Monthly Archives: August 2015

Ashley an Instamom and an Inspiration

The divorce rate in America is estimated between 40-50% of all marriages. Of those marriages I imagine the majority are divorced parents. Divorce (I can only imagine) is hard. Parenting is difficult. Combined, I have no freaking idea how you process it all with grace and humor. But what happens when your spouse remarries?

Hopefully you are lucky to have them marry a woman like my friend Ashley. A woman who understands not only what it means to be an instamom but that a stepmom is more than being a parent.

I met Ashley at LTYM Boston this winter. Having a similar sense of humor we became fast friends. Ashley has the best job EVER creating Italian travel adventures with her company L’Esperta. I live vicariously through her blog. When I finally wear David down and convince him to travel to Italy I am making Ashley not only plan our trip but will make her go with us!

I blinked and it’s almost over

This summer I have taken more time off of work than I ever have in the past. I have taken more time to spend with my family. I have traveled and I have connected. I have also disconnected from my phone/e-mail/social crap. I have read more books this summer and watched less reality TV.

I’m freaking exhausted. Continue reading

The great scissor mystery

Please note: this post is meant to be humorous and in no way is meant to be a statement in regards to my role on the School Committee. Read with caution and a sense of humor.

Dear School,

I am looking over the back to school list and well I do not want to sound miserly, but what the hell is up with needing a pairs of scissors every year? And not just any scissors but Fiskar scissors! By my calculations I have sent in six pairs of scissors. When I do the math: 18 children in each class equals 108 pairs of scissors. Every freaking year.

Where did they all go? Are they with the missing sock from my dryer?

Then there are the amount of pencils needed. I get it, you need pencils, tissues (Kleenex–not store brand), disinfecting wipes (not Clorox), crayons & markers (Crayola brand). It’s the amount of product you request that I wonder where are you putting it all? Do you have some huge storage lockers we don’t know about? For example (class size/number are my estimate):

48 pencils x 18 children x 10 classrooms = 8640 pencils
3 rolls of paper towels (for art?) x 18 children x 10 classrooms = 540 paper towels
1 hand sanitizer x 18 children x 10 classrooms = 180 bottles
2 boxes of Kleenex (not cheap store brand) x 18 children x 10 classrooms= 360 boxes of Kleenex

Where are you putting it all? Would it not make more sense to have one child each week bring in a box of Kleenex? How much could you possibly go through in a week? If there are 39 weeks of school that is an average of 9 boxes of Kleenex a week. Sadly I looked up the figure and there are 80-100 tissues in a box of Kleenex (you can Google anything!). That is 720 tissues in a week. Teach my child how to use a tissue more than one blow at a time.

And pencils? That is a staggering 221 pencils…PER WEEK. The students know that although there parents send them in sharpened you can resharpen them and reuse them, right?

Please tell my my child knows this fact. Otherwise I see another talk in her future when she explains to her father why she used 221 pencils in the first week of school.

It’s having to send in paper towels for art class. Why isn’t the art teacher allowed to have paper towels? Is he not to be trusted with the Brawny man?

I want to help the school system. I promise I do not mind sending in our own paper, notebooks and if we have to send in a pair of scissors every year so be it (though I still want to know where they go. It’s keeping me up at night).  It’s the 360 boxes of Kleenex and 180 packages of disinfecting wipes (not Clorox–who did that brand piss off?) that must take up a lot of room in a classroom. I am sure the teachers would rather use their space for books and you know, learning materials rather than stockpiling for the invasion of the sneeze.

And if you must send home a list of needed items, don’t be picky. If I don’t buy Kleenex for my house I’m probably going to supply the classroom with whatever is on sale.

One last question. Is there enough room on the school bus for the children, their backpacks and supplies? If not I will start a neighborhood fundraiser for a UHaul.

A mom who is up at night wondering where all the scissors went.

For anyone not paying attention: this post is meant to be humorous and in no way is meant to be a statement in regards to my role on the School Committee. I love our teachers and will gladly supply what they need.  I would just rather send in a $25 gift card to Staples then shop. 

My brave friend Divya

When I joined the LTYM Boston cast I had no idea the breadth of stories that would be told. Allow me to introduce you to my friend, Divya. (Four Kleenex warning, but a must watch) I am honored that she is allowing me to share her piece.

