Recipe For A Baby At 43!

If this is your first time reading my blog, welcome! I thought I would take a week to reintroduce myself to some people who started to read my blog only recently. The archives only go back so far, so I wanted to give you my back story. I try to be very truthful, very real…and FUNNY. Hope you enjoy! Here is my very first post….throwin it back!

So many friends ask me straight out “So HOW did you get pregnant?” Followed by, “You give me hope!” LOL. Oh my gosh, it was embarrassingly easy, which I KNOW is NOT the case for many women over the age of 35, let alone over 40! This I know from having many friends, who like me, because of their career or other personal things, decided to wait to have children. Many found themselves unable to conceive. I suppose I had made peace with the fact that I might not have a child. My life, I thought, was so great already, that it was truly okay if I was unable to conceive. Even choosing to marry my husband, who was 11 years my junior, came with the possibility that we might remain childless. And he married me anyway. Good guy 🙂 But once we decided to actually “try” to get pregnant, it was crazy quick. Here is my recipe for a baby. Lots of sex….like everyday (seriously)…with a younger husband. The first month we tried, we were pregnant. Now, I was very healthy. I had no reproductive issues. I do not want anyone to think I am being flip about how easy it was. My heart breaks for anyone who can’t conceive who really wants to. Especially now, as I know what I would be missing. I always kept it in my head, that if was meant to be, then it would be. So I guess I was really relaxed about it happening or not happening.

“lots of sex….like everyday (seriously)”

The first three months were fine, except I had really bad “morning” sickness ALL DAY LONG. I carried oyster crackers around with me like it was my job. And then the four month mark came around and I was miraculously better. To say the next three months were the best of the pregnancy, is an understatement. Even with the severe carpal tunnel I had in my left hand, and the placenta previa, which was stressful (but wound up being fine), the second trimester was a vacation compared to the last one. I even did a show up until I was 5 months.

6 months prego

7 months

The last trimester was lots of fun. Just ask my husband. (insert sarcasm) Lots of ice cream and foot rubs. My hands started swelling and the carpal was now in my right hand as well. My skin on my legs got severely dry and I started having Braxton Hicks contractions every few nights. When I asked my doctor (who was almost 20 years my Junior with a valley girl accent…I’m rolling my eyes) about the carpal, she said, “Huh??? I never really heard of that.” I did want to slap her, but refrained. I mean I just had to go online to find the eons of women who had dealt with it in their pregnancies. The joy of being an advanced maternal aged mom….even the doctors are younger than you. Oye! Perhaps the thing that struck me most was how tired I was. Tired like I had never known. Now I don’t know for sure, but seeing how hard the delivery was on my body, I think it had everything to do with my age…oh pardon, my advanced maternal age. 🙂

8 months

The beginning of 9 months! With the handsome hubby!

You don’t realize it….at least I didn’t…but you hit the 9 month mark…and you still have 4 more weeks to go!! It’s like a slap in the face! You go along thinking…I’m almost done!! But you’re not…its a cruel mathematical joke. You go quickly from walking to waddling. The swelling increases (and mine wasn’t as bad as some women can get. ) And the GAS!!! Holy Moly! My husband was never supposed to hear those sounds coming from me. NEVER!! Well that ship has sailed. Did I tell you we met on the Love Boat? No really, we did. Princess Cruises. I was a guest entertainer singing and he was my audio engineer….I am digressing. Anything to avoid the GAS.

A day or two before delivery.

To make me really savor the experience, Oliver decided to wait an extra week to arrive. So I was officially overdue…like a turkey who’s timer has popped (see photo). Because of my advanced maternal age, the doctor in the practice who I really liked (obviously NOT the gyno-girl), scheduled us for an induction. See, when you are young, they like to make you wait for the baby to be good and ready, but when your parts are older, they don’t want to take any chances. So one week overdue was plenty. Whew!

So…..The Baby Equation for us was this…..

