How you like them apples

I truly believe empathy is the key to everything. People think they have it but they are often so, so wrong. For example, this one woman I overheard today at Starbucks. I was with my daughter and because there were no seats I ended up sharing a table with three women. One woman was monopolizing much of the conversation and I overheard her talking about these annoying friends of her daughters who overstayed their welcome and would eat her food. I don’t know the whole back story about these kids or their parents but what got me was her reaction to the kids. She complained about having to give them snacks and how now she has to buy a bag of “crappy apples” because she didn’t want them to eat her expensive honey crisps. Then she went on to say that sometimes she would prepare lunch for her girls and in a effort to “shoo the kids away” and how she was pissed if they would ask to stay. The woman then said, “I guess I felt bad or something, so I would make them a peanut butter sandwich but there was no way I would give them my expensive lunch meat. I am going to start buying a thing of Jiff for just when they come over.”

I was horrified. This woman in her lulu lemons, drinking her expensive Starbucks latte was complaining about feeding children?! Then she went on to say that she wants to teach a kindness class in her daughters class. HUH?! Maybe TAKE a kindness class first. Jeez.

To be honest this struck a cord because I was that neighborhood kid. I relied on my neighbors to help me because my parents (who worked hard and are wonderful) sometimes couldn’t. It breaks my heart to think people would see me in this light; an annoyance who didn’t deserve the good peanut butter.

So to the good people of the world who help the wayward neighborhood kids; Thank You. Your love and kindness means the world. Truly. I am so proud and so lucky to have grown up in a community that cared and I promise that if there is ever a time a kid needs a meal or some extra love and attention; I’ll be there and not with the ‘crappy apples’.

Precious Moments

Augie: “Mom, who’s older you or Grandma?”  1st insult.

Me: “Grandma is older than me.” (By like 30 years ya jerk)

Augie immediately starts crying and says “Does this mean she’ll die before you?”

Me: “It’s probable but I could always get hit by a bus or something.”


Me: “You don’t want me to get hit by a bus, right?”

Augie: “I just really love grandma.”



My date with Joe Biden.

So I got my husband tickets and a meet & greet to see Joe Biden. It was WAY more then I ever spend but I really thought it was a once-in-a-lifetime thing.

Well I was wrong. The idea of having awkward/forced conversation felt too weird for Deb’s and he asked if I would go in his place. WHICH OF COURSE I WOULD. I love Joe Biden and forcing people to take pictures with me.

The days leading up to what became (in my head) my date with Joe Biden were good.  Until the night before the event I woke up with life changing…….hemorrhoids. Like could barely walk hemorrhoids. Now I had to meet the former Vice president smelling like preparation H and cheap white wine.

The night comes and my husband drops me off like a teenager going to her first concert and I immediately feel out of place because everyone is clearly a very serious person and a very rich person. These are people clearly without hemorrhoids and with dates. I quickly text Devin to decide when I can start yelling, “You’re not better then me.”

I decide against yelling anything and patiently wait to meet Joe Biden and honestly it was just as awkward as I hoped it would be. He calls me a ‘pretty young lady’ and I yell/ talked about how I ‘stole’ my hands tickets and thanked him for his service. I’m mindful not to bring up my hemorrhoids as a sign of respect but also fearful because I basically have Tourettes around people I admire. Luckily I get through it without barfing out anything too stupid and get a weirdo picture with me clearly in love and pretending to be on date.

So after the meet and greet I meet husband for a drink and plan to return to the show when the talk begins. I do not do that. Instead I show up 20 minutes late, sitting front row and basically interrupt Tom Brokaw talking about his cancer diagnosis. They give a fantastic interview about life, cancer, politics, and how we move forward. Really interesting and profound stuff. I am totally moved by everything he’s saying and when he says something particularly poignant about immigration (and also because I TOTALLY forget where I am) I do my Wheezy “YEAHHHHH!” yell…loudly and proudly.

