Parking Lot Confessional

Apr 29, 2015 by

It’s 5:30pm and I just braved at least 30 minutes of the world’s most frustrating traffic before stopping to pick up my daughter at school. I still have a significant drive home with a planned stop at the grocery store. I’ve been up since 4:45am and am pretty sure that loading her into the car and breaking the news that we have to swing by Stop & Shop is not going to go over well. We’re rapidly closing in on age 4 and her ‘tude has been full force. And my patience just ain’t what it used to be.

So, walking back to our car in the parking lot from the school, holding hands with me and full of chatter, CP and I run into one of my daughter’s classmates and good buddies. I’ve spoken with the little girl’s mom, let’s call her Em, at school birthday parties and a couple of school functions. I’ve seen her struggle with her daughter during pickup, sharing an empathetic look and pretending to not notice her frustration.

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I’m Not a Robot

Apr 20, 2015 by

I’ve been listening to music pretty much every day on my walks or runs and I’ve found that I keep hitting repeat, over and over, on the song I Am Not a Robot by Marina and the Diamonds. I’ve been going through a lot of change in my life as my husband and I continue the divorce process and something about this song just hits me every time I listen to it.

It’s okay to say you’ve got a weak spot
You don’t always have to be on top

I have a hard time with negative emotions. I don’t like feeling angry or resentful because those emotions only make me feel worse and really impact my ability to feel inner peace. I believe in my soul that being compassionate and kind are two of the most important values in life.  So, it’s tough for me to admit that during this process of getting divorced I’ve had times when I’ve let my anger overshadow my desire to be compassionate. But I do have a weak spot, many weak spots in fact, and I don’t always have to be perfect. Divorce is always difficult for everyone involved so I’m trying to cut myself some slack.

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The Little Things that Become the Big Things

Apr 15, 2015 by

Inspirational Internet Meme says:  “Appreciate the Little Things”

I say:  “I have been up since 3:18am with a baby who’s been sick on and off (but more on) for six months.  I am too freakin’ TIRED to appreciate anything.  I have laundry piled to the ceiling, a to-do list five pages long and I just found three-day old macaroni and cheese stuck to my floor at the same time I noticed I’m out of paper towels.  I don’t have TIME to appreciate the little things.”


This morning as I was downing my third cup of coffee, questioning if I put on deodorant, I came across an article about a Florida woman who wrote her own obituary and at the end she wrote: “I was born; I blinked; and it was over.” 


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How To Tell If Your Kids Are Lying?

Feb 23, 2015 by

A rare (and posed) sight

A rare (and posed) sight

My kids have gotten into this great groove playing together. They have been known to disappear into one of their bedrooms, close the door and play alone for a good amount of time. Sometimes I hear that tell tale screeching that tells me the older one is doing something the younger one does not like at all. I know I’m in trouble when I see them walking away quickly and I hear my four year old say quietly to my two year old, “You’re right, that’s a great idea, let’s go do that!” I usually let them run with whatever they’re planning. It often involves building things or playing some sort of pretend. These kids have great imaginations and haven’t done anything irreversible yet. I now the drawing on walls, furniture or carpet or an unexpected haircut might come some day.

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My Postpartum Depression Story – Emerging on the Other Side

Jan 28, 2015 by

It’s been almost four years since that June morning and I am no longer depressed.  I have a second son now and didn’t have postpartum depression with him.  I have since bonded with and love both of my boys more than anything in my life.  My bond is strong and secure with my sons. 


I am happy.


My sons are happy.


So when did my PPD go away?  I’m not exactly sure.  I suppose it gradually got better with time and antidepressants.  By my son’s first birthday I guess I felt “better” or at least better adjusted.  By this, I mean I looked forward to spending time with him, I felt a connection with him, and that “mother/son” bond had been formed.  I was able to sleep again, and I wasn’t constantly obsessed with thoughts and worries.  I (somewhat) came to terms with the fact that I will never again feel the kind of “normal” I did pre-children and this was my new normal.

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