The Haircut

I wanted a shoulder-length flirty type of haircut.


A haircut with bounce and life – to either look like that cute middle-aged blonde on Modern Family, or super flippy-flirty like Alice in the vampire movies.


And I think my stylist actual nailed the haircut. I love my  hair right now – it feels healthy, it’s a great length, and is easy to style.


But you know what…once you reach a certain age you look like a man no matter what you do. This is a truth I’m telling you right here sisters…so lean in….once you turn about 42 – your “man-genes” come out. Too much make-up=MAN. Too little make-up=MAN. Hair down=MAN. Hair up=MAN with a man bun.


So unfortunately, no matter how much I like my hair right now, when I look in the mirror and expect to see some cute 27 year old, instead I see Snape.


Every morning I wave hello to Snape in the mirror. My husband wakes up with Snape. My kids have Snape as their mother.


I’ve turned into Snape. I’m worried that by the time I’m 70 I will turn into Sean Connery. At 90 – George Burns?


Okay “older” ladies – who is your man-doppelganger?



Cats In Costume

It’s Friday and only the 6th day of November with 24 days to go, and NaBloMeAgain is already giving me all of the guilt and crazy feelings, and empty head, and doubts. I just cannot imagine what November 26th will bring. Probably a one word post like…












ALLTHECATS!!!(Totally is like ONE word!)


I’m already getting so desperate for content that I am considering doing several recipe posts. With pumpkin. Allthefuckingpumpkin.


Come read me next week for my Cooking With Cats series! Not that cats will be the ingredients….they will be the stirrers. But damn, no thumbs…


See, what can I write about? How I sold clothing? How I wore clothing? How I vacuumed. OMG I CAN talk about how I vacuumed because I just got a new vacuum and I love it! I must be almost 50, because I love my vacuum and tell everyone about it. I love vacuums, cats, and pumpkin recipes. My god. I might even take up knitting!


This will not end well.


I started this post with the simple intention to say “It’s Friday and I am DONE with this – so here are pictures of my cats in Halloween costumes.!”


In case you missed their pictures on Instagram – you’re welcome.

cat-halloween costumes

And Crabby Gabby is famous as she was featured on EOnline last week.


“How much do I hate you, let me count the ways…one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight…..”


Have a great weekend.


Oh wait – I have to do this again tomorrow….



Midlife Band Names

We were discussing band names the other day. The girls were asking how some bands came up with their unique names. Like where did the name Imagine Dragons come from? The Beatles? The Bangles? The Stones?


I asked them what they would name their bands. Every answer had something to do with dance or cats. Mainly cats. So I thought I would make a list of band names that would fit my life right now.


The Hairy Armpits

The Stray Chin Hairs

The Gray Roots

The Minivans

Goldfish Under The Chair

8 Loads Of Laundry

Mismatched Socks

Yesterdays Mascara

Yoga Pants Forever

Breakfast For Dinner Again

The Cat Ladies

Fingerprints On Glass

Don’t Lick The Outlets

The Instagrammers

The Dishwasher Unloaders

The Vacuumers

The Feet Of The Crows

The Missing Glove Finders

Carpool Drivers

Netflix Bingers

Boo Boo Kissers

The Sensible Shoes


What would you name your band?




I Won’t Grow Up

I’m sitting in a chair in our bedroom. I’m hiding because it’s quiet here. Downstairs I hear more kids than are mine watching a movie and fixing snacks and still in their pajamas at nearly noon. I sit directly across from our newish bed. It’s an actual bed – with a headboard and a base for the mattress, and it’s the first bed we’ve owned together. We’ve slept on an old mattress from college – at times on the floor and at times on a $30 metal base – for our whole “been-together” life. Our dressers have been cardboard boxes or tubs or closet shelves or piles on the floor. We don’t own bedside tables or matching lamps or a fancy duvet cover with fancy pillows. But we bought a bed this year. Well actually, we didn’t buy the bed, Jed’s parents bought us the bed as a housewarming gift/maybe belated wedding gift for the wedding/reception that we never had. It’s ironic really that our parents bought our bed for us.


My parents have always had a full bedroom suite. My grandparents too. A sturdy headboard with shelves, a low and long dresser for her – with a mirror and shelves lined with flowery smelling powders and perfumes, and a tall dresser for him – top drawer meant for ties and cufflinks. I knew my grandparents and parents were “real” grown-ups because they owned a full bedroom suite. Also because their bedspreads even matched the curtains.


I’ve never owned curtains.


I believe our kids think we are frauds because of the lack of bedroom furniture. And we certainly don’t feel like grown-ups. (Also I just got my nose pierced last year and Jed has a man-bun….but I digress…) So I’m wondering if owning a real bed at 46 years old will somehow give us the credentials we need to feel like adults. I mean it certainly makes me sleep better and want to head to bed by 8:30 just like my grandparents did – so maybe that’s the secret. But it certainly doesn’t help us make some of the tough decisions that we have to make for our family


We’re deciding this week if our kids should change schools – which is major and hard and confusing and new and CHANGE and it’s not all up to the kids(because they would stay..because friends), but I hate being the one to insist and decide. I don’t want to be the one with the bedroom set. I want to camp out on a old mattress and go to bed late and worry about things tomorrow or not at all.


I look back at the decisions we had to make when our girls were little – how small those decisions seem now in the scope of a long life. Those decisions were basic ones of just keeping a child alive, healthy and happy. Now we focus so much more on the emotional, social, mental, fulfilling needs of the whole person…and they can make their own snacks. This stage is much harder to parent.


There’s not a bedroom set nice enough to make me feel adult enough to help make some of the decisions that will need to be made over the next few years.


So I’ll just sit in denial in the chair in the corner of my room and online shop for a matching duvet cover and curtains. Nice curtains will certainly make being an adult easier.


Next up – watching Wheel of Fortune at 5:30pm, right after dinner. Then we will be ready to make all of the hard  parenting decisions.



Will I Do Yoga Again

I’m a self-proclaimed yoga hater. Okay, maybe hater is a bit harsh, so let’s just say that yoga is no longer my jam. I mean I don’t hate you for doing and loving yoga, as many of my dearest friends are instructors and extraordinary women who live and die by the yoga sword. In fact 13 years ago I started towards my yoga instructor certification and took a trip to India which inspired me to continue with my training. I was one of them – the yoga people. I practiced yoga in a studio at least four times per week, a few times per week at home, and I even…wait for it…meditated. Hell I was mindful before mindful was in. Now when I hear the word mindful I want to shove some kale up someone’s ass and ask them if they are experiencing mindfulness right at that moment. In fact my rage is surfacing as I type that word on my page. Like it’s the biggest judging word of our generation. Like if you aren’t being mindful, than you’re just an asshole. I want to invent a new nomenclature for those of us who feel we are mindful without having to tell everyone that we are being mindful. Because it’s not like we are the mindful-less. We are just so damn zen that we don’t have to even explain how fucking okay we are. And that we can enjoy eating a carrot just because we like carrots and  do not need to think about how we are mindfully eating the damn carrot. Like if I eat it while standing at my kitchen counter I am enjoying it less than I would be sitting lotus in my living room eating the same damn carrot. Bugs Bunny doesn’t give a crap about this. Bug Bunny ate carrots while standing up, was never mindful, and he has lived a very long life.