43 year old female + 32 year old male + LOTS of sex (literally everyday)!!!! = Beautiful Baby Boy!

Hair Today Gone Tomorrow

A few weeks ago I did another thing I always said I would NEVER do as a mom. I have my reasons, as I’m sure all women do. The fact that the summer heat was breathing down my neck played a huge part in the decision. Okay okay enough with the lead up….just spit it out already! I cut my long hair. I now sport a shoulder length bob. Half way to soccer mom.

Why would I go and do such a thing? Well….let’s be fair. I wasn’t exactly “doing” my long hair on a regular basis. In fact, the number of times I “styled” it since O was born is a very low digit number. And when I actually did (which took forever) I would wind up putting it in a mommy bun or pony tail anyway. Talk about a waste of time. I just don’t have an hour or more to waste a day.

Another factor is, as I said, the summer heat. I needed that mane off my neck! Too much hair. Too much making me HOT! I started to get angry at my hair. That’s not a good place to be. And yes, I could have continually thrown it up in the Mommy bun…but just drying it was taking too much time. And to be the woman with the wet hair in the Mommy bun seemed bleaker to me than a mommy bob. The bob also seems relatively fashionable these days as I look at celebrities on the magazine covers while I wait in line at Target. Right? So I did it!

My sister in law’s niece, Abby, is a hairdresser and a complete hair genius. This girl is talented. She cut my long hair before and is awesome. I was nervous, of course, as my hair has been a crutch I’ve been holding onto. But she gave me the greatest cut and I feel a million times lighter. I feel free from the “hair.” Does anyone know what I’m talking about?

What did I think? That holding onto my long hair was going to make me feel younger? Silly Mommy. I can’t even remember what I thought the payoff was for “the hair.” Truth be told, I feel better now without the weight of the mane on my head. I feel pretty and spunky. I love it. This makes me wonder….what other myths are out there for me to dispel? What other Mom things have I been avoiding for ridiculous reasons? The reality is, that no one cares if I cut my hair….except me. So why not do what makes sense for ME? I don’t think, however, I’ll ever venture into truly short short hair as I don’t think it would suit my face at all. But again, never say never.

I think I was able to give up this crutch because everyday as a Mom I am learning more and more about what is truly vital in this a crazy life we live. Yes, how you present yourself to the world is important. It’s just not ALL Important. So if I go out without make up or my hair quaffed…who cares? Nobody but me. So when I do it, I do it for me. It’s about time, huh?

Here’s to you! Hell, here’s to US! And thanks for reading. Until next time, keep fighting the good fight and remember, behind every greasy kid is a mom who is pretty sure she is messing it up. Xo

Hands In The Dirt Head In The Clouds

What is it about putting your hands in the soil that is so therapeutic? The smell of the soil. The tugging of the weeds. It is mesmerizing to me, much to my surprise. I find myself out in the gardens of our new home, several times a day. It seems the weeding is never done. There is always mulch to spread and new perennials popping up. I’ve even started composting! The grounds are like a big mystery to me. An exciting gratifying mystery.

When we bought this house, I fell in love with the gardens. But I was also terrified of them. Up till now, I pretty much killed everything I ever tried to grow. I have hope for these gardens, though, because they were planted by someone else. Someone who had more than a clue about what they were doing. We had glorious mature perennials popping up through out the spring and summer….and I’m already seeing things coming up for autumn. It’s wonderful. My hope is that I don’t wreck it all. I am committed to at least trying to keep it beautiful.