I blame the hemorrhoids and the third glass of wine. Tom Brokaw actually made eye contact with me as I am sure he has never heard that yell before.

Everyone else avoided eye contact with me the rest of the night.

So the talk ends and I get my broken butt up and as I’m walking out who walks by me but JOE FREAKIN KENNEDY and all these dumbos in line are just going to pretend a hot ginger Kennedy isn’t RIGHT THERE. So as if I haven’t really owned the night enough I yell, “Hey Joe Kennedy! I see you!”

That was my date with Joe Biden and kind of Joe Kennedy. I regret nothing.

Also here are my pictures from the night and some of my favorite texts.




The Grinch.

Let me start by saying; I LOVE CHRISTMAS. I love the traditions and the gift giving and gift receiving. I love watching my kids open presents. I enjoy the magic of Santa and the food and family gatherings and christmas parties. ALL. OF. IT. Yet I’m starting of feel sad about the excessive present giving. It feels almost like an addiction. Something that people search and hunt for and spend money on and time on. Looking for bigger and better deals. Pushing people in line and treating gift buying like a competitive sport rather then a time to reflect on the person you love and a way to show them a token of how much they mean to you.

Black Friday. Cyber Monday. All these deals. It has gotten wayyyy out of hand. People seems to think they will solve all their problems by saving $3.99 on a toy not one really wants or needs. All the consumerism and deal grabbing just feels gross. So much time and energy go into trying to save money on these things that the true meaning of christmas is lost.

I get that giving presents is a way to show love and people feel if they buy more presents they are showing more love and they can buy more presents if they get better deals.

The older I get the more I understand the Grinch, “Maybe he thought, christmas doesn’t come from a store, maybe he thought christmas is a little bit more.”

I want my kids to understand that showing love isn’t about how much you have but how much you give. I want them to understand that true happiness isn’t about what you get and how much you get. It’s about how much love and tenderness you have shown to other people in your life.

Presents are great way to show love but they shouldn’t be mindless empty presents that you bought because there was a sick deal. It should be a way to show appreciation and thoughtfulness for a person.

My mom always jokes that in her house “it’s quantity over quality” and she is a very generous and loving person. With that said Christmas basically becomes her olympics. She trains for it all year long. There are hundreds and hundreds of presents.  It’s insanity and even though I know it’s done with love, I worry that it’s not teaching my kids to love and appreciate what they have.

I know that it will be my job to show my kids that getting a lot of presents is fun but the real reason their grandma is so christmas crazy and because she loves to give & I hope the take away is that they grow up to become givers to and see the joy in giving and doing for others.

Christmas, grinch, cplusmom, humbug, parenting,



Starbucks rage.

For a person who typically doesn’t have a place to be & with time to burn I am awfully rage(y) when someone doesn’t know what they want when ordering at Starbucks. Unless you are Akeem from Coming To America, you better know what you want and how a Starbucks works. Don’t ask questions about what’s in the muffins or how likely the South American beans are to make you fart…..because we all already know it’s a lot. If your someone who waits till the last minute to decide your order; YOU ARE A HEAVY COFFEE BEAN FARTER. There are no doubts.

Also, you ALWAYS have 5-7 minutes to not make eye contact and decide your order. That’s the time you process what size cup you want and how much whip cream to put in it. I oscillate from deep sympathy for the barista who has to listen to someone’s personal feelings about heavy cream to blind rage when they engage them in a 10 minute conversation about it. I’m sure there is some training class at Starbucks university about how not feel 20-30 people’s death glares when answering some buttheads questions.

Also, I’ve been to Starbucks 10,000 times and still have no idea how to translate small, medium and large (I’m not proud, my brain just refuses to learn those words, I think it feels a loyalty to Dunkin Doughnuts) and you know what you can just say, small, medium or large. It all works out. No need for extra conversation.

My Starbucks rage was also increased this week because a Barista said to Anna (my 3y/o): “Is that your hair or did you just wake up?”