Maybe if I had continued doing yoga – my zen-ness would be more enlightened and lighter if you will.  Maybe I wouldn’t have rage. Maybe I would eat more carrots. Maybe I could shove my legs into lotus. Maybe I would eat allthecarrots. Maybe I wouldn’t be thinking about shoving kale up your mindful ass.


I still remember walking out of my last yoga class in Holland. I was eight months pregnant, moving home to the US, and moving onto a new life as a mother. In the three years that followed I tried a few local yoga classes, but nothing stuck. I felt awkward and self-conscious at each place and nothing felt like home to me. Yet I assume yoga must still be part of my soul because I think about it nearly every single day. I visit websites and look at schedules, touch mats as I pass them by in a store, and watch with envy as people exit a yoga class. I listen to friends tell me about the latest classes they are taking. I stalk people on Facebook as they become instructors. And I follow way too many people on instagram who do yoga. Unless they start using the word “mindful.” I unfollow those mindful people quickly and feel more zen than a good yoga sculpt class could ever make me feel.


I know I’m feeling the draw towards yoga again because I have this new thing called “time” on my hands now that all of the little children are at school all day. And sure, I could fill it with more work, or more volunteering at school, or more binge watching on Netflix. But yoga(non-mindful) yoga is calling my name. But I stress – will I buy the wrong mat, will I buy the wrong clothes, will my body not bend and hold like it used to, will people make fun of my wrinkly knees, will I pass gas. Maybe more than once? Because a mother can and will make everything stressful – including the thought of starting yoga again. Sometimes I have this vision of me entering my first class in so many years and being all like “Okay, Motherfuckers, let’s get mindful and shit!” And then the uptight mindful ones hate me forever, but my true blue new friends give me high-fives and martinis after class. But I know myself, and I know I’ll be the one hiding in the back of the class just hoping that I don’t pass gas and pausing with envy at the people with the nice mats and better clothes.


If I ever actually make it to a yoga class. Because right now I’m just checking online schedules while I eat chocolate and watch season six of the Gilmore Girls.


We shall see what 2015 brings.


I will report back. But I’m telling you right now that I am walking out the first time that someone says “mindful.” I’d like instead to make that into a drinking game. I would have to stay off the internet though as I’d always be too drunk to leave my house. Good excuse to skip yoga I guess.



Time Flies

It’s been a busy Fall. Even Astrid is feeling overwhelmed with too much to do and too little time. And I think that starting kindergarten has made her realize that we have to prioritize things. In the lazy days of preschool we had lots of downtime and fun time. Now our lives are scheduled. If we aren’t heading to an activity, we are running errands, or making lists. Sometimes she will whisper to me “I just miss snuggling with nothing to do.” And then all of a sudden it’s bedtime and we didn’t do anything meaningful just for us.


I hate that she’s thinking about how we seem to have so little time to just “be” lately. Five year olds shouldn’t worry so. But this too shall pass I keep saying. Will the busy end? Or is this just the tip of the iceberg that is bringing us down into a spiral of busy with three kids getting older?


“Mommy..” Astrid says to me from the back of the van. “Time just passes so quickly these days.”


Oh honey, just wait until you are old like me. Time passes so fast you just cannot believe the ticking by of days and weeks and years. Enjoy your time now when time goes more slowly.


“It doesn’t seem slowly though, Mommy. Like the yesterday before yesterday seems like years ago already. And the tomorrow after tomorrow will be here too soonly.” She says with a hint of concern and worry that should not exist at her age.


Oh Love, don’t worry about the tomorrow after tomorrow. Just enjoy today.


“I just want it all to go more slower. But it’s just so fast these days.” She almost whispers this as she glances out the window.


I know. It’s too fast.


“I bet when you’re dead though time moves like so so so so slowly. So I don’t want time to be that slow. Like dead slow. I want alive slow. Not dead slow. Do you know what dead time slow would be like. Like it would be today forever. Today forever would be worse than the tomorrow after tomorrow after tomorrow after tomorrow coming today before I’d even get to enjoy today. Whew. Time is so weird. Now my head hurts. I suppose that’s going to make my day just go so fast too.”



The Republican Next Door

We almost didn’t buy our new house. I mean the house is amazing. It has the room we need. The lot we want. An amazing kitchen. A playhouse in the back. FOUR bathrooms. A garden for Esther. A great garage for Jed. A huge private bedroom for Eloise. A playroom for Astrid. An office for me. Everything. Like we could not ask for more. But as we were walking back to our minivan, we surveyed the neighborhood.


The next door neighbor had several political signs in his yard. And they were signs that were not …let’s just say…not for “my” candidate.

She Voted For Al Franken

She Voted For Al Franken


“I can’t live here, Jed.” I said. “As there’s a Republican(said in a whisper…like cancer) next door. This is a deal breaker I’m afraid.”


I’m sorry, what?


“They are Republicans – they have signs. This concerns me. Like how will we manage neighborhood parties and small talk?  I’m worried?” I said.


Um, with taco dip and talk of the weather?


“But I think I need to go knock and ask if they lean Tea Party or Moderate? Because Tea Party will be a no-go for me. Moderate I can debate with.” I started towards their house.


They’re going to know you are crazy. Do you want them to know that you are crazy and a liberal?


“Yes, yes I do. I think it’s good to just get it all out there.” I said a little louder as I started sweating as I thought about what it would be like living next to a Republican. “I mean I knew they existed outside of the city, but I’m not sure if I want to live by one. Let’s drive around and look for neighbors with DFL signs.”


You are crazy. Remind me to never look for a house again during election season.


“I just need a few days to think about what this will mean. You know, if we lived next to a Republican.” I started towards our car, now needing to sit down as I was feeling faint.


You know the last person you had sex with is a Republican?


“You have no proof of that.” I joked.  “And, you’re just confused. I think of sleeping with you more as therapy for you to learn that you are truly a liberal just waiting to get out.”


You’d think that after 16 years you’d just accept that you like sleeping with a Republican.


“Well you can take the girl out of Indiana, but you can’t take Indiana out of the girl.”


You are crazy.


“I know – and just wait until 2016 – do you have any idea how big my Hillary sign is going to be in the front yard of our new house? Our new neighbors are going to LOVE US! I’ll invite them over for taco dip and hand out DFL bumper stickers for Halloween!”



Five Random Facts About Me

Vikki insisted that I go all old school blogging and share 5 random facts about myself. At my age it’s honestly getting hard to remember random and interesting things. And after 7 years of blogging you all pretty much know everything there is to know about me. Basically I like wine, coffee, cats and cute clothing. I’m an open book that way. An open book who owns more than one lint brush.