Anyway, I digress. I was saying it was therapeutic. At least for me it is. I am fully aware it is a form of escape for me. More like a form of meditation. I take all my stress and leave it for later. I don’t know if I would go as far to say it absolves my stress…but I certainly don’t feel stressed when I’m in the garden. That’s probably why I go out to work in it so often! I engulf myself in performing a specific simple task. And I feel totally calm. Very Buddha, if you will. 🙂

Let me be clear. I don’t have stress because I’m a Mother. I have stress because I’m a person. O does not give me stress. Taking care of him everyday does not give me stress. It’s exactly where I want to be. It brings me intense joy. My stress is about life stuff. I have a darling mother who’s dark dark depression and inability to “live” her life brings sadness to me everyday. I have two wonderful parents who’s marriage is so broken but neither have a clue how to fix it. It weighs on me. Senseless gun violence, hate crimes, bigotry, health issues…they can stress you out. And Donald Trump. He’s a huge source of my stress these days. Will I have to move to a different country if he is (God Forbid) elected president? But I have to tell you, when I am in the garden…I don’t think about any of that.

I take O out with me most days for a bit of sunshine and exploration. He loves it! He is intrigued by the flowers and plants. And rocks! What is it with little boys and rocks? I let him wander within my eye’s peripheral. He is learning to separate and find distance from me with the safety net of seeing me across the yard. When he starts to get a little too far, I call him back and he toddles closer. It’s pretty awesome. It is exactly as I had imagined it in my mind’s eye….only better. It is our little Nirvana.

Maybe it isn’t for everyone. I would have never imagined it was for me. I sooo didn’t see this coming. My idea of escape used to be a trip to TJ Maxx for a little bargain retail therapy. Maybe I got into this because it absolutely HAS to be done and calling a gardener isn’t on the table right now…?? I don’t know. All I know is that I am loving it. Getting dirty and all.

Until next time, keep fighting the good fight and remember, behind every great kid is mom who is pretty sure she is messing it up. Xo

Bumpy Times Ahead

I watch O on the baby video monitor. It’s past 7:30am, but on cloudy rainy days he sleeps a little longer. He is stirring, but taking his time to wake up. I’m enjoying my coffee. In peace. Listening to a bird chirp outside the front window. I am contemplating the day. What do I introduce to him today? Will he nap long? Will it be a difficult day like yesterday? He is getting his back molars in, so the teething and drool situation is out of control and kind of throwing me. He is all out of sorts. Or is it just him getting older? Becoming coming more of a true toddler? Yikes. I’m not ready for that.

He is willful. I’ve known this about him since before his birth. I could tell in my tummy. And how true it turned out to be. And it seems that so far, he is wicked smart. What a combination. I am glad he is willful. It will be a good trait later on. I want him to be a strong individual. It’s just that now….it’s going to pose some challenges for us. Add Mommy’s flair for the dramatic and Daddy’s hot temper…..and I foresee bumpy times ahead! But then, there is always wine to soothe the day’s events, right? Is there enough wine? (Is there EVER enough wine?).

Yesterday O was playing with this grabber thing we have in the kitchen. He loves it. I call him King Triton when he carries it around. He was getting frustrated because he was trying to move it in a space that was too small to move it freely in. He started to whine and fuss. Then growl and grunt. I interjected with a “Calm down, O.” He looked at me, threw the grabber down and screamed a scream I had not ever heard from him. A primal scream followed by tears of frustration and more screaming. He had gone from 0-60 in a matter of seconds. He was officially melting down. Toddler style. I was a bit stunned, however foolish that sounds. He hasn’t been like this. He’s been pretty easy (for a baby.). Needless to say, nap time followed. Yes, his being tired and teething was a factor in this outburst, but this was a force within him I had yet to experience.

He is young for this, isn’t he? Don’t they say “Terrible TWOS?” He is just 14 months old! Is this yet another stage he will hit early? Oye. So what do we do? React? Not react? I can’t see how yelling at him would help. But coddling him after undesirable behavior doesn’t seem good either. Up till now, we have tried to redirect his attention when he starts going into behavior we aren’t crazy about. It used to work like a charm. Now, not so much.

