to open the door, it’s scary in there.  Perhaps if you cleaned it out…”

Me:  “I’d clean it out, but I can’t see….because no light.  I’d probably hurt myself.  Wrench an ankle, throw my back out trying to navigate the dark and murky terrain without assistance because apparently my husband doesn’t care if I die in the closet and no one ever finds me.”

Hubs:  “You’re so ridiculous.”

The lightbulb still hasn’t been changed.


The closet still hasn’t been cleaned.

I can live with no light longer than hubs can live with the mess.  I will WIN.

Honey, if you are reading this, I have a message for you from “The Mess in My Closet”:

“I will breed and multiply.  I will take continue to grow until eventually I take over the OCD orderliness of your side of the closet.  Only light could stop me now!  Mwhahahahahahaha!”

(I think we all know who wins this round)