But I thought of a few more random things that maybe you don’t know – and between these random facts I could either insert cat pictures or fashion pictures. I’ve decided to use fashion pictures because Fall is finally here and it’s my favorite season(you already knew that), and Aventura Clothing sent me a few things to wear that I have to share with you because I’m in love.


So here you go – randomness and fashion. Maybe tomorrow will be cats.


1. I’ve broken six bones. I broke my collar bone when I was eight years old by falling off the top bunk while sleeping. I believe this is why bunk bed guard rails were made mandatory just a few years later. Oh the chances we took in 1976 just to get a good night sleep. The other five bones I broke were my ribs when I was tackled while playing touch football after foolishly deciding to join a work league to meet guys. It WORKS! I met doctors in the ER. It hurt to breathe for like the next four months and my football career ended that day, but the evening in the ER was fantastic.

aventura-clothing-sweater (You need the Valencia sweater and scarf from Aventura. Jeggings are American Eagle. Yes, I am still in love with my hi-rise jeggings)


2. I dog-ear my books to mark the page when I’m reading them. I always have. Some people(my oldest daughter) get super upset about dog-earers – thinking that we are damaging books. I think it just increases the character. I do admit that I feel a bit guilty when I borrow a book and dog-ear without permission. I apologize for that. But if I can’t dog-ear that dang book it just never feels like I can truly get into it. This is probably why I don’t read library books. Dog-ear guilt. It’s real.

aventura-clothing-leggings (The Aventura Lily leggings are a go-to item this Fall. Paired with a tunic from Target, sweater from Lucy, and the Chevron scarf from Aventura)

3. I hate painted fingernails and have never quite understood this look. My kids are not obsessed with polish or manicures, but I’d paint their nails every day if they wanted it…but they rarely ask thank goodness.  But don’t touch my nails. And don’t even get me started on my toenails. And let’s just say that being a runner…no one wants to paint my toenails. Or touch them. Or have me remove my shoes. Jed wishes I would always wear socks to bed.

aventura-vest(Perfect for the apple orchard – the jeggings from American Eagle, very old sweater from The Gap, my favorite Frye Veronica Shortie boots, and YOU NEED this Owen Vest from Aventura, and Alisha Infinity scarf from Aventura)

4. When I was in second grade, my best friend was run over by the Avon Lady. I still remember yelling “MOM – come quick, Linda just got run over by the Avon Lady!” You would think that Linda just earned free make-up for life. But this happened in 1974 so she just brushed herself off, headed to the ER and her parents probably didn’t even get the Avon Lady’s name to sue her for lipstick or cologne encased in a porcelain sports car.


(I am in love with these Morgan corduroys from Aventura. Sweater is from Cabi)

5. I never lived in a dorm. I attended night school for my first two years of college as it was the only way I could afford to attend school – so I lived with family and then in a cheap apartment, and didn’t start regular day classes until my junior year. So this meant I never really met anyone at college either as my night school classmates were like super old(30!). I also did not attend my college graduation as I had already moved across the country for a job in LA once my last class was finished. But I guess since I did not really even know the name of one person I went to college with – my party would’ve been pretty lame if I had stayed for graduation.


So there you have it – I am deeper than just clothing and cats. Also, I really don’t like Avon products still to this day because of poor Linda. Now it’s time for you to share five facts about you on your blog and get all old school blogging with us – or leave a comment with a super random fact about yourself!! And check-out Aventura for some amazing Fall fashions!


Linking up with The Pleated Poppy for WIWW.


Day Before The Marathon Prep – Pre and Post Motherhood

Day before the Twin Cities Marathon – my prep in the year 2000 before I became a mom:

-Hang out for hours at the expo. Chat with adults without anyone yelling “Mom, mom, mom, mom, MOM!”

-Sample the goodies at the expo instead of feeding them to my children


-Hang out with fellow running friends and talk about running. No one interrupts us. We eat lunch at a place without a kids menu


-Take a nice slow run at anytime of the day that I WANT

-Relax. Chill-out.

-Lay out clothing for the race and have the ability to start and finish this task like all the way without interruption

-Watch a movie


-Fun carbo-loading dinner with friends that includes a bit of beer and lots of laughter. At a place without a kids menu

-Go to bed when I’m tired and at anytime that I want to just knowing that I won’t be woken up all night



Day before the Twin Cities Marathon – my prep in the year 2014 as a mom of three:

-Run at the butt-cracking-ass-of-before-dawn because I need to get home before anyone else wakes up

-Start the first of five loads of laundry

-Make everyone breakfast. Try to eat some scraps that they leave.

-Take one child to theater class

-Take another child to dance class

-Start laying out marathon outfit

-Crap – Run to expo and grab packet. No time to browse or chat. In/out in 5 minutes.

-Run to grocery store to buy something for dinner

-Pick up child from theater

-Pick up child from dance

-Bring next child to dance

-Continue trying to lay out marathon outfit

-Break-up sisterly fight

-Stop by CVS to get poster board for family tree project from theater class child

-Pick-up child from dance

-Start cooking dinner

-Work on laundry

-Work on family tree school project with child

-Remind another child that they should work on their homework

-Yell at another child to get off the iPad

-Feed family a dinner that everyone hates

-Barely eat because I don’t really like it either

-More laundry



-Watch bad shows with kids on The Disney Channel

-Go to bed way too late because I am still up folding laundry and doing family tree research

-Finish marathon outfit planning in my head

-Can’t fall asleep because of all the family to-do lists

-Wonder if anyone else makes “family to-do lists” in their heads while running a marathon

-Wonder if you’ll be woken up during the night

-Fall asleep grateful for all of the beautiful family distractions




Like A Bad Line From Frozen

My hair – graying and thinning and splitting at the ends – gave me away last week. Well I thought it gave my age away – but instead my four year old helped me once again look on the brighter side and gave me pause like a bad line from the movie Frozen. “Mama, did Elsa freeze you?” And while that was a lovely thought – gray streaks caused by a princess – I had to instead tell her the truth that most of my gray can probably be directly attributed to her and her sisters. And sure, maybe my age.


So I tweeted our little conversation. And like anything Frozen related – people loved it. NickMom and HuffPo even included me in their funniest parental tweets last week.


Which sure – fame and no fortune is fabulous – but what our little discussion did do was make me finally call my stylist and get an appointment THAT DAY! So now I’m no longer streaked with magic. Which is a win for this lady but a lose for the Astrid who now thinks that I’ve never met Elsa.


Things that also happened last week – The Listen To Your Mother 2014 videos are NOW LIVE! Yes, you too can stay up four nights in a row living the magic from the LTYM stories. You will laugh and cry and nod and share.  And maybe also eat a Ho-Ho or two if you watch mine. (Wow I look so angry in the still frame…).