Umm… we woke up a long time ago, bitch. That’s just her hair.

Still I’ll always love Starbucks mostly because it goes so perfectly with a Target.






How to survive a Thunder from Down Under show alone.

I’m fairly certain seeing Thunder from Down Under three times doesn’t officially make me an old lady pervert but tell that to the lady across from me who witnessed me sitting ALONE in the front row.

Sooo this how my life took so many wrong turns that I ended up there. Two girlfriends & I saw Thunder a few years ago in Vegas and it was magical. Such a fun show! Watching hot men dry hump horny old ladies to 90’s R&B is honestly hard not to love. So after our trip my friend got so excited about keeping the Vegas spirit alive she bought three tickets to Thunder, closest she could get to stage but here’s the kicker; NOT. SITTING. TOGETHER.

Now I am not one to run away from awkward situations. I’m like a awkward situation first responder, I run to that burning building. Like “Yes crazy aunt tell me more about your weird butt rash but say it louder because I’m not sure the people at the next table could hear us.” I. AM. HERE. FOR. THIS. I was once at party at swanky bar in Boston and a very drunk woman in a full bunny costume (and not like a playboy bunny like a mall Easter bunny costume) fell into our party. Literally just fell. Everyone else seemed annoyed and walked/looked away but not me, mid-sentence I left a conversation to go talk to this inebriated bunny/woman. It’s a good thing I did because as I was talking to her my guy friend came up and she said, “You’re so hot, I would [insert very graphic sexual act].” Now I am not a prude but consider my pearls clutched. I still can’t even write what she said. Neither my friend nor I knew what to say, so we stood there in silence. Lady/Bunny broke the silence by saying that she’s a lawyer in DC and makes over $200,000 a year. Which I think she said in a effort to help her look more stable. It did not.  She was then promptly whisked away by her friend, leaving me and friend still in total and complete silence.

I digress…but my point is that when friend told me she had a single front row seat at a Thunder from Down Under show, I was IN. I would take the weirdo seat and was anxiously awaiting the looks on people’s faces when they saw I was alone, front row at a male semi-nude variety show.

So as the show approaches my friend (THE ONE WHO BOUGHT THE TICKETS) can’t go. So we have to find a replacement which isn’t exactly an easy sell. At the time I was thinking that two seats were together and one was the weirdo seat. So I get my sweet, sort of shy, sober friend to go with us. We meet for dinner and it’s revealed that there are in fact NOT two seats together but all three are separate. In fairness to my other friend, I texted her and told her I would take the “lonely” seat and she text back that they were all lonely seats but I just thought she meant metaphorically not physically. Sober friend was HORRIFIED, she doesn’t even have the luxury of a some liquid courage to get her through this. She has to go sit, alone, sober and watch a bunch of almost nude men do some air dry-humping. I tried to comfort her by saying they are really good seats but she wanted none of it.

So we get to the show, I have decided that this opportunity would never (hopefully) happen to me again, so I need to carpe diem and not explain the situation to the people around me. I am ready. I am going to run into this burning building of awkwardness like the hero I am.

Only I can’t. It’s so much harder than I thought. The first group of woman, I try, but the looks are too hard and it’s too weird. I break down and explain that I have friends here and tell the whole story.

I knew I had to do better the next time, so when the women sitting across from me come to their seats and they ask who I’m here with and I say no one. Just me. One woman could not hide her discomfort. She said something like, “Good for you!” in a voice way higher then it should be. It looked like I had just told her I was not only going to prom alone but not before I planned an elaborate prom proposal for myself.

She promptly stopped talking to me.

In a weird twist of fate the two seats next me were empty for the show, so I was actually able to sit with my sweet sober friend as I guzzled wine and sexually harassed men. My friend ended up being a really good sport about it and we ended up having a really good time though she did mention that she wanted to murder me at least 12 hundred times.

I was really proud of my friend for rolling with these very weird punches. She could have sulked in her seat or left but she didn’t & we were able to have a very fun, amazing night because of it.