I truly thank God that I am an older Mom as I begin to navigate this part of raising our child. I have WAY more patience than I ever would have had in my younger days. I understand that I don’t have all the answers. However, many of the answers are somewhere etched in my mind after watching the do’s and don’ts of the child rearing of my nieces and nephews. I have watched my sister-in-law, Sarah, raise three children with the consistency and patience of a saint. I often refer to my memories of watching her parent when I look for answers. When she said “If you don’t stop that behavior, we are leaving.” She meant it. If the behavior persisted, they were gone. I get it. You can’t say anything thing you aren’t prepared to make good on. I recall, “Please and Thank You are the magic words.” The tune she used to sing it to is stuck in my head, all ready to use on O. I remember her making her children look her in the eye when she was reprimanding them. It sticks more. I found myself doing it yesterday when O kept trying to take an outlet cover off after dinner. Well, today my sister-in-law has remarkable teenagers who are smart, funny, respectful and kind. She is my role model for parenting. There are more, for sure. But I am grateful I have had a lot of time to watch others, especially her.

So what to do? I find myself taking deep breathes. I try to understand the child. I try not to let his frustration become mine. I know we need to teach him what calm is despite his genetics….no easy task. But essential. I recall O’s pediatrician telling me, “He is your whole world. You just don’t want him know that.” How true, how true. Imagine adding narcissist to the list? Not on my watch! So yes, bumpy times ahead. But good times, as well, I have no doubt.

Until next time, keep fighting the good fight (I know I will) and remember, behind every great kid is a mom who is sure she is messing it up. Thanks for reading! Xo

Greetings From A Simple Farm Girl

There are days lately when I don’t recognize myself in this amazing life I have been blessed to live. Things are so vastly different since the birth of my son. I live in the country in a small town, for God sake! Not a designer boutique for over 50 miles. I always used to tell my best friend jokingly that I was “just a simple farm girl.” It’s funny to me still…but maybe there is some truth in that.

Last week my projects consisted of re-upholstering our kitchen chairs and making/canning homemade raspberry preserves from our garden. Both tasks were big successes. Mind you, both projects were pretty easy. But, I may just have a knack for this “Martha Stewart-ishness.”

Preserving and canning fruit is WAY easier than I ever thought. I started small. Just a couple cups of berries. The recipe I found on Pinterest (of course) said equal parts sugar to berries. But I have since reduced the sugar considerably. Too sweet for me. I did not use pectin. Raspberry seeds release enough pectin to give your jam a nice jelled consistency. And I didn’t have any. So there.

You start by bringing your berries to boil on there own in a medium saucepan. After about 10 minutes and regular stirring, you can add your desired amount of sugar. And then you bring that to a boil again for about 10 minutes.

In the meantime take your glass jars and put them into a pot of water and bring to a boil. You can do the same with the lids and rings in a separate smaller pot.

Once they have boiled, take them out carefully (these suckers are hot!) with a pair of good tongs. I put mine on a cooling rack. While they are still hot fill them with the hot jam. Leave about a 1/4 inch at the top. Put lid and ring on. Not too too tight, but tight enough. Place them back in the boiling pot of water. I did mine for 10 minutes….but apparently if you live at a higher altitude you may need to leave them in a bit longer. Then I took them out (with tongs) and place them on the rack to cool. Several minutes later you will hear a popping sound as each jar seals….it’s pretty cool.

Then I made labels….nothing fancy. Just handwritten. They actually come with the jars…which actually came with our house. Previous owner must have been an avid canner…? Anyway, here is my finished product! It tastes amazing! Sooo sooo good! And a fun little gift to give people when then come for dinner or a visit.

See….who am I? Giving a “how to” on making preserves? Lol! I love it. Couldn’t be happier! I moved onto homemade peach pie (OMG!) and peach preserves are next! My favorite! Until next time, keep fighting the good fight and remember, behind every great kid is a Mom who is sure she is messing it up!