I also did a podcast for The Blogging Betties last week. I talked about blogging for a long time, how to recharge your writing, training for marathons, producing a LTYM show, and waved ‘hi’ to my stalker – who still reads me. “Hi hon!” I love what the Blogging Betties do – sharing tips, tricks and advice on how to manage a blog and social media. They are a kick-ass group of professional bloggers.


Also – my post – 12 signs you are in menopause struck a chord with many people. Many hot and bitchy people – my tribe. I love you. It was picked up my HuffPost 50 – which once you are on the HuffPost 50 site – well you are pretty much in menopause.


I’ll be offline much of the week as I’m visiting my parents and attending a work conference. I hope you are enjoying your summer.


And with that – I leave you with cat pictures.




How To Mow The Lawn

Now you’d think at my age that knowing how to mow the lawn would not be a mystery. And at one time I was quite an expert. As someone who did not marry and settle down to have children until nearly my mid-30’s I had many adult years as a single woman and a homeowner – who also happened to own a lawn mower. And I did this thing called mowing the lawn at least weekly. Unless it was January. I never mowed in January in Minnesota.


But then I got married and had babies and I somehow forgot we owned a lawn mower. Well actually I married a pretty traditional guy and me being such a traditional and conservative person..ahem…decided that he could be in charge of everything outside of the house. This left everything inside of the house in my charge. However, I hate cooking, dusting, and doing laundry…and Jed hates mowing the lawn. Twelve years later we have a lot of take-out and very tall grass at times. Somehow there’s a metaphor for our marriage in all of this. Maybe Ozzie and Harriet aren’t our best role models.


Anyway, last weekend I decided to mow the grass because we started losing some neighborhood dogs in our yard as Jed was working from dawn to dusk several days in a row – and nothing says ‘asshole neighbor’ like starting up the lawn mower at 5am. So I texted Jed –

Me: I’m going to mow. How do I start the mower again?

Jed: Turn the fuel switch on. Push the choke down. Hold in the clutch. Pull.


Jed: Hello?


Jed: Did you get that? If you didn’t – just leave it and I can mow on Sunday.

Me: Yep – got it. No worries. I got this.


Well I really didn’t ‘have this’ at all. But I did figure it out in just a few easy steps. If you have never mowed the lawn -or maybe it’s been a few years – here’s a simple primer.


30 Easy Steps To Mow The Lawn


1. Text spouse(see above) and ask for instructions.


2. Decide instructional text from spouse is not instructional at all but you’ll be damned if you will admit to him that you have no idea what a ‘fuel switch’ or ‘choke’ are.


3. Go into the garage and look at lawn mower to find these “secret lever and button” things that your spouse mentioned.


4. Decide they still don’t make sense.


5. Consider asking a neighbor for help, but decide they might rat you out to your spouse.


6. Further study mower. Decide you don’t really even want to touch it because it’s kind of dirty and gunky and stuff.


7. Decide to focus on the mowing outfit instead. Safety first – You need to take your strappy wedges off and put on closed toed shoes.


8. Look through closet for closed toed shoes – and realize you have to decide between pumps with a 4″ heel, UGG boots, or running shoes. None of them matches your dress and you consider what clothing you might have to put on to match any of these options. Decide on the running shoes and put them on. Look in the mirror and consider changing into running clothes as these really clash with your dress.


9. Walk back out to garage in a completely horrible outfit. Hope neighbors are not home.


10. Decide mowing the grass was a really bad idea because it has caused a huge fashion dilemma.


11. Stare at mower again. Nothing looks like a choke.


12. Huh.


13. Go back into the house and grab iPhone.


14. Google “What does a choke look like on a Honda lawn mower.”


15. Get a bunch of results that tell you how to fix a bunch of shit with a Honda mower but NOT ONE simple picture of a damn choke lever-doohickey thing.


16. Google “How to start a Honda lawn mower.”


17. Scroll through results. Find a YouTube video of a young child starting a Honda mower. Determine this will probably be your best chance to learn about the mower since it’s not coming from a man.


18. Watch video. Consider adopting this brilliant child who showed you where all of the buttons and levers are, and made starting a mower look like something even a 45 year old women wearing a sundress and running shoes could do.


19. Watch video four more times as a confidence builder.


20. Turn on and flip and do allthethings to alltheleversandbuttons.


21. Pull string thingy.


22. Mower STARTS!


23. Yell “HOT DAMN!”


24. Realize it’s been three hours since you started thinking about this mowing the lawn business.


25. Finish mowing small yard in 10 minutes.


26. Turn off all of the button and lever things and return mower to the garage.


27. Husband texts and asks how things went.


28. You text husband back telling him you finished hours ago and it was a breeze and it seemed like just yesterday since you mowed.


29. Sit down and enjoy a refreshing lemonade and look at the nice neat mow-lines you made.


30. Text husband and tell him it’s his night to cook AND do the dishes.


So who mows the lawn at your home?


12 Signs That You Are Menopausal

“You’re in menopause.” My doctor said calmly and with almost a little smile-smirk on her face. “Your tests have all come back – and you’re healthy. Sure a little low on iron as you typically are, but now that those pesky periods are gone – that should just correct itself.”


Pesky periods.


“Menopause? But I’m only 45. Well now 45 and a half and rolling quickly downhill to 46, but surely right now I’m only 45.” I told my doctor – and not with a smirk-smile on my face but rather a more ‘are you fucking kidding’ me look, and my voice was less than quiet.


“Yes, menopause. I mean you might have one or two more periods but your test results show you should be done with them in about six months at the most.”


Menopause. But I’m still young. Right? The only person I could think of who reached menopause in their 40s was Ma Ingalls. Remember that episode when Laura announced her pregnancy and Caroline did too – but it turns out that Caroline was NOT pregnant – she was just in menopause. And then she fell into a deep depression. Yeah, that’s where my mind immediately went.


And I drove home that day confused. There was no menopause party. There’s no drink at Starbucks that seems appropriate for the occasion. Buying a new handbag didn’t seem logical, and there was no one I could call. I couldn’t call my husband and shock him with the fact that he’s now married to an old woman. I didn’t want to call my mother and join ‘her club’ or hear her words of encouragement as she would tell me that ‘the change’ is not so bad. Because I don’t want to bond over anything to do with my body with a 66 year old. And I don’t want advice about hormone therapy or dropping estrogen levels. Most of my friends are still having babies, counting days of their cycle to get pregnant, and chatting about diapers, and still breast feeding. And then I wondered if menopause was just something you were suppose to go through alone without fanfare or attention. Something that you whispered in passing or kept to yourself. Something you mourn when you walked past the feminine hygiene aisle at Target when just months ago you were complaining about how much you spent each month on tampons because you had to insert three at a time to not bleed through your pants. Because as much as I hate having my period…was I really ready for them to just go away…naturally?


Who do you call when you hear the words that you’ve entered menopause? When in your mind menopause is the affliction of grandmothers and looks more like this.



Than like this.


But the signs were there. I just didn’t think about researching them because I feel young and was in no way prepared for hearing that I have started “The Change.”


