(Quick)True Story: I’m Not Really Sure How They’ll Turn Out In The End, To Be Honest.

The other day we took a day trip over to Seattle, proper.  We don’t live in Seattle, proper. We live a boatride away.

It’s awesome.

So we went to Seattle for the day, just exploring and checking things out.  Last November I had taken the kids to Golden Gardens Park, which was quite lovely and attached to a huge beach.  We loved it. Plus, it was empty, which made my levels of anxiety regarding losing a kid in a park almost nil.  We all wanted to go back and play at this magical park again.

Unfortunately, last time we were there was the end of Fall.  Now is the end of Spring.  It was packed with people, bbqs, volleyball nets and random mohawked circus jugglers.

If you haven't seen

If you haven’t seen “Hot Fuzz,” then this won’t make much sense. But it is hilarious.

So, we hung out at the tide pools and the kids collected a few billion caterpillars that are swarming on everything around here, and stuck them on their jeans and walked around with them.  Eve named hers Nacho.  Nacho the Caterpillar.

After that we were driving past the Locks, and stopped in to take a peek.

The Locks is this ginormous park that celebrates the Locks that separate the Washington Lake freshwater from the Sound saltwater, and allow ships and boats to go through without disturbing the water too much.  It was neat.  We watched a 1980s video in a dark room about it.

So, we were walking around and watching people’s boats go through the Locks, and on the other side we found the Salmon Ladder.

This ladder is to make sure the salmon can migrate home without getting stuck in/on/around the boats.  Apparently it is pretty successful, because they built this thing in like, 1916 and it has been managing boat travel and over a million salmon, or some crazy number, every year.

All this being said: we were standing in front of the fish ladder exhibit, which was rather interesting.  If there were fish coming through, you would be able to watch them through the windows.  However, we were past migratory season so we were just watching water.  But still – pretty interesting to learn about.

The mesmerizing fish windows.

Well, next to the windows were little red buttons.

Underneath the red buttons was a plaque that said, “Push to hear audio about the types of salmon.”

However, no one read the plaque.  Well, I did, but no one else noticed it was there.

So one of my little children looks at me and asks, “What does the red button do?”

Now, it has been a rather long day at this point and we are at the end of our urban hike, so I am a little tired.

This is the excuse I am using to justify my response.

“Well, if you push the red button the fish fall out.”

*wide eyed*

“So, can I push it?”

“Sure. But all the fish will fall out.”

I don’t even know what this means. The fish will fall out of where? Onto what? Into the auditorium? Into the water?  So many questions!

But every one of the kids asked me the same question about the red button, and I said the exact same thing each time.

Ben was far too eager to get in on this action, and we discussed the fish (who weren’t even there) for a good long time while we were at this exhibit.

Needless to say, no one pushed the red button since no one wanted to hurt the fish.

I imagine, many years from now, my children will take their children to see the Salmon Ladder.

And they will look at the red buttons that will make the fish fall out, and they will be eager and ready to tell their children about this feature….when suddenly…


“THE FISH WON’T FALL OUT IF YOU……gaaahhhh…..Mooooommmmmm.”

Muahahaha.  Mom strikes again.


The Platypus Club.




The Platypus Club.

It is starting.


Loki approves.

“Listen, this is a crazy idea…and it is a little off the beaten path.

But I think we can do this.”

The thing is, if you identify with The Platypus Theory, then you are a Platypus.  Easy as that. And I think we should get together as a cool and groovy club once in a while. Except…

Except, most Platypi are not around my area.  Some are in SanFrancisco, some are in Costa Rica, I think there are one or two in LosAngeles.  There is another in the middle of California…so what am I going to do?

I’m going to have a club where I am….and you are going to have a club where you are.


Now, the thing with The Platypus Club is that it isn’t your normal club.

We aren’t going to have crafts, or speaker series’, or peddle stuff to each other.

We are there because when you meet a Platypus, you know it.  There is something different.  Something you can’t exactly put your finger on, but you can feel it. You can talk to them about religion, writing, politics, feelings, ideas, paleo recipes or face creams: it’s all good.

The Platypus Club is something akin to an alternative-Mother’s group.  Sure, we might be moms at this point in our lives: but we would really, sincerely like to have a group with other intelligent women where we are talking about subjects beyond the brand of toilet paper we use.  Granted, there are times when that is appropriate…and sometimes necessary.  But maybe we could talk about our 5 year plan.  Or even our 2 month plan.  Have a garden you can’t get going?  Dealing with an existential crisis this morning?  Not sure what to do with your unpublished manuscript?  Do you find yourself looking for exit strategies when you are stuck listening to conversations about where to buy picture frames for 45 minutes?