So it was a nice reminder for me: don’t let the circumstance dictate the times, sometimes if you just run into the fear and discomfort, you might actually have a really good time and at the very least you’ll have a really good story.

Funny Awkward Sober



Why doesn’t it matter?

Another day, another shooting. So many lives lost. Yet nothing will change. These guns that shoot masses of people in seconds won’t be taken away.

I can’t wrap my head around it.

I’m in a moms group with a woman who’s husband was shot in the San Bernardino shooting. It was heartbreaking to see her post that there was a shooting and she’s hoping her husband was ok and he wasn’t. He was dead. And now it’s heartbreaking to see her have to navigate life as a widow.

Yet no one is willing to talk about real solutions. Everyone has on their republican or democrat hat and with those hats on no real solutions can be discussed. It’s so sad that people let their political identity dictate their common sense. Taking away guns that kill masses of people in a second can only be good for public safety. There is no rational argument against it.

That said, here’s the argument I hear: Cars kill people, do we take away cars? Or knives? I understand the argument but here is my response; the method matters. People choose guns because they are glamorized in our country. They make people feel powerful and as long a they are readily  available people will use them to kill masses of innocent people.

I remember reading an article about suicide and when Great Britain converted from coal gas to natural gas (making harder to kill your self by sticking your head in the oven), suicides dropped by 30 percent (and has stayed down 30 percent for over 30 years). Once a quick and easy way to kill people (themselves) was taken away, they didn’t do it. Guns matter because they are so important to the method. They matter because the easier you make it for people to kill people, the easier they will do it.

I worked with people with mental illness for a long time. One of the tasks I would have to do was administer medications for clients who had suicidal histories. I had one client who I adored: she was funny and smart and also deeply depressed. For years we administered her medication and I never fully got it. I kept thinking she could just go to the store and buy tylenol if she really wanted to overdose. Years passed we stopped administering her medication and she overdosed on her medications. It was the method. She was fixated on the method.

I’ve also heard people say, “evil people will do evil things.” That maybe true but we don’t have to supply them the ammunition. We don’t have to make it so easy for them. I mean we are suppose to try to fight evil, right? Not give them weapons of mass destruction.

Will taking away guns get rid of all violence. Of course not. Will it protect some innocent people from dying. WITH OUT A FUCKING DOUBT.

So I am trying to be kind and ‘look for the helpers’ and believe that there is a higher purpose in all this sadness but honestly I am struggling because I feel like greed is winning. The NRA is winning. They are buying our government, our congressmen and woman and they do not give a single fuck about public safety. About the lives that are dying at the hands of their profitable weapons.

It should be noted that I grew up in a house with guns. My parents were responsible gun owners. Do I think that my step fathers hobby of going to a shooting range trumps my kids getting shot in the head at concert or church. No. But if people want their guns. Fine. They don’t get to have weapons of mass destruction. They don’t get to have weapons that kill hundreds of people at a far range because it simply DOESN’T MAKE SENSE.

Sending so much love to these victims and their families and friends.

Gentle reminder to not be a dick

Last week I was in daze, a category 5 hurricane hit the island of St. John and I couldn’t get in touch with my dad. I had not idea if he was alive, had food or water, a house, how his friends faired and I also didn’t know how to help. Everything was unsettled and scary. Yet my kids still had to go school. Groceries had to be bought. My son had his 5th birthday.

Life happens whether you’re in the mood for it or not.

Everything turned out to be okay for my dad but this was a gentle reminder that you never know what someone is going through: their marriage could be falling apart, they could have a sick parent, be struggling with an illness you can’t see. For me it felt so strange to be doing mundane life tasks with these ever looping thoughts about how my dad is doing racing through my brain. Making small talk at school pick up felt like a huge feat. Not crying when someone asked how my day was at the checkout line was even harder. Everything felt bigger and harder then it actually was.