So if you are nearly my old age of 45 and are experiencing some interesting things with your body – well pay attention as something super fun is coming ….

Here are 12 signs that you might be menopausal…

1. You have a few years of horrible and heavy periods. Periods that look like crime scenes and periods that can’t be stopped even when inserting three tampons at a time. Periods that make you throw away all white clothing and carry around a beach towel to sit on. Periods that last for weeks and start again just days later. Periods that control your life and girlfriends hound you to consider an ablation or hysterectomy. If you are experiencing this – get ready for MENOPAUSE!


2. You’re bitchy. Maybe you don’t like the word bitchy. But you’re bitchy. So bitchy you think about ways to hurt your spouse because they chew food. That’s right, they chew food AND don’t re-fluff the pillows when they get up from the couch. Oh, and that one time they took a nap on a Sunday afternoon – DEATH WISH. You think about living on a desert island because everyone is annoying. No one gets you and you nit-pick everything. This might just be a sign of a hormonal imbalance. Or everyone else is just an asshole. But if  you are unusually bitchy – time to get things checked out. Because people must chew. Fuckers.


3. Are you gaining weight just a little too easily? Like you eat one Thin Mint cookie and gain 12 pounds and two dress sizes overnight. MENOPAUSE is looming. Or you look at a donut and your button pops on your pants…MENOPAUSE. You used to run 3 miles a few mornings a week but now you need to run three times as far and four times per day every day to stay in the same shape…MENOPAUSE.


4. Buying more razors, tweezers, and hair removal kits than usual? Buying hair removal Groupons? AND NOT FOR YOUR LEGS BUT FOR YOUR BEARD and you grew a mustache overnight. MENOPAUSE! Unfortunately I have no way to know how bad my hair growth is because I need reading glasses to actually see the details of my face – and I don’t put them on very much – but when I do I’m all like “When did I turn into Tom Selleck and why aren’t my girlfriends telling me to wax the stache?”


5. Are you a little sweaty and hot at night? Has your spouse moved to the guest room because they cannot sleep next to someone who feels like the planet Mercury? Those are called ‘night sweats’ and a sure sign that menopause is coming. Also ‘night sweats’ are less like ‘night sweats’ and more like what the ANNALS OF HELL must feel like – and you find yourself changing your pajamas and your sheets several times per night. When this happens during the day it’s called a “hot flash.” Basically you just think about how awesome it would be to live closer to the arctic circle and eat ice 24/7 ALONE.


6. Do you seek out older ladies to talk to and think anyone under 30 with good hair is kind of annoying? Hate pinterest and chevron? Do you catch yourself looking at purple clothing and thinking a rousing game of bridge might be fun? Have you switched to decaf? You might just be seeking out more ‘like company’ as you now relate better to people of your mother’s generation. Because you are in MENOPAUSE.


7. Do you feel done with babies. Like people ask you if you are done having kids and you laugh and ask what kids are exactly? Do you start getting annoyed when people bring their small children out in public? Do you wonder how it could be that you still have small children? You are probably in MENOPAUSE.


8. A little acne problem? Isn’t it fun that the break-outs of high school now have followed you to your 40s with your amazing new hormonal imbalance? Welcome to MENOPAUSE – it’s like being a teen again but without the tight body.


9. Having a little memory loss problem? Like where’s your phone – you mean the one you’re talking on? Why did I walk into the bathroom again? Why am I driving and where was I going? How did I end up at the grocery store? Has anyone seen my keys? My wallet? What’s your name? Have you started writing important things on your hand because you cannot remember anything? What was I just talking about ? Who are you? MENOPAUSE!


10. Having a touch of anxiety that everyone is better than you and maybe you’ve forgotten something? Having panic attacks about everything – that you’re not enough, that nothing is enough, that THIS IS ALL THERE IS?! MENOPAUSE!


11. Are you trying too hard to dress young – perhaps even a bit younger than your age – but then have the urge to buy a few sensible cardigans to cover your shoulders – MENOPAUSE.


12. Have your Google searches changed from searching out Hot New Nightclubs to finding the Best Tea Houses in the area? Are your concerts now more 80s bands in a second-rate theater than moshing with the young people at Bruno Mars? Feeling more like Adam Levine’s mother than his possible girlfriend – MENOPAUSE! Did you have to look up the word moshing? MENOPAUSE.


If you’ve answered yes to any of the above and need more counsel, just call me – because I think we all need that person to call when we hear the words “You’re in menopause.” Like a girlfriend-done-bleeding-prayer-chain but with a lot of swear words. I want to be that swearing older experienced lady that has coasted through menopause for you. I want to buy you that decaf.


And now that the initial shock of the official diagnosis has worn off and I’m still feeling nothing like a grandma, I do think I need to celebrate this change a bit more and I’m not beyond accepting a trip to Paris if anyone wants to treat. But in the meantime I’ll be upstairs in the bathroom plucking stray hairs and sweating to death while yelling at my husband to STOP THE FUCKING CHEWING.




Is Animal Humane Society Camp A Bad Idea?

I am a big fan of summer camps. Art camps! Drama camps! Sport camps! Outdoor skills camps! Swimming camps! Sleepaway camps! History adventure camps! Horse camps! Science camps! Yoga camps! Cooking camps! We love all of the camps – but I’m going to have to just say no next year to camp at the Animal Humane Society – because truly this is a super bad idea.


Five reasons that Animal Humane Society Camp is a bad idea:

1. Child comes home talking about the dogs they played with. Asks for a dog. Looks at you with super sad eyes and makes you go on the website to view this dog. This dog is super cute. But you don’t need a dog. You don’t want a dog. You would be the primary caregiver of the dog – and no, you just cannot get a dog. Child is heartbroken. Child cries. Child wakes the next morning with a sad face. “What’s wrong?” You ask. “It’s Bliss the dog. I just cannot think about seeing him again today knowing that he doesn’t have a home….a home as wonderful as ours.” Decide you must be the worst mother ever because Bliss is not coming to live with you. Spend day looking at the dog’s picture on the internet and thinking about your child’s sad face.


2. Your child gives up on the dog idea and instead insists that you get a cat. A kitten. Or a cat. Or two cats. Or five cats. Or any cat. Just more cats. Insists that your cat is lonely and needs more companions. You spend the evening looking at all 110 cats on the website. ALL OF THEM ARE CUTE. You realize that you are indeed a cat lady and could probably feed about 20 if your husband didn’t kick you out because you brought home so many cats. Child BEGS you for a cat. You tell her that YOU TOO want another cat – but that Daddy doesn’t want one – so she really needs to give him the sad eyes and maybe a few tears about how sad the cats are and how we NEED a cat.  Dad says no. Everyone is crushed.


