True To Myself

When I was 16 my grandmother told me my ass was so big she could play poker on it.  I cried, and then I got over it.  My grandmother is a tell it like it is kind of woman, and if you don't like it, don't listen.  Im a bit like my grandmother.  I started this blog almost a year ago..with no idea where it would go or who would read it if anyone.  I wasn't sure if it would be like my latest diet and fitness plan lasting three days and ending with a tear filled binge fest.  But here it is almost a year later, 87 entries, almost 3000 hits a month, its own fan page with over 350 fans...and has even helped land me a real newspaper column.  This blog is my sanity, my savior, in a sense my best friend..and I feel like I have let it down. 
Due to various reasons, none of which I regret, I have written three posts, posted them, and then deleted them.  The first one, I was afraid would offend someone, someone I really didn't want to offend.  The second one, was when I was going through a rough patch in my relationship and I blogged about it, my situation changed and I erased the blog...almost as if it never happened.  The third one was yesterday, I blogged about an experience in church- and without meaning to it hurt a very dear friends feelings.  I erased the post, her friendship means more to me than that post for sure.
What I am getting at though, is that from now on I am not going to erase any of my posts.  I am going to be careful as to not hurt anyones feelings, because that is never an intention of mine.  I am not a malicious person.  I am an honest person though and unfortunately for those people that are in my life..I am also a writer.  People may not realise what this blog mean to me.  It is not just something silly to me.  It is not just another form of social networking.  Writing is the only thing that I have found that I am good at, that I feel that I can contribute, that I feel I was put here to do.
Thanks for reading...and if you are my family, or friends...unfortunately for you...you are fair game :-)

Morons....EVERYWHERE!

Over tired- weekend way too short

Need a gun....to shoot MORONS

Don't talk to me...it's monday, and you're a MORON

A.M. came way to early

Yelling might make me feel better- especially if yelling at MORONS

Lions and Tigers and Dinosaurs...Oh My!

I love my son. This weekend while visiting a goat farm (this is Vermont you know) Little Man walked right up to the big momma goat and said “Hi dinosaur”, then casually strolled away. This cracked me up. Not only did the ugly goat-ette look an awful lot like a prehistoric creature, but the nonchalant-ness of the statement was priceless. Its as if Little Man lives in a world where seeing dinosaurs is a regular occurrence. Lately, he has been pretending a lot- something that I can watch him do for endless amounts of time. “Mommy”, he will say while pointing at his chest “I a tiger”.

“Oh no”, is my expected response, “A tiger! Don’t eat me”. Taking my statement seriously he will change creatures. “Mommy, I a baby”. At this point I must pick him up and rock him, as he says “goo goo, gaga” and squints his eyes. For some reason when LM is in pretend mode he has to have his eyes squinted. Just this last week he has been a tiger, a baby, his best friend, a bed, Elmo and now a goat. He even pretends to be a doll- which is my favorite because he just sits there…squinting, for a good length of time.

Maybe there are dinosaurs roaming around in his world. Maybe, in Toddler town squinting means that you can change into anything that you want. Maybe ill ask him if he wants to pretend to be potty trained…

Not again...

I’m not sure yet, if my morning mishaps have become cumbersome and overdone- however, my blondest moments happen to occur prior to my first sip of coffee…what I am getting at is that this is another blog about well…my morning.


I will tell this story a little differently- just to switch it up a bit. Ill start with the result of my AM goof- I think I have a brain tumor- it’s the only explanation, I am not even a real blonde for crying out loud.

Now, onto the events as they happened: This morning was a bit out of the ordinary (my excuse). You see Little Mans daycare is closed for the afternoon due to staff training. This means that PMH is staying home with Little Man so that I can go to work (gee thanks). Because I did not have to get LM up, dressed and brushed this morning I allowed my self an extra 4 minutes to sleep in- 7:30..not 7:26- blissful. Because of such decision, however, I would not have time to make coffee at home- therefore a stop at the gas station becomes inevitable.

I get my coffee, chat with the attendant about the happiness that Fridays bring and make my way to my rig. On my way out of the parking lot I see an old friend hanging out of his company vehicle motioning me to stop and chat…I glance at the clock and see that I am actually going to be on time if I don’t chat- but then again I am never on time so I pull to the right. Window down old friend pops his head into my passenger side and we perform the humanistic ritual of shooting the shit. I want you to know that I have not sipped my coffee yet because it will take another 8 miles for it to cool enough to where if and when I spill it on me while driving I will only walk away with a first degree burn and a stained shirt.

Realizing that I have not seen this friend in AGES I say “have you even met my son?” as I tick my neck in the direction of Little Mans car seat…Little Mans empty car seat. Friend looks puzzled and as I turn to tell Little Man to say hi to mommy’s friend, I realize my faux pas. I giggle…a lot…and then try and explain.

“Oh wait”, I mutter, “I don’t have him”.

Long lost friend furrows his brow and says nervously, “Should you?”



I am seriously considering a cat scan.