That Mom

Before I had a child, I vowed to keep my offspring neat, clean and well groomed. No disheveled children. No dried food on their face. No dirt on their knees. No poop stains on the back of their pants. No sweaty, un-combed hair….you get the picture. We’ve all seen these children. I have always said, I will never be “that mom” who goes anywhere with her child in such a state. Well, as I say more often than not these days, NEVER SAY NEVER. You know, when my husband read this post, he said he thought I came across uptight and judge-y…..and well, let’s call a spade a spade…I have been.

I usually pride myself on having O look , at the very least, clean. I am definitely one for having him look adorable whenever I am out with him. You know, cute outfit, hair combed to the side, clean shoes and socks, etc. But today, after dinner, my husband and I wanted to take O to the playground. It was about an hour or so before O’s bedtime. He had his dinner. He had a poop. My husband changed him and told me that O had a little diaper leak, but that it wasn’t that much, so he kept him in the same outfit. Well, ok…I’m not gonna question the man who offers to change a diaper. The baby was fast approaching the “tired wall” and it was time to expend some serious energy. To tire the poor kid out, basically. Lets just overlook the little poop stain.

I was putting O in the car, and in the light of day, I realized his face was covered in dried sweet potato. It was also all down the front of his romper. Nice. Oh whatever…a little sweet potato never hurt anyone. His knees, now in full view, were filthy. Oye. Ok….they would get dirty at the playground anyway, right? I’m beginning to see this messy thing is a slippery slope.

About half way through our playground outing, I realized my child looked like a bonafide ragamuffin. Disheveled would be a polite term. I thought to myself, “I am THAT Mom.” But in that same instance, I knew it didn’t matter one bit. This delicious wonderful child was ours. Under all that dried sweet potato and dirt was the most perfect thing we had ever done. I guess it’s a good lesson in not judging what you see all the time. “That Mom” most likely, like me, was frazzled….in a rush….and thought to herself, “I’m just running out for a sec! What does it matter?” Well, it doesn’t. Not one bit.

Is your child happy? Is he exploring? Is she getting her hands dirty, figuratively and literally? That’s what matters. I guess I see it differently now. I see the sweat and dirt on O as an indication of how active he was all day. His energy level is through the roof! I can only imagine that level rising as he gets older. And the harder he plays, the harder he sleeps. I’m not gonna mess around with that! The occasional stain on his shirt? The smudge on his face? Well, shit happens. But one thing I know is, it all comes out in the bath water. Literally.

This does not mean I throw all good intentions of keeping my child clean out the window. But there is a time and a place for all things…and there are limits to what you can do at times. I’m a good Mom. No, scratch that. I’m a really good Mom. But I am not super human. Often, I miss a spot on his sweet cheek after lunch. Occasionally, I keep him in a dribbled on shirt. And most times he likes to run his hands through the dirt in the yard. He’ll survive….and so will I. Happily and heartily. Growing and exploring and figuring it all out….together.

Until next time, keep fighting the good fight and remember, behind every great kid is a mom who is sure she is messing it up! Xo

For Now

Yesterday I opened up my Facebook feed and felt like I got punched in the gut. Not once, not twice, but three times. Within a span of four minutes, I was given three separate notices of horrible news. Two separate instances of friends finding out they have cancer and the other instance was about another special soul taken from this earth far too soon. Rarely do I get hit with three consecutive bits of bad news so quickly. It was a jolt, to say the least.

I know bad things happen. It seems often that they happen to the best people. But why? And why one person and not another? Only a higher power knows these answers. It makes me think about life. And what it means to actually live. It makes me think about attitude, perspective and the choice we have everyday to LIVE. It makes me realize that life is for NOW. That is really all there is….NOW. Yesterday is done. Tomorrow may never happen. So NOW is everything.

If you are lucky enough to be blessed today, why not acknowledge it? Why not celebrate? Why not thank your lucky stars? …Today! Tomorrow, I could be the one announcing some horrible news. I could be the one fighting cancer, God forbid. But today…I am healthy. I am loved. I am safe. I have joy in my life. I am living. Conversely, I know that if I am sad or in pain….it is just for now. It isn’t a permanent state of being.

