The Playground Series: Mr Blue Jacket

This post starts the series of stories based on my early morning drop offs with CP. Only he and his sister, H, will be identified in these stories. Any other children involved will be given nicknames.

CP talks about bullying and friendships quite a bit. He knows that there are times that he can be a better friend, at least in my mind. I forget details when he plays with the kids in his class. Like when he gets sillycrazy and tries to play fight. Other kids don’t like the play fighting, especially the girls. Bullies like to fight and tease other kids,right? This is my mindset, my “issue”. His understanding is muddled as he thinks he can play fight but he doesn’t like the teasing. I’m trying to use my words and put my 43 year old lady babble into verbage that doesn’t demean or do harm. I tend to screw this up a lot.

We are both working together on this “problem” on a daily basis. 

Do you want other kids to think you are a bully? 

 “No!”, he says. “I’m not a bully!” He tears up. I hug him and explain that I didn’t call him a bully. His giant tears are proof that I’ve gone too far with my questioning. I do that a lot. Maybe I’m the bully. 

As if on cue, Blue Jacket walks up to CP and asks if he wants to play tag, the normal activity before the first bell. CP holds me tight and I tell Blue Jacket to “please give him a minute”.  Blue Jacket asks why he is crying and CP barks at him. “None of your business!!”, he screams. Blue Jacket runs off to join the other kids. 

Honey. I know you are upset but you didn’t have to yell. 

“But Mom…Blue Jacket is a bully. I think so. My friend Wacky Gray thinks so. You think I’m a bully but Blue Jacket is a real bully. A really real bully.”

I don’t think you are a bully.

Man, I really stepped into this time. I continue to hug him tight as the first bell rings loud. Our conversation needs to continue later but first…

Listen to my words. I don’t think you are a bully. I think you are a loving child who can sometimes forget to stop and listen to your friends when they don’t always want to play how you play. 

He looks at me with those blue eyes, the ones that tug hard at my insides. I want to tell him that it’s not him but I’d be lying. It’s him, it’s them, it’s nature, nurture, peer interaction and learning how to be who you are deep down in your heart. 

I can listen, Mama. 

I know you can. 

Now it’s my turn to listen back.




This series will continue on with posts mid-week. If you have a playground story and want to share it, email me at


A Mother and her Shower


I dropped trou and step into the steamy goodness. The workout I just had was my first in several weeks. My look of lumpiness was hitting my ego with a baseball bat so I needed a boost. What I got was a reality check.

That first workout after missing in action is always the hardest but I did it…and this IS MY REWARD.

And also the losing some weight thing. But that’ll come later. 



silence. just me and this water and ugh, I need some serious ladyscaping…

No!! Back to…bliss. silence…


I have goddess hair. I am Lady Gaga on a white horse *whips wet hair across face*

Lady Gaga is way more graceful. BUT ENOUGH OF THAT!! This is my time. *lather scrub lather* aaaaaa…eucalyptus and spearmint. Bath & Body Works, you are my muse….SUGAR!!!

I smell like mint and herbal awesomeness. All the sweat and toil of that 25 minute…okay, 10 minute workout, is just fading awa….   


So much for my time….


Maybe she doesn’t hear me…as water jets down on the tile….



I love you!!!

..awww…looks like I just caught another kind of shower….puffy hearts everywhere…


…Right after I tame the wild Winter Chewbecca that’s gotten out of control….

Come to mama…..

The mind wanders when you take a shower. Your worries become strong demons that you need slay. Being in the shower make it easy to slay demons. Demons hate water. Remember the Wicked Witch? Water was not her friend. I can use my back scrubber to slay my demons. 

No steady job?!? SWISH!

Getting a bit lumpy around the middle?! CLANK!!

LEAVE ME, DAMNED DEMON!! I have armpits to make smooth and supple like the girls in the Dove commercials!! 

Where was I?



I really should buy the edited versions of these songs so I don’t feel like a mama failure when my daughter sings “LOVE ME LIKE YOU DO” from the 50 shades of grey soundtrack. 


oh man… I’m a shitty mama. 

Okay. I’m probably clean enou…



I’m firsty!!

It’s funny how she still can’t say thirsty. Okay, I’m done here. No random hairs. My mane smells of rosemary. My skin smells of spearmint. My body could be rung into a salad. 

….That’s an odd think to say…

Until next time, sweet shower. The girl is super “firsty”.


6 Signs That You Are Ready To Be a Kindergarten Parent

She’s four. She’s been watching her big brother line up in front of his classroom for two years now. She’s ready. She’s been ready. She’s chomping at the bit, spending her days carrying a backpack around the house to prepare herself for lining up in front of her own classroom. There are books she can read, she writes her name and a few other words without help, and she begs to stay and volunteer in her brother’s classroom. Begs. 

But are you ready? Are you prepared for that detachment? Your days will shift away from playing with toys and lunchtime picnics to empty time. Shopping adventures, days at the park. Then suddenly she’s not here. My daytime buddy is gone all day long. All day long!!  How will you cope?? How will you know you can withstand those hours away from your little angel?