I also get that people have been through worse. People have actually lost their parents. People who suffer with depression or mental illness may feel like this a lot of the time. It’s a hard place to be but we will all be in these situations from time to time. I don’t really have any words of wisdom except to be kind. To everyone. As much as possible. You never know what their going through and we’re all going to go through some shit. When my life is fine, I just assume everyone else’s is. I forget that the universe doesn’t hand out ‘oh fuck’ cards at the same time. So if someone is short or seems distant, cut them a break, they could be going through something you don’t know about.

Also, remember the acts of kindness that were given to you in your moments. I had so many people reach out and try to help put me in touch with my dad. People I didn’t even know. So many people donated to St. John Rescue fund. There are good people and great acts of kindness in these moments. As that sweet piece of ass Mr. Rogers said so beautifully, “Look for helpers”. They are there.

Giving is Living

I recently saw someone on Facebook complaining about all the ‘free stuff’ the Hurricane Harvey people were getting & that they didn’t deserve it because they were idiots that didn’t evacuate fast enough.

Of course my first reaction was blind rage. These people have just lost their homes, their safety, a sense of security and smaller things like family photos but what this person was upset about was that people were sending money or supplies to help. The insanity of that is UNREAL.

The lack of empathy, compassion and basic humanity is so maddening. That a natural disaster can cause people’s first reaction to be “Yeah but what are they taking from me.” “They don’t deserve it”  and that somehow giving & helping become the enemy.

I’m honestly trying understand the mindset of this person and people who think like her (because believe it or not there were other people who AGREED WITH HER on Facebook. IN PUBLIC).

I want to understand people who are upset about people giving whether it be in wake of a natural disaster or welfare or even immigration.

My best guess is that there are three core beliefs that stop someone from giving:  1) Don’t take what is mine 2) A belief that there is not enough for everyone 3) I’m better than them.

‘Don’t take what is mine’ mentality is HUGE. It’s part of our reptilian brain. People believe that they are entitled to whatever they “earned” or just happen to end up with. Instead of viewing themselves as lucky (lucky to have a good paying job or lucky to grow up in the richest country in the world) and wanting to give back they become hoarders of their good fortune. They see themselves as entitled and they don’t have to share it because the other person didn’t ‘earn’ theirs. But none of us earned being born in the United States, we happened into it. It was not a choice we made but a circumstance we encountered and we should be grateful that we were lucky enough to be born here. We did nothing to earn it. We are a country built on immigrants and the fact that people are looking down on them is infuriating. We are them. Just a few generations ahead.

People who don’t give are also afraid. Afraid there isn’t enough. They live in fear instead of love. People who are afraid of giving aren’t happy people. It shows so strongly. They are bitter and scared and living a life of fear. Hoarding and thinking only about yourself and your family is not going to make the world a better a place and on your death bed will not make you feel like you lived a life you can be proud of.

Studies have shown that feeling connected to people and community is the best way to ensure a happy life. People get married to this idea that helping is taking away from their own self or their own stash when in fact it’s helping them create a more meaningful life. When people give it makes them feel better. Helping and giving are the best ways to feel connected to people and humanity and helps perpetuates the idea of “Treat people the way you want to be treated” If a natural disaster strikes do want people to give and help or do want people to call you an idiot for not evacuating fast enough. The choice (and Karma) is yours.

People also look for arbitrary reasons why they are “better” than others. Better schooling, more money, less money, where they grew up, what kind of clothes or shoes they do or don’t have.  If you hold tight to the idea you are ‘better’ than people for whatever reason: you are insecure person. This girl thought she was better then the poor people in Houston because she thinks she would have evacuated quicker. It’s doesn’t show how dumb the people of Houston were but how dumb (and mean) this girl is.

Luckily these people are the exception and not the rule. I am always so proud and impressed with the great acts of kindness and humanity people show in times of tragedy and I strongly believe that most people are good people.

I also strongly believe that life is not about how much you have but about how much you give.

Giving, self care, love, self love,