Tag: motherhood

don’t ask me about my cast

Today is Day 16 of my Whole30 journey. I must say, it’s been wild, and rewarding thus far, and I can honestly see myself making this a lifestyle. As long as I can master the damn mayonnaise recipe! I think I’ve had it easier than most, with hardly any side effects, and no cravings, because

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i know the secret

I  found out how to be an amazing mother. I mean, after all the years of changing more diapers than I can count, all the sleepless nights, struggling to feed my kids balanced meals, taking them to soccer, basketball and t-ball practice, monitoring their grades, refereeing their fights, and setting curfews…all it took was a simple

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someday is tomorrow

Tomorrow morning my eighteen year old son will leave on his chest-beating-coming-of-age-I-am-an-independent-grown-up-hear-me-roar, road trip. His traveling companions are also eighteen year old boys. These boys are nerdy, MENSA, honor-roll types who just graduated high school last month and all of them either have a college degree already, or they have over half of the credit

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i’m not ready…

“Mom, don’t wash any of my clothes. I’m saving up all of my dirty laundry and I’m going to wash it right before I leave on my trip.” Nic is referring to the fourteen hour road trip he has been planning for several months, with three other eighteen year old boys. Over the July Fourth

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i should have been a killer whale

My youngest son Nic turned eighteen a few months ago and he just graduated from high school. He has his own car, a job, half a degree, his own friends and a separate life. I barely see his face these days. Hubs constantly reminds me that it’s normal for boys to separate from their parents

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Magic 18

My youngest son Nic dropped a bomb on me and Hubs a couple of weeks ago; he said he wanted to attend a gamer’s convention in July, in Austin Texas, with two of his friends. All three of the boys will be eighteen years old by July. And you know. Eighteen. That magic age when

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Yes Sir, That’s My Dobby

Do you ever look for pieces of yourself in your kids? Maybe it’s just me. Maybe I look for resemblances because I had C-sections; I went to sleep pregnant and woke up with a screaming baby and everybody said yeah, he’s yours. And I just believed them. Seventeen year old Nic is my youngest son,

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Two Down, One To Go

Today I had a list. I had a plan. I was going to wake up early, have my usual two cups of coffee, eat breakfast and go to Weirdmart for dinner and paint supplies. Then I planned to come home and throw a roast in the crockpot, and go for a run. Later, I planned

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I’m The Shell & I’m Cracked Open & Ready When He Needs Me

I’m watching my middle son sleep. That doesn’t sound abnormal, right? Until I tell you my middle son is twenty-two years old and is just visiting for a few days. Yeah. Now it’s creepy. You still don’t think so? Okay imagine for a second… What if my son opened his eyes at four-thirty in the

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Everybody Else’s Mother Wins Again

I’m not going to win The Mother of the Year Award again this year. That’s twenty-six years in a row I’ve been passed up. I’m starting to feel like Susan Lucci. My twenty-six year old son is currently annoyed with me because I called him too early this morning, and I woke him up to

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