50 Shades of Red


Not too long ago I was getting ready for a fab vacation with my girlfriends. I was rushing, as usual, trying to throw things together last minute, and
just picked a few of the Amazon top 100’s without giving it any thought. I didn’t even read the descriptions. I thought I was just signing up for some normal chick lit.

When I opened the box and my husband saw what I had bought he started laughing. Clueless, I stared at him blankly.

Apparently, I was completely cut off from world events. “Fifty Shades of Grey” was apparently a phenomenon of smut I had heard nothing about.

He immediately made me watch the SNL skit. I was simultaneously amused and horrified. My face turned bright red as I realized my mistake – and I didn’t even buy the far less obvious Kindle version?! My vacation book reads were basically porn and I had had no freaking clue.

What did I do with this? As soon as my girlfriend and I got on the plane we surreptitiously opened the thing and started looking for the dirty parts like a pair of 13 year olds. Of course we did! We’re 40 year old, stressed-out women. We deserve to be entertained!

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Keeping it Real


It is sooo easy to get caught up in wanting what you don’t have. The high-end baby couture, the money,the boats,  the vacations, the careers. I find myself wishing I had a different shape, a more exciting job, and a cabin with a giant hammock.

When it comes to “thou shalt not covet thy neighbors’ goods” – I need to go to confession more.  At this rate, I’m likely to be struck by lightning.

Jealousy just doesn’t make you feel good inside: it cripples and blinds you to the awesome things you do have. It steals your contentment. It makes you anxious. It makes you bitchy and resentful. You are not fun to be around (I speak from personal experience and the testimony of friends who have called me on it when guilty of being “that girl”).

Comparing yourself to others creates an internal dialogue that somehow you are better or worse than someone else. Neither is healthy. Telling yourself you are better keeps you from working on your defects, and telling yourself you are worse becomes an excuse.

Here are a few things I’ve been taught over the years:

  • Don’t assume. The stories we tell ourselves about the would-be happiness of others based on the cool things they have and do are usually pure fiction. That chick carrying a Prada bag with the fab social calendar may not actually like any of the people she is with, but utterly terrified to be alone.
  • Skinny people (apparently) need love too. My size six friends want to be twos, and the size twos want to be zeros. They don’t eat much food, and are just as self-conscious – if not more stressed – about their own appearance as I am.   There is fierce competition in the set.  They also break easily and fall through grates routinely. (Have I mentioned most of my dearest friends are skinny? And gorgeous?)  Give them many hugs…gentle ones.
  • The more you put your focus on giving to others and work to make others’ lives happier, the less you focus on yourself or what you don’t have. Try volunteering. Shock your mother by showing up and doing something for her. Go clean your sister’s house.
  • Focus on what you have. Lay on the floor in your house. Look at the ceiling and be grateful you have a roof. Imagine not having one. Put your hand on your belly. Is it full? Are you hungry? Even being able to ask that question is luxury. Are you wearing clothes? Do you have a car to take you to work? Do you get to have a job? If you have what you need, even if it isn’t what you want, you’re luckier than many, many people.
  • If there is something you want, work for it.  If you want the trip to Disney, start saving now.  Put in more time at work, or get creative and figure out a way to increase your income if you can.  You are the only one who can really do anything to improve your situation, regardless of how you got there.  Take responsibility for making your life better.

Occasionally, when I remember to do these things, I find I feel an awful lot better about life and people in general. I’m still sarcastic, yes,  but I enjoy life more.

The reality is unless we can learn to be happy In our own skins and content with what we have, chances are we won’t know what to do with more anyway.

That said, you people with the awesome boats and sweet swimming pools? I’m a great cook and would love to visit…

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Have I mentioned my beautiful, skinny friends occasionally take me to amazingly gorgeous islands with pools? I am blessed.

Friday gratitude list


Not only am I grateful this Friday that it IS, in fact, Friday, but also for the following:

  • The Chicago Blackhawks convention is only one weekend long. My husband will be in a good mood for weeks afterwards and be extra kind. It is worth the price.
  • It finally rained, and there is an outside chance that not every single flower in my yard will be a crisped husk.
  • The dog may have pooped in the house yes, and even pug poo is gross, but at least he chose a brown rug. Ahem.
  • Some really cool chicks commented on a few of my blog posts and passed them on, making me feel ridiculously warm and fuzzy inside.
  • I have been writing for a whole three weeks now, longer than I manage most diets.
  • My mother-in-law is MY mother-in-law and my kids are MY kids.
  • Today is yet one more chance to greet the dawn and kick some azz! (insert theme to ‘Rocky’ here)
  • What are YOU grateful for today??

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    The Schedule


    1:55 am. Respond to screaming baby and try to put him back to sleep. Change diaper. Put permanent dents in chest from leaning over side of crib rubbing infant’s back.

    2:18 am. Return to bed. Rescue pillow from pug, try to block out combined snores of husband and dog. Resent hot pillow.