I was thinking that I hadn’t learned this lesson from my upbringing….as my wonderful Mother lives mostly in the past or in the land of “if only.” (If only her kids lived closer. If only her husband was different. Etc.). But, maybe that is precisely WHY I believe so differently about life. I see very closely what can happen when you don’t acknowledge what you have. When you don’t say out loud what you are grateful for…everyday. When you let the bad news of life dull your NOW. Trust me, I am not minimizing depression. I understand first hand the effects it has on the depressed and their loved ones. I have great compassion for anyone afflicted with this dark disease.

I only hope, I can instill in my little O, a sense of gratitude and thankfulness. I believe you have to practice gratitude. Every night my husband and I list five things we are grateful for. It is a practice that has become habit and I love that. We will do the same with O when he is old enough. Hopefully he will carry that with him to help shape his perspective on life.

I am not saying happiness is as easy as counting your blessings. But it is certainly a common practice of happy people. So for now, I am going to count mine. I have so many. My most precious one is toddling around, squealing with joy and clapping his hands. He is also in need of a diaper change. Now.

Until next time, keep fighting the good fight. And remember, behind every great kid is a mom who is certain she is messing it up. Thanks for reading. Xo

Subtle Summer

It dawned on me the other day that it was almost August! Where is the summer going? I realized that I had yet to do anything “summery.” The days were marching on and I was not participating in the standard joys of the season. Who am I? Oh wait, I’m a mother of a one year old.

Our days have been consumed with our crazy move and making this new house our home. It’s all coming along, but far from finished. But if we don’t take some time to enjoy this beautiful summer it will be gone before we know it. I feel like I should rush out to play some mini golf or get some ice cream at a seasonal creamery. Or go to the beach. Or go sailing. But O is only one. He doesn’t do ice cream yet or mini golf. The beach is daunting on my own with the little guy not to mention the summer sun would fry his milky white skin. He’s napping twice a day lately so the window of time I get out of the house is small….And we don’t own a sailboat.

Past summers have been spent in the sunflower fields of Tuscany and on exotic Greek Island Beaches. I would get excited for the summer sales at Gucci in Rome and for walking through the Bazaar in Istanbul. I’d spend my days that happened to be stateside on a beach, reading, working out and getting far too tan for the likes of my fair skin. I’ve had all the glamour, excitement and travel a person should be allowed. My husband asked me the other day if I missed my old life. 🙂 Without pause, I said, “No.” And that’s the Gods honest truth. It’s not that it wasn’t great….it was. But this is just so much better. And I really believe you just don’t “get it” till it happens to you. Till your ready for it.

I find myself opening all the windows in our new home, feeling the warm breeze and listening to all the sounds of summer. I watch O practice his walking like an Olympic athlete. This kid is tenacious! I watch the clouds from the skylight in our beautiful great room. Light pouring in. It’s heavenly. It is my summer this year. And I realize, that it’s all right with me. Next year, O will be older and more ready for the beach. He will get excited for an ice cream cone and will have mastered the art of running, let alone walking. But for now, our summer is on the subtle side. A slower pace, if you like. I don’t mind it, surprisingly. But hold onto your hats, things are about to get crazy…When O wakes up from his nap we might go to the farm down the road to get some fresh vegetables and I think I’ll make my Mom’s raspberry pie. That always makes me feel like it’s summer.

Until next time, keep fighting the good fight! And remember, behind every great kid is a mom who is certain she is messing it up! Xo

Thoughts on the Bottle

I’ve been thinking a bit about the bottle lately. It seems like ever since O turned a year old, the pressure to get him off the bottle comes from all directions. Every parenting article I read tells me it’s time to give it up. Every well meaning relative, every Tom, Dick and Harry (every Tom, Harry or Dick) thinks once a child turns one we should take the bottle out of his hands. If I was nursing, would there be pressure to get my child off the boob at a year old? I’m interested to know.