Listen, this is a crazy idea…and it is a little off the beaten path.

But I think we can do this.

I am planning on beginning my Platypus Club on the first Tuesday of the month.  Mostly because I found a pub with an Open Mic on that day, and I’m utilizing that baby in a big way.

I think you should have a Platypus Club in your area.

I think you should invite a fellow Platypus out for a once-a-month Club night.

Be the spark in your galaxy.

Have your own Platypus Club.

We can do this.

Who: Invite fellow Platypi.  If someone “doesn’t get it,” then I would say don’t push it. We are cool with who we are, despite whatever personal insecurities we might have (fear of big things in deep water, for example). The Platypus Club is not going to be a big club. We aren’t going to fill stadiums. But those who do want to come are some high quality individuals. You will remember being with them.

What: Have a beer, drink some tea, and own your night. It’s as easy as that. We have nothing to prove, and I certainly don’t think we need to conquer anything in particular. I think just an informal solidarity is pretty good. Overall, we are just chilling together because we have a very particular and unique understanding of each other…and that will speak volumes in itself.  No need to complicate things with budget forms or committees.

Where: I would suggest a Pub, personally, but that might feel too committal at first. We are a touchy, sensitive sort.  Start with a coffee house, and move up to a Pub.  Or, heck…start with a Pub and have a cool down in a coffee house.

When: First Tuesday of the month.  OR…whenever is good for you. It’s your club, baby 😉

That’s the plan!

Let’s make it happen!

/stickers and buttons coming soon!!

The Forest Fashionista: Off The Grid Fashion Tips

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The Forest Fashionista: Off The Grid Fashion Tips

pickaxe fashion

Honestly, it’s T-shirt and jeans almost every day. Which makes me think that either I have it all together, and I just have a balance between “comfortable” and “eclectic”…or I am living off the fashion grid, entirely.  

I am a big believer in dressing for how you feel.

Feeling funky? Sweat pants and a comfy shirt are probably in your best interest.

Feeling sassy? Definitely a skirt and scarf.

Feeling like swimming? Probably whatever bathing suit you found at Target that you picked up on the way out, when you stopped in for shampoo and cat food.

Feeling like it’s Tuesday…. and you are trying to catch up with projects and still have no idea what to do for dinner?

Tshirt and jeans.


Honestly, it’s tshirt and jeans almost every day.  Which makes me think that either I have it all together, and I just have a balance between “comfortable” and “eclectic”…or I am living off the fashion grid, entirely.  I think a lot of people actually dress according to what is in season..? Like, apparently you can dress for Autumn, and there are some color requirements for that.

That is just too restricting for those of us in the forest.

We have “Forest Glamorous,” which means we are wearing nice jeans, a decent leather jacket and a fancy scarf.


Yet, there is life beyond just tshirt and jeans .  There is more to an ensemble than denim and scarves.

Let me take you down the dusty roads into: Off The Grid Fashion Tips



I am trying to wear Ben’s shirts less, and my shirts more.

Even though his shirts are really comfortable, and don’t show my poochy belly or untoned arms as much.

10392493_10206401980710387_6552175398652696503_nAs we can see in this forest ensemble, the model is sporting a lovely Firefly shirt she bought on the internet.




I wear my size 12 jeans when I want to believe I am a size 12.

I wear my size 14 jeans when I am being realistic.


11053170_10206447435606731_7886497873447201044_nAs we can see here, the forest dweller has emerged to enjoy the native coastline in a full denim ensemble: the overalls.              

Also bought on the internet.


Capes are the most underappreciated article of clothing.

Not only do they keep your arms and torso warm, but your legs as well!  No more warm jackets protecting your upper body while letting your poor legs be pelted to death by chill.

10606462_10204751037477838_5706566527143555996_nChill is only a frame of mind.

Bonus: hoodie feature.

1425629_10204749496159306_2716237834678472649_nPrincess of Avalon?  Maybe.




If the caped hood is not your style, you can simply go with the classic – the hat.


A classic, wide brimmed hat…


or the simple, yet lovely, birdcage veil.


Another underutilized cranial accessory is the wig!

Why spend countless hours and hundreds of dollars to try to get your hair to another shade, when you can wear a wig!