There are ways to tell if you are prepared for this parent/child detachment. Here are a few: 


1).  You can hold your chin up high as you are proud of your child. Warning: This may coincide with weeping in public and wandering around the toy aisle looking for children to talk to. It’s okay to say “hi” to that kid who is on repeat asking their parent for a toy but you earn bonus points if you don’t offer to buy them one. Just back away. Most stores have cameras.  

2). You can get your laundry done with no distractions. Remember how cute it was when little Margie tried to fold the pants and sat in the laundry basket with her muddy shoes? How on some days you would curse the heavens because it took forever to switch from washed to dry thanks to your adorable little one. Ah…Good times. 

3). The meal in front of you is hot and you are so jazzed to enjoy a warm meal. Under normal circumstances, a little hand would be grabbing at your soup and stealing your carrots. Now there is no food thief around and that suits you just fine. Also, re-microwaving the same food 12 times gets old real fast. 

4) You can read a book without feeling any guilt. No, seriously. Join a book club. You can do this now. Books. They are like movies but take longer and are sometimes more fulfilling. Also, you can go see movies without characters who live in pineapples under the sea. Just imagine. 

5). You can make an uninterrupted phone call and it gets you super excited. Not really much more that I can say about this. A phone call without having to press mute every three seconds due to little voices begging for juice or to go potty or ANYTHING ELSE is like the hot fudge on an ice cream cone. Total bliss. 

6). You realize that having a few hours to yourself to start things, finish things or simply just do things is pretty freaking awesome. There’s a word for those people that have kids that you see alone in a Starbucks sipping coffee or a Target or Home Depot with DIY books. FREE. If only for a little while. They are free. So free. Free free free freedom. 

You know deep down that this is best for you both. Forget the fact that she is your last baby. Nevermind that you finally updated her baby book with nursery photos. She is so damn ready and you are so damn gonna let her go. So, head to Target and stock up on pencils and Crayolas. It’s just kindergarten. You got this. 

Besides, it’s not like she’s heading to college. 

You so could NOT handle college right now. 




Because You Need More Books About Olaf.

I love books and I’m sure you do as well. Especially now that my youngest is starting Kindergarten and she’s so in love with all the Disney characters. She needs more books.

So, I jumped at the chance to offer these Disney books for your children at a crazy low price. No need to head to a book store or run to Amazon. Click the link and grab 4 books for .99 cents plus free shipping.

Once you order, you receive new books each month but YOU CAN CANCEL ONLINE AT ANYTIME!!

Choose stories from Cinderella… Peter Pan… The Jungle Book… Sleeping Beauty… The Little Mermaid… Now, you can share these timeless classic Disney stories with your own children in beautiful hardcover editions, illustrated by the Disney artists themselves. And also encourage them to read with all-new Disney Classics like Bolt and The Princess and the Frog and Disney•Pixar Classics like Finding Nemo, Cars, WALL•E, Toy Story, Up and more.

I’ll be giving my daughter a brand new supply of reading material. Wouldn’t your child love a set of new books to read and cherish? Join me and get your books now!


Coming Home

Time has past since I entered this house. I can hear his words in the walls as I float from room to room. Frames with his smiling face are everywhere. “Welcome back, baby”, says his voice in my head. He never left here. He’ll never leave this place, not as long as my mom is still alive.  

 We agreed that spending my son’s spring break from school at Grandma’s was a way to get a good amount of visit in. Normally, we would drive up and have a weekend turn around. No, a week is better. More time. More. Time.  

 I step into the family area where I saw him alive for the last time. “I’m scared.”, he said that day. I shrugged it off. “It’s a simple procedure.”, I said. I saw how scared he was and I did nothing. I didn’t even go with my mom to take him to the hospital. It would be his 7th attempt to fix his knee surgery and infection issue. 7th attempt. I was foolish and am ashamed for not recognizing that he knew something in his heart that I didn’t see. Being his daughter I should’ve seen it, felt it. What the hell? I was obviously blind that day. What other things that I missed? 

 I can see my slow breathing as I shuffle from ajar door to closed door. I open the past with each turn of the knob. Breathing in his memories and moments. All the emotion floods my eyes. Coping is not an option. I still feel him here and it kills me. My heart and head die a little with each passing minute. Two years has not been enough time to grieve the death of my father. I know this now. I knew it all along, really. I stupidly believed that it was going to be okay. I’m not fucking okay. I’m a fool. 

 There are things that take over when you stand in your parent’s house. Guilt. Maybe envy. Reluctance. Hurt. What is the word when you feel your heart smash apart all over again? That’s right. Broken.  

Two years later and I’m still tender and broken.  

I continue to wander throughout the house with a brave heart and my poker face. Don’t let them see your hand. A blood red King. A Queen wearing black. And a Joker. A little selfish fool.  

One day, it’ll be easier to roam through my parent’s home and not hurt from what could’ve been said or done. One day I’ll feel him without the guilt of stopping the surgery that took his life. One day I’ll see that it wasn’t my fault for not doing or not listening to him. Someday, I’ll see that it would’ve happened despite the surgery or his torn up knee or his smoking or weight gain and loss.  One day. Someday.  

I will be able to come home to him.