    3:34 am. Wake to sound of child’s screams. Try to blot out sound ineffectively. Wake up husband and delegate bottle duty. Lay in bed pretending I am not monitoring activity. Fall back to sleep. Nightmare. Damn.

    4:50 am. Wake, remembering that I forgot to send a work email. Panic.

    5:50 am. Husband’s 20-year-old alarm goes off – for me. Horrid sports radio. ::shudder:: Force self into shower, away from annoying sound.

    6:30 am. Trick daughter into clothes for preschool, search house for hair clip and left shoe. Try not to wake baby.

    6:34 am. Woke baby. Cuss under breath. Remind daughter she didn’t hear anything.

    7:45 am. Leave house with random food items for lunch.

    7:50am. Blow through Dunkin Donuts for the coffee I was giving up. Burn mouth, make note to order iced tomorrow.

    8:30am. Arrive at office. Pluck eyebrows in car mirror, apply makeup so as not to scare coworkers.

    8:34am. Work. Try not to mess up. Eat lunch at desk, try to remember what day it is. Make note to play Lotto.

    6:13pm. Leave office. Report location and status to spouse. Pick up dinner for family.

    6:53pm. Walk in house. Drop purse, pick up baby. Hug toddler. Share food. Cuddle and play with kiddos.

    7:45pm. Give baby bottle. Hope baby falls asleep before I do.

    9pm. Fall asleep in clothes on bed while husband continues to try and wrangle toddler.

    ::Repeat. Rinse. Pray. ::

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    On Rage: 5 options when homicide is not an option.


    We learn as little kids not to hit when we get angry – usually after we’ve slugged somebody. Apparently, we find, punching your sister in the face when she hurts your feelings isn’t proper behavior. Throwing things, screaming, pulling hair, tantrums of incendiary proportion: all bad.

    By the time we hit adulthood, we have learned to hide anger. Pacificism and enlightenment are the answers. We learn to repress, to justify, to just suck it up. We learn to drink, to medicate, and to hide. We are successful, it seems, when no one outwardly experiences the other end of what we’re feeling. The closer we come to the embodiment of Spock, the better we are.

    I don’t know how that works personally for you, but for me it sucks. I am a woman of, good or bad, strong opinions and even stronger emotions. I don’t just get angry: if unchecked, that anger ferments into a fine, ugly rage. And with nowhere to go, the emotions eat at my insides like acid. There aren’t enough mashed potatoes I can eat (suddenly craving mashed potatoes) or veiled, snarky comments I can make to reduce the bile that burns me up from the inside out. It uses too much of my energy, and I burn out. I shut down.

    Here are some things I’ve learned can help when homicide just isn’t an option:

    1. Get a tennis racket. Beat your bed with the tennis racket, or just use your fists. The bed won’t care, and you might feel better. If nothing else, your sore fists might distract you temporarily.
    2. Scream until your throat hurts. I have learned that doing this somewhere where you cannot be seen is probably best. Drive to a deserted parking lot or a park; wait until no one is home to hear you, and let loose. Try not to get arrested.
    3. Write. When I say that, I mean it cautiously: don’t write something you may accidentally send on in your fervor. Write out your feelings and your venom. And then? Destroy it. No one needs to go back and read what your wrote, especially you – or anyone who might inadvertently come across what you never wanted another set of eyes to see.
    4. Break something. Maybe you have boxes in your garage that could be broken down, or plates you despise. Give them names if necessary. Destroy them. Show them no mercy, the bastards.
    5. Go for a walk. Now, before you think I am just talking about a normal walk, I’m not. Walk as hard and as fast you can. Throw in some sprints that take away your breath. Jump – on something if you can find it. Yell at a squirrel. If necessary, find another neighborhood to roam so your neighbors don’t think you’re a nut job.

    The Magic of actually Opening your Eyes to Nature


    Rushing to the grocery store this morning at 6 a.m. (we were out of food yet again and the baby needed milk) my brain was on a million different things, including my woes. I hadn’t slept, I had work waiting for me at the office, and I was driving like an automaton. Suddenly I looked up from a stoplight and saw – this. Continue reading

    Use What You Have and Make Your Own Rainbows


    I sometimes think I came into this world as an exposed wire under a dark cloud: no barriers or safe orange plastic to protect me from the rain I was born knowing was coming. I was not shiny happy. Overly sensitive and over stimulated, I was easily hurt and had trouble making friends. Continue reading

    Panic attack at 1am


    Huh? What? I am awake – why am I awake?

    My right arm is tingling and numb – am I having a heart attack or was I just laying on it funny? Which arm is it that you have to worry about? I should download WebMD so I don’t look stupid if I have to call someone. Continue reading

    A letter to the Passive Aggressive


    Dear Passive Aggressive:

    I would like to formally file a complaint. You will note I am stating directly that at present I am unhappy with you. Let me be clear: I think your communication skills are ineffective at best, and are a giant drain on my mental processing capacity to boot. Continue reading