3. Child decides she now wants guinea pigs. Child has never expressed interest in a guinea pig before – but it’s the next cutest and fluffiest animal after cat and dog. Child makes you look at the guinea pigs on the internet. There is a bonded pair named Elsa and Anna. HOW COULD YOU NOW NOT ALSO WANT GUINEA PIGS? But even with the Frozen theme – you don’t really understand what a guinea pig is and you don’t want one. Say no. Crush child’s dreams FOREVER.


4. Child comes home going on and on about adorable little Degus. Degu? What the what? Child makes you go to the website. This is now the most viewed website this week. You find out that a degu is a rat-like hamster creature. You just say no and explain that your 20 cats would probably eat these degus. Child goes to bed devastated that the degus don’t have a home.


5. Child barely makes it through dinner after four days of camp because it seems so unfair that she has a home and a family and a meal as a family when thousands of animals don’t. The injustice. And how can we not help just one animal. She makes a wonderful case of why we should help another animal. You feel more guilt about not adopting another pet than you did when you were an active Catholic. This is deep, people.


Now if I had my way – we would adopt about 50 animals this week..but Jed would leave us all. And animal control might actually come after us too. Also, how would we feed so many?


I love my big-hearted, softie, animal-loving girl. This camp has been perfect for her and I love that she is finding more inspiration on how she can help animals even if we don’t adopt them all.


“Mom, I’ve decided that I want to volunteer at the shelter when I’m old enough..and I want to either open my own rescue organization, work for the Humane Society, or be a veterinarian when I grow up. There are so many animals that need help and I want to be there for them.”


I’m proud of you sweetie, I love that you want a profession that helps animals. Their love is like no other.


“Yeah, I know this what I should do…but in the meantime can we please just get a dog and another cat?”


****And I’m totally kidding about saying no to this camp next year because Esther has LOVED it and she’ll be back. And maybe we will have more furry family members by then…And if your community has a camp or volunteer opportunity at your local animal shelter – please look into it. This has been such an amazing experience for my animal-loving-sweet-girl.



Trust Your Training

I kept repeating this to myself all day and night before the marathon. “Trust Your Training…Trust Your Training.” My family could tell I was stressed, worried, unsure, on edge, not myself, maybe a bit bitchy – as they tried to celebrate the night before by making an incredible carb-loading pasta feed.


And I just picked at my food. A few noodles and a glass of water was all I could stomach. But I did manage to touch-up my roots. Because as no one has ever said “If you can’t carbo-load, then make sure your gray roots are covered.”


But basically every women over 40 includes this step in their training.


I went to bed early and tossed and turned until I finally just went downstairs at 4am and turned on the coffee. I logged into Facebook and Twitter and read the “good luck” messages from friends, the Grandma’s Marathon feed, and checked the weather forecast 52 times.


I ate two pieces of toast and a banana with my coffee and drank very little water. By this point I was already peeing constantly and my nerves were getting worse. I hated being up this early and having to catch a bus with so much time to still kill before the start of the race.


“Trust Your Training…Trust Your Training.”


I made small talk with my bus-mate during the hour up to the start of the course, and during our conversation I said “I just need to remember to have fun and enjoy this celebration of my training journey. This is the party.”


And then I felt better.


“Trust Your Training. Enjoy the celebration.”


I mean sure, then I had to pee three million times before the race started – and if you’ve never ran a marathon before, the starting area goes something like this…


…there are about 10,000 people and 500 porta potties and you get in line…wait in line…pee..get back in line…wait in line…pee…get in line…wait in line…pee..hear them announce that you better get your ass in line to start the race and think “My god, but I have to pee again!” but it’s too late.


So then all 10,000 people finally get lined up and start stripping down. Clothes, hats, and gloves are flying everywhere as we strip down to our running clothes and shed our warm-up clothes because it’s only 45 degrees and raining. Now we freeze for a few minutes in our tank tops and shorts. Nobody smells yet though, so we all stand close. But we all have to pee.


Then the National Anthem in sung. Everyone goes quiet. Except me when I whisper to the young, shirtless, cold chap next to me “OMG is that Gordon Lightfoot singing?” And he’s all like “Who?” and I’m like “You know the guy who sang the Edmund Fitzgerald song!” and he was all like “The What?” So I gave him a dirty, motherly, exasperated look and scooted up a few rows where I spotted some handsome guys with graying hair and said “Gordon Lightfoot, seriously the best, right?” And they were all like “Right, how amazing?” And then I realized that I found my people. And they are no longer 25 years old.


“Trust Your Training. Enjoy the celebration. Teach the young people who Gordon Lightfoot is.”


And then the gun goes off and we just stand there because there are 6000 people in front of us. And everyone still has to pee. But after several minutes we finally run through the starting line and run like a pack of sardines for a mile or two. Unless you are a man. If you are a man – you have broken off from the pack and are now peeing on the side of the road.


Actually – there are three types of men who run marathons – 1. The ones who pee right on the side of the road in front of everyone, 2. The ones who prefer to run into the woods and hide and pee behind a tree, and 3. The ones who wait in line at the porta-potty.


There is only one type of woman who runs a marathon -women who wish we had a penis when we run marathons so we could more easily pee on the side of the road.


“Trust Your Training. Enjoy the celebration. Teach young people who Gordon Lightfoot is. Don’t pee your pants.”


So then I started out too fast – like I always do and kept hearing this voice “Don’t go out too fast.” But I didn’t listen to that voice because I still felt great at the half-marathon point and even the 19 mile point..and I didn’t really feel too shabby at the 22 mile point. Also, the urge to pee finally let-up at mile 9. That was the best part of my whole day.


But then that damn four-hour pacer lady with the balloons passed me at mile 23 and that really pissed me off because I could no longer keep up. Also my stomach hurt and I was convinced all of my teeth were rotting out because of the 16 gel-shots I had consumed.


“Trust Your Training. Enjoy the celebration. Teach the young people who Gordon Lightfoot is. Don’t pee your pants. Don’t puke and keep the balloon girl in sight.”


And then I saw MY PEOPLE at mile 24. My aunt and uncle were there – and I was like “WHERE THE HELL HAVE YOU BEEN.” No, I was more like sobbing and so happy to see someone I knew…because it made those last two miles so easy. Also, my teeth hadn’t fallen out yet.


And then I got to mile 25 and starting smiling and almost sprinting at the end and then I saw MY PEOPLE at the finish line – my babies and husband yelling for me..and I waved at them all cool like….


“Trust Your Training. Enjoy the celebration. Teach the young people who Gordon Lightfoot is. Don’t pee your pants. Don’t puke and keep the balloon girl in sight. Finish strong.


And I saw that I was finishing at about 4 hours and 1 minute. And just in front of a couple of young guys in their 20s who have no clue about Gordon Lightfoot. We high-fived all around and one of them said “Good job, Ma.”  I finished strong and not even tired or that sore. And I could still walk and talk. I felt incredible actually.


