Eight Things to Do On Valentine’s Day When You’re Single

You don’t have to be lonely on Valentine’s Day even if you’re single. I promise this day can be lot’s of fun! Like many of you – I have mixed feelings about this “holiday.” (See The Love / Hate Day ) But I embrace any excuse to celebrate – and LOVE is something totally worth the attention!

BUT… I do really, really think we should expand the definition of love – even as it relates to February 14th! I know – who am I to discuss this when I have a wonderful hubby – but that doesn’t mean every valentine’s day holiday was perfect for me – or that it’s always the best day for my friends.

So here are some thoughts on how to make this holiday rock – even (or maybe especially!) when you’re single. Continue reading

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Goodbye 2014. Hello Crazy Life.

I love the Holidays! And I really, really love the “after the Holidays!” There’s something very precious and sweet to me about returning to routine… switching the year on the calendar and moving forward.

Or… maybe I’m just happy to have some “normal” back… and put away all the chaos! Oh but I do so love the chaos! For a bit at least!

If you happened to catch the Instagram video I posted of “worlds most precious toddler” having a Christmas Day melt down you understand what I mean. 🙂

We aren’t the biggest on making New Years Resolutions around here. I know many who love it – that’s awesome! Go for it!

We are more along the lines of making “themes” for the year. Choosing things to focus on for the coming year – both collectively as a family and independently as individuals.  This is something I really adore doing.

But sometimes to move forward – you have to be willing to leave behind some things. That can be a very hard concept for me. Our family event done on New Years Eve is one of my most favorite traditions. Continue reading

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Running Lies And Other Accidental Competitions

I have a reoccurring nightmare. I’m running a marathon. (ha! Imagine mE running a marathon! And for the record – if you ever do indeed see me running you better join me because I’m pretty sure it must be something awful chasing me!).

So – the horrible part isn’t the running (can you believe that?!) the really terrible part is that somewhere around the “Mile Three” marker I spot a group of cheerleaders. They are yelling and waving signs – and I think this is a good thing. Then I get close enough to actually see and hear what they are saying… and rather than words of encouragement it’s stuff like “This should be easy – I don’t know why you’re breathing hard” and “You’ve got SO much further to go! What’s wrong with you?” and “Look how beautifully I just ran in my homemade organic sandals” and “See my adoring husband waiting at the finish line with roses and chocolate?” and “Oh my angelic children ran so much faster than you ever could!” and my favorite (not), “You must be doing something wrong for this simple race to be so tough!”

In general – we do not like pain. And usually that is a very good thing. It keeps us safe from say… walking out in front of a train just for the experience of it. We think, “No. That will hurt.” So we don’t do it.

Sometimes pain is just a state of overcoming something. (I’m very tempted to quote the 1990’s slogan, “pain is just weakness leaving your body” but I’m much to advanced to rely on old school tactics so I would never ever even type that… 😉  But of course – it’s true. Sometimes pain is good for us.

And maybe, sometimes, pain is a test. I’m not real sure about this one – but I’ll go along with that it could be true.

And at times pain can be a sign of doing something wrong. Like… holding a 400 degree pot with your bare hands – so there is a lesson there.



Life is just hard! And despite what you might feel like after hours of looking at your friends Instagram feed or Facebook posts – sometimes it just sucks.

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The Prostate Debate of 2014

So… I was having symptoms of a UTI. Think that’s TMI? Just hang on!  😉

After a few days of home remedies with no improvement I made the appropriate doc appointment for ridiculously early the next morning.

As is custom, upon arrival, you check in at the desk, you wait your turn, you leave a sample and you sit in the back room while the nurse asks, “Why are you here today?”

nurse with file

So I begin to answer – attempting to explain my concerns – but not seeming to reach her…

She keeps repeating similar questions about “frequency” or “urgency”…

In an attempt to lighten an awkward moment (dammit! I know better than to try that! It never ever works for me!) Bravely (uhhh stupidly!) I press on.

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Sticky Labels and Bruises

I love bargain shopping. I’m actually – probably – a tiny bit (LIKE TOTALLY) obsessed with it. If I’m being honest ya know.

One thing I really dislike tho – is getting home and having “clearance” stickers stuck to all my pretty new things. I really hate that! It spoils the fun to have the item itself shout “I got this for a nickel!” That’s what I like to say!


stranger: I love your fancy designer handbag!
me: Thank you dahling! I got it on clearance at goodwill.
Marcus: Do you have to tell everybody that story?!
me: Yep! It’s soooo fun!

But when you can’t get those pesky labels off it’s very annoying. And some of them stick shockingly well! I mean I totally have labels that won’t budge despite being soaked in hot water, scrubbed with sharp objects and screamed at!

There are things I own that were built to stay together that have nothing close to the tenacity of those stinky labels!

labels: awesome, wise, stupid, ugly, cool

Ahh. Isn’t that how it is in life too?

You’re young. An adult says something. And it wraps itself in all it’s sticky glory around your heart. And even good labels can limit you.

Of course the bad ones – duh – are devastating! The “she’s not very bright” or”he’s really clumsy” or the terrible ones children tend to put on other children.

But the truth is, even the “good” labels can wreck havoc.

Hear “She’s the pretty one” enough times and your identity becomes intertwined with the ability to maintain your looks. “He’s the athlete” causes great angst when agility is not required and he didn’t in fact, make the college team so – what is his value now? And so on…

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Taco Bell and Emotional Incontinence

So. The girls in our family are leaky. Hum. That sounds gross… we are “Emotionally Incontinent“… that’s more sophisticated stupid sounding, right? Okay – we cry easily!

If you cry in front of me, I will probably join you. If I see something sweet, or sad or a myriad of other things – my eyes fill with tears. It just happens! And, my girls are just like me. This has led to more than a few embarrassing moments I will spare you… Okay except one:

Warning: Side Rant!
You know that really dumb song about shoes and dying momma’s they play every year at Christmas time? Well, I really really hate that song! (And I try to save the word “hate” for very rare occasions!) The concept is utterly ridiculous. It is clearly a manipulation of emotions. It’s made a bazillion dollars for the writer – all while being a totally goofy idea! BUT! It makes me cry every time I hear it!
So this makes me more than a little annoyed! – And it also assures the kids make sure to play it loudly as often as they can!  

Rant over!

In addition to being “easy to weep” we also do it very woman crying the ugly cry
unattractively. The famous “ugly cry” complete with snot and, thanks to our pasty white skin, bright red nose, swollen eyes and probably (which means most defiantly) lots of snorting. Sorry girls!

So, my daughter was driving me through Taco Bell to pick up some dinner for her brother. Classy I know. 🙂

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To all the Dads I’ve Loved Before…

I’ve had the amazing joy of knowing many wonderful fathers. Men who step up to share their love, time and experience with others. The world is better because of you. Today I’d like to take a moment to honor a few men who changed my life.

To my dad, thank you for being the first man I loved and for teaching me that girls can be smart. I love you! For all the dads who love and encourage their children to embrace their gifts and follow their passion – Thank you.

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