Why is it that my baby went from infant to toddler in the span of a day? I mean, I know he’s not an infant anymore, but he hardly qualifies as a little boy yet. He’s still a baby for goodness sake. That bottle is a comfort for him before bedtime…and (here it goes) I still give him one early in he morning. That one is more for me, because O will sleep another two hours if he has a bottle. That’s time for me to shower, enjoy my coffee, and DO things. It’s GOLD! And really, I have to change his diaper after he sleeps through the night anyway. ( God knows, there is no room in it for his morning poop…it MUST be changed!)…so what’s the problem with a bottle and a cuddle? Is there something wrong with that?

He drinks pretty well with his sippy cup during the day…but only water. He won’t do “milk” in it at all. So the only milk he gets is before bed and in the early morning. So it’s not like I’m giving him too much. And why is my tone so defensive? Why is it SO important to get my son off the bottle so quickly? Why does society want my baby to grow up so fast? It seems to me that O lets me know when he is ready for things. I introduce things and in time he takes to them. I don’t push foods on him, but just keep introducing and re-introducing them. Sometimes the 7th time is the charm! I am digressing.

The point is, my boy has a lifetime to drink out of cups. I really don’t believe it is detrimental to him to have a bottle for another year. Maybe more. I don’t know. What I do know, is that I am in NO rush to have him do anything un-baby like. That time will be here before I know it. I don’t mind keeping him little for as long as I can. I’m sure someone out there thinks I am holding my child back or being a complete hover mommy. But the fact is, at least in O’s case, he eventually hits every milestone with joy and gusto….when he’s good and ready. I’ve learned now, not to stress over it. He’s gonna do everything he’s “supposed” to in his own time. Why push?

Well, friends, that’s my two cents for this week 🙂 Until next time, keep fighting the good fight, and remember…behind every great kid, is a mom who is sure she is messing it up.

Broke Back Mommy

I’m fried. Completely and utterly fried. After two weeks of below par sleep, moving house, packing and unpacking, cleaning like a fiend, commuting back and forth from the new house to my mother in law’s, where we are staying while the place gets painted and re carpeted (have I mentioned she is a saint?), not to mention hauling boxes and moving furniture….this chick is done. I am officially toast. I should do a commercial for Aleve. I’ve taken enough. Please don’t mistake what I say for actually being all moved in. Far far from it. I mean I am POOPED! My brain, my body….my BACK….toast. I know you should never say never…but I NEVER want to move again. Three times in a year…I don’t recommend it. Not to mention moving into a house that needs a LOT of tender love and care.

I say all of this not just to rant and complain. Although it feels good. I am letting you in on this morsel of physical pain I am experiencing so you might understand why I have nothing of any worth to say this week. Nothing. Forming a coherent sentence is a challenge. I can’t even see straight these days. I’ve been wearing my glasses, as I truly think my eyesight has deteriorated in just a matter of days from exhaustion. Can eyeballs hurt?

When I mentioned to my husband that it was Thursday and I didn’t have a post…..he said, “Well, you better get crackin.” I have many responses to that. A saccharin “Yes, Dear” was not one of them. But i knew he was right, damn it…..so I sat down and wrote this letter to you. If you are a faithful reader, I apologize. If you are new to my tales, insights and observations, I’ll say, “Tune in next week.” This Mommy needs a heating pad, 4 Aleve, and a Cabernet chaser. Every Mom needs a break every once in a while….if not more. My Mother in Law says, “This Too Shall Pass.” I am sure it will….. As does all pain. Oh poor me. We all should have such problems. Trust me, the pity party will be over next week. And that’s it. That’s all I’ve got. When you’ve exhausted yourself, take a break. Words to live by.

Until then, keep fighting the good fight and remember, behind every great kid is a Mom who is sure she is messing it up!

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