“Trust Your Training.”  – When I ran Twin Cities Marathon I trained for a 4:15-4:30 marathon and I finished right in there. This time – for Grandma’s Marathon – I trained for a 4-4:15 marathon..and I finished right in there..and wasn’t disappointed that I did not finish in under 4 hours – because I finished the exact marathon I trained for – and without injury, or peeing myself.


Next time – I plan to train for a 3:45-3:55(Boston qualifying for this old lady) – and if I can do it without injury – well I know I can do it. Because I trust my training. The rest of it is just a bunch of mind games.


So next time – tell me to simmer down – and to remember that the marathon is indeed the easy part and the celebration. And maybe with a little luck I’ll get to hear a little Gordon Lightfoot again.


And even if I don’t reach my goals – at least I still have a cat at home to mess with.



There’s No Such Thing As Normal

“Just stand like a normal person so I can get a quick picture before you leave with your friends.”


What’s NORMAL Mom?


“It’s not making faces at me and just standing still so we can be quick.”


Why do you want to take pictures of me anyway?


“Because I want to remember you just like this at 11. My brain in getting mushy and old so I want pictures to remember 11.”


Well then you need to remember that I wasn’t normal at 11.




Because nobody is normal. Normal doesn’t exist. Normal is nothing. I’m me. Just me and for sure not normal.


“Really? Do you like being not-normal?”


Yep – it’s always good to be not normal. Maybe we should not even say normal anymore. Maybe everyone should just be weird. Because EVERYBODY IS WEIRD! I’m weird. So weird. I like being weird. I like weird friends. I like weird people. What if we just replaced the word “normal” with “weird” and then like nothing else would matter. Because you’d be all “Hey, act weird(instead of normal) and I’d be all like “No problem” – I can just stand here and I’m weird because I am weird and then everyone would laugh. Because the word “weird” is kind of weird, right?


“You’re weird.”


I KNOW, right? See, now I can pose “weird” for you – because I don’t know what normal means. But weird – everybody can love being weird. Normal is nothing.


“So we should remove normal from all the books, all the dictionaries, all of our vocabularies?”


I think everyone would get along better if we did. Normal makes me worry, makes me compare, makes me feel bad. Weird makes me happy and I like when people call me weird. I like people who like being weird.


“Sometimes I wonder why you’ve never had the girl drama at school like I did growing up, or like I hear about from my friends and their tweens lately. Why do you think you don’t or I don’t hear about it at your school?”


Because we’re all weird mom. And we like being weird. I think people worry and feel jealous when they try to be and define normal. When it’s not their normal. I’ll never be normal because it doesn’t exist. So I don’t think anyone else is normal either. I find their weird thing. I have lots of weird things. My friends and I laugh about all of the weird things.


“I love you.”


Because I’m weird?


“Because you’re you.”


So do you want just one ‘normal’ pose. Your definition of a ‘normal’ pose?


“No because I don’t think there’s such thing as a normal pose anymore.”


I can stand still you know. For you.




But now I’ve got to dance again because I’m weird.




The 20 Mile Marathon Training Run

I’m currently training for another marathon since getting my marathon mojo back last year. I’m running Grandma’s Marathon in just about a month from now and I’ve been posting my long run pictures on Instagram and Facebook and have received some great comments like “You’re crazy!” “Better you than me!” “Did you really start your run at 3:30am?” and “That’s 20 miles more than I will ever run. As in..I don’t run.”


I have to say that the most interesting and most difficult part of marathon training is getting to that 20 mile training run. For many – it’s the height of their mileage and there’s a lovely and enjoyable taper for the next few weeks before the marathon. And for some, the 20 miler is just the first of a few 20 milers that they’ve included in their training plans. There are about four gazillion marathon training plans out there – for the novice, the beginner, the intermediate, the experienced, the professional, the “I want to qualify for Boston” runner, and the “I just want to finish before the sag wagon makes me get in” runner.  Everyone finds a plan and then tweaks it for their personal time, goals, injuries, and condition.


But the 20 mile training run is the ultimate, the goal, the big run, the big kahuna of marathon training(and I’m doing three of them for this training program), and for non-marathon runners – it’s seemingly crazy and impossible.


So what I want to do for you here today is dissect my 20 mile marathon training run for you mile by mile, so you can better understand how this run is so easily accomplished.


I hope this is both informative and helpful to you if you’re embarking on your first marathon training program.

(Please note that this particular 20 mile run may not be the same for everyone. I am an early, early morning runner so my run does not interfere with any family plans that day, and because many times my husband leaves for work by 7:30am, so I want to be home with the kids before he leaves.)


3:15am – The alarm goes off.  Hit snooze and cover head with blankets. Ignore reality. Cat even looks at you like “What the fuck, dude, it’s like the middle of the night?”

3:25m – The alarm goes off again. Slowly rise and wonder why the hell you are doing this. Question sanity. Question humanity. Question the point of marathons. Question why the cat wants to be fed now because it’s really early for that crap.

3:28 – Eat 1/2 a banana. Try to not puke up the banana because no one should eat a banana at 3:30 in the morning. Look at the bagel you set-out and decide there is no way you can eat a bagel right now, so decide to just eat a few tablespoons of peanut butter right from the jar. Close eyes and try to think of something positive because eating at this hour is just not normal, okay, or enjoyable.

3:35 – Pee and grab extra toilet paper to pack in your fuel belt just in case you need to pee, or god forbid poop on your 20 mile run. Consider how ridiculous this whole running a marathon thing is because you are now packing toilet paper in case you have to poop in someone’s yard. Also bring a bag to pack-away poop and paper. OMG WTF are you doing?

3:37 – Get dressed and finish packing fuel belt – water, gel shot things, toilet paper, pepper spray, house keys, iPhone, and ear buds. Turn on playlist and arrange ear bud cord.

3:40 – Walk out of house and into the complete black of night. Question sanity again. Cry a little. It’s so dark, you’re so tired, you can’t believe you’re doing this. Start RunKeeper app.

3:41 – Start running. Reluctantly.

Mile 1 – Legs try to remember what to do. Legs thinking about the bed. And blankies. Head thinks – “Only 3 hours left!”

Mile 2-3 – Car is coming up behind you slowly so you convince yourself that these are bad guys and this is how your life will end. Grip pepper spray and run like a motherfucker. Have best pace/mile yet because you’re running for your life. Eventually car stops and someone gets out and throws a paper on someone’s porch. Turns out it was not an ax murderer driving slowly behind you, it was a paper boy. Decide that’s a really sucky job because it’s super early right now. Also think about how awesome your marathon time would be if bad-guys chased you the whole time. Consider planning a fake bad-guy marathon. Wonder if it’s a brilliant idea.

Miles 4-5 – Find a nice pace now that someone’s not trying to kill you. Start doing training run finish math in your head. “Okay I’m now 1/5 done with my run – or four more of those exact mile groups and I’m done! That’s not so bad, right?” Wrong – the first five miles are much easier than the last five miles. Consider how to do real marathon math as your legs get tired. Start hating math and anyone who does math.