I remember when I met Divya she said she “wasn’t a writer”. She is so much more than a writer, Divya gorgeous from her spirit outwards, a mom of two wonderful children, a postpartum depression advocate working diligently to make sure all women have the tools needed to triumph  and (my hero) helped to create a state-funded perinatal program to help other new moms in need of support. Divya is co-founder of the Every Mother Project that provides much needed training and support to professionals to increase availability of care to women in perinatal crisis.

To learn more about her program please visit: The Every Mother Project

Thank you, Divya, for allowing me to share your piece.

Do you ever figure out who you are?

In July I had the wonderful opportunity to meet Emily from Words I Wheel By.  Recently she had a post, Finding My Role, that got me wondering: Do we ever figure out who we are supposed to be? I know I am not alone in thinking this is not where I thought I would end up in life.

The true question is more than just where you are now (or will be). More it is how do you define yourself? Emily believes it is an insecurity issue and I find myself agreeing when I think about my own roles and how they define me. Continue reading

The Beach Milestone

Last summer ended with Bridget dancing on the beach. It was a hard fought victory for her to overcome her fear of the beach. A video I personally never tire of (sorry if you have!) watching:

Last year we never got her shoes off or for her to actually touch the sand on her own. The accomplishment was her walking on the beach (or dancing) or sitting in my lap as the waves rolled by us. Continue reading

If we were having a glass of wine…

A fellow blogger, Jamie, did a recent post entitled “if we were having coffee”, what would she say to the person across the table. I thought it was a great idea, but I don’t drink coffee. Thus the change in title.

If we were having a glass of wine I would tell you about the hectic weekend we had moving my parents moving from Virginia to our home. That we left at 3am on Friday for Logan airport, flew down and packed up her house. That we left VA at noon on Saturday and everyone in the free world was on Route 95 so it took us until 4am to get home. That it was only possible to do her move because we have a great village of supporters who took care of the girls, the bunnies and the Bailey. How much I appreciate the gift of friendship and families. How glad I am that both our parents will be in close location of their granddaughters and the positive changes happening in their lives.

If we were having a glass of wine I would tell you how I seem to be on a World War II reading binge. In the past month I have read The Nightingale, Unbroken, The Heart of a Soldier, I Lived a Thousand Years: Growing Up in the Holocaust and am just beginning Escape from Davao. I would ask if you had any recommendations for maybe a lighter read.

If we were having a glass of wine I would tell you how excited I was to be leaving in a few days to go camping with our friends. Our annual retreat where there is no WI/FI or cell service. The one week a year where we completely unplug from the world. How we were looking forward to floating down the river, campfires and community meals. That I would be using this time to hopefully break the Facebook obsession that is taking too much time away from actually living life.

If we were having a glass of wine I would tell you how I am currently failing in my running goals but that I hope to get back up to speed and dedication soon.

If we were having a glass of wine I would tell you how I feel the summer is slipping by faster than I can breathe. That while we have traveled and taken vacations it seems like September is coming faster than expected.

If we were having a glass of wine I would tell how nervous I am about all I have taken on recently. That I am worried I am doing too much, yet not enough. I would ask you where you thought I could extradite myself from or how to manage my commitments better.

If we were having a glass of wine I would tell you about how David has been working too much and we recently had a conversation based on the Zac Brown song, Free. How that someday we want that life. The one where it is just him and I in a van traveling the country. How before marriage, “real” jobs and family we would put the tent and dog in the car destination unknown. That we want to get back to that feeling of just being us, no qualifiers. That I miss that connection of my husband and yet am thankful that after all these years we still wake up and want to be there for the other.

If we were having a glass of wine I would ask how your week was and what was new with you.

So tell me, how are you?

The Last Workshop

Part of Bridget’s program at school involves monthly workshops. An afternoon every month where all of her educational support personnel, the head of her SPED program, her preschool teacher, speech therapist and occupational therapist meet and go over every one of Bridget’s programs. Parents are encouraged to attend so we can follow through with the therapies at home. It also is a time for them to learn what behavior we are seeing at home and vice versa.  Continue reading

I wish I knew….

I remember the first time we realized something was “wrong” with Bridget. At just a day old we thought it was just a health complication. One that would resolve. Less than a year later after more doctor appointments than I can recall we were given the news:

Your child has Special Needs. Continue reading

Then I made everyone cry

This morning started bright and early. Bridget crawled into bed with me at 4:30 am. As she snuggled against my back I thought to myself, this is life. To have Bridget wake up and just crawl into my bed. All mornings should begin this way. Well, maybe begin after the sun has risen would be nicer.

The alarm sounds and my feet hit the floor as I begin the morning routine and then something went horribly wrong… Continue reading