Miles 6-7 – Your child has been fucking with your playlist and “Do you want to build a snowman” comes up on shuffle. “No, no you don’t want to build a snowman!” You yell. You make up your own lyrics. “Do you want to run a marathon, are you crazy and senile? Don’t you know it hurts like hell, you may shit yourself, you try to smile…” Decide you will break the Frozen DVD when you return home.

Mile 8 – Will the sun ever rise? Will it be dark forever? Will you step in a pothole? If people see you running this early in the morning do they A. Think you’re crazy, or B. Think you’ve just robbed a bank? or C. Think you’re the bad-guy.

Mile 9 – Step in a pothole – tumble forward and scrape hands, knees, and elbow on street. Consider tweeting to the City of St. Paul about the atrocious pothole situation and ask them what you’re really getting for the $6,000 property tax bill. Consider how crazy you’ll sound when you say “I fell into a pothole at 4am whilst out running in the dark without a headlamp!”

Mile 10-11 – A police car drives by, turns around and then drives slowly by again with his window down… You then wonder if maybe you DID rob a bank – because you have guilt because you were Catholic once. You also consider that sitting in the back of his squad car and getting a ride home would be kind of awesome because you’re starting to get tired. He just waves and smiles. You wave back and point to fuel belt and running shoes to like show him that you did NOT rob a bank but are just some crazy-lady taking a very early morning run.

Mile 12-15 – Wildlife miles! First a flock? A bunch? A gaggle? A school? Oh, A HERD! of deer is standing in the road in front of you. Just staring at you. Like not moving at all. You slow to a walk and have to move to the side to get around them because they DO NOT MOVE! You tell them that a deer standing in the road is like totally bad news. They continue to stare at you and do not move out of the road even after you warn them. You decide that you no longer like Bambi and cannot be responsible for accidental deer deaths if they can’t even listen to you. Then a crazy raccoon runs right in front of you and evidently you startle him because he gets up on his hind legs and starts making some crazy-ass sounds. So you cross to the other side. It’s like “Dude, I don’t want to be here right now either, but we need to be here together in peace!” But the wildlife story of the morning belongs to the Flock? Group? Gaggle? of turkeys at mile 15. They were all pissed off that you were on their road and spread their feathers out and started running at you while making some crazy, awful noises. Have second best pace running from turkeys as you did running from the paperboy at mile 3. Think about an actual Thanksgiving Turkey Trot race where actual turkeys run after and attack the competitors. Would people sign up for that?

Mile 16 – Encounter another runner for the first time this morning. They look really fresh and blow past you as you yell “I’m on mile 16 of a 20 mile run – so THAT’S why I look and smell the way that I do!!!”

Mile 17 – Tired. Oh so tired. Think about calling someone to rescue you because you’re not sure you have another three miles in you. Eat another goddamned gel block. Think about how much you hate these things now. Think how real food would taste super good. Like a donut. OMG A DONUT. Where are the donuts? And coffee. Why isn’t there coffee delivery.

Mile 18 – Still running. More slowly. But still running. Do you really have to run two more miles? You need a sag wagon? Where’s my sag wagon? You doubt everything in life because your body cannot take you two more miles. Your playlist runs out and now all you have is the sound of silence for company – and the voices in your head telling you to stop for donuts.

Mile 19 – You can do this. Only one mile left. You can run one mile in your sleep. You can run one mile with your arms behind your back. You can run one mile with your legs tied behind my back. You still want a donut – but you can run one mile. Remember this is what it’s like at mile 20 during the actual marathon and you don’t think you can make it those last six miles..but you’ve trained for this. You’ve got this.

Mile 20 – You DID THIS! Three hours and some odd minutes later YOU ARE DONE! It’s light out, your legs have carried you forward, YOU CAN DO THIS, YOU DID THIS, and now you will hobble into your house and drink coffee and eat a donut. BEST RUN EVER! You cannot wait to do this again next weekend. YOU ARE WOMAN HEAR YOU ROAR! Unless you’re a man. Or a deer. Or a turkey. You forget all about the bad guys, the paperboys, the potholes, the turkeys, and the awful gel shots. It’s like childbirth but you get to wear clothing. And shoes.

2pm Take nap. Let kids watch as much TV as they want.

End scene.


Do you love the long runs during marathon training? What do you do to pass the time?



Superhero Moms And A $200 Amazon Giveaway #happymamas

I’ve felt like a pretty bad mother since Listen To Your Mother ended last week. Trying to get back into the everyday of life – packing lunches, doing laundry, cooking meals, grocery shopping, cleaning, and working – has been more difficult than it should be. It’s also why my kids have eaten jelly toast and apples for lunch four nights in a row and we’re down to our last half roll of toilet paper. It’s like Russian Roulette pooping around here because you never know if you’ll end up in the bathroom without the toilet paper. So maybe it’s best to just bring your own if you come over for a visit. Or maybe not visit us at all because our house isn’t clean and I can only offer you water.


But the beautiful thing about all of this -KIDS DO NOT CARE. Only I do. I care about a clean house and full fridge and clean jeans and toilet paper. My kids haven’t noticed anything amiss because their home is still here, and we are still here. And healthy. And can laugh about the jelly toast for the fourth night in a row.


We put so much pressure on ourselves to be a ‘good mom’ and ‘do it all right’ and ‘to be at every thing our kids do’ but we need to realize that a good hug, an I Love You, and just time for a snuggle(or a fist-bump if you have a tween like mine), is really all we need to do to be a Superhero Mom most days.


We are a Superhero to these little folks – whether our cape is showing or not.


Mother’s Day is a strange day in my book. A card makers holiday that I personally don’t need. I don’t receive gifts, flowers, or brunch and frankly all I wanted to do on Sunday was to stay in jammies all day and watch movies with my kids and maybe not have to cook dinner because I love take-out. I will love you forever if you would just surprise me with take-out. The girls all made me cards – which really they do not have to do – but Eloise’s card this year was amazing. And in my eyes – her gift was much more than just this piece of paper with her fabulous cartoon – it was that she gave me the gift of knowing I’m raising wonderful, creative and thoughtful people.


Her cartoon reminded me that we are all Superheros who hold this job of mom.


In fact I took this SuperheroMom Quiz from and found out that I am Cat Woman! As I self-proclaimed cat lady – I think this fits me well!

Screen shot 2014-05-14 at 1.21.05 PM is a great source for celebrating moms this month because of the great savings, deals and coupon codes. Take the quiz and find out what your superhero power is, and while you are there be sure to enter enter the Mother’s Day Giveaway this month where you can win prizes like a $500 Visa gift card, a $500 Sephora gift card, a Vitamix and a Roomba. is a great source for celebrating moms this month because of the great savings, deals and coupon codes. is also sponsoring a Happy Mama Moments Mother’s Day Should Be Every Day Giveaway for a $200 Amazon gift card that can be used for whatever you want on! For a chance to win see below:
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Disclosure: I was not compensated for this giveaway or post. All opinions are mine.