It is easy as pie: braid your hair in the back or wrap it around your head and adorn your crown with the fabulous wig.

10404500_10204884453973167_6121312052279610165_nA lovely shade of purple may suit your ensemble…

10665790_10204686023012517_854869180011376221_nOr a full spectrum of colors, for the colorly indecisive.

Further Accessories:

You may wish to accent your ensemble with rainbow socks:


Fully decked out in Mom’s socks… 

11169836_10206476427131501_3737089137626006271_nOr a pickaxe.

There you have it, my friends.

A full spectrum of Off The Grid Fashion ideas to completely throw your fashion friends’ heads’ spinning.

But damn will you look good when you do.

Gluten Free BBQ Recipes…For Your Sanity

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How To Survive The Gluten Free BBQ

Tamarah's Gluten Free Stuffed Mushrooms with Goat Cheese, Bacon, and Asparagus Tamarah’s Gluten Free Stuffed Mushrooms with Goat Cheese, Bacon, and Asparagus

When you think of “Gluten Free BBQ Potlucks,” you may not be filled with spectacular joy.



The terror….it is overwhelming!!!!!

You may think of cardboard hamburgers.  You may think of translucent quinoa crockpot stews. You may even think that “gluten free” is just the open doorway to kale salads.

Everyone has their own culinary fears surface when they think of gluten free BBQs.

But it can be great!

Trust me: I am not a fan of bad food.  I like good food, and I refuse to give in to bland, questionable dishes at BBQs.  BBQs should be filled with culinary solidarity!  We should enjoy the meal, just as we enjoy the fellowship!

I have the pleasure of having Celiac, which I can unequivocally say has improved my quality of life.

Which is a weird thing to state, I understand.

“You ca’t have pizza??  Or doughnuts??  No french toast??  No KFC??  No burritos?!”

I don’t really miss any of these.  Okay, I actually do really miss flour tortillas.  There is nothing like biting into the soft flour tortilla for a burrito.  I have tried gluten free tortillas, and they are all unconditionally terrible.

But the rest of the items I am forbidden to eat…I probably shouldn’t be eating anyway.

Before I discovered I had Celiac, I just ate whatever I desired.  Since discovering this autoimmune blessing (yes, blessing), I have had to actually do research on what food I am not only putting into my body, but into my family’s as well.  I have taught myself how to cook nutritious food from scratch that actually tastes amazing (these two do not always go hand in hand).

So, in the end, I my quality of life, and my quality of cooking, is significantly better because I have Celiac.



So, come.

Come, my friends.

Enjoy these gluten free BBQ recipes links this Memorial Day.



Quick Pickles

Brilliant Baked Beans

Goat Cheese, Bacon And Asparagus Stuffed Mushrooms



 Potato Salad With A Kick


 Gluten Free Garden Pasta Salad




Gluten Free Octopus Hotdogs


Gluten Free Fried Chicken


Chickpea Burgers

and Gluten Free Hamburger Buns





Pistachio Salad: The Salad of Champions


Gluten Free Lemon Meringue Pie


Gluten Free Carrot Cake Truffles




The Real Life and Times of Celiac

I have the pleasure of having Celiac, which I can unequivocally say has improved my quality of life.

Which is a weird thing to state, I understand.

“You ca’t have pizza??  Or doughnuts??  No french toast??  No KFC??  No burritos?!”

I don’t really miss any of these.  Okay, I actually do really miss flour tortillas.  There is nothing like biting into the soft flour tortilla for a burrito.  I have tried gluten free tortillas, and they are all unconditionally terrible.

But the rest of the items I am forbidden to eat…I probably shouldn’t be eating anyway.

Before I discovered I had Celiac, I just ate whatever I desired.  Since discovering this autoimmune blessing (yes, blessing), I have had to actually do research on what food I am not only putting into my body, but into my family’s as well.  I have taught myself how to cook nutritious food from scratch that actually tastes amazing (these two do not always go hand in hand).

So, in the end, I my quality of life is significantly better because I have Celiac.


Unfortunately, there are drawbacks.

I cannot trust anything that has been pre-made.  Anything.  Even gluten free items.  Even certified gluten free items.

I had to stop eating gluten free pasta, because I would have violent reactions (lack of breathing, flush cheeks, muscle spasms, etc) after eating gluten free pasta.  Why is this…it is gluten free!  Maybe the labeling says gluten free, but legally a company can include up to 0.025% gluten in their food, and still be considered gluten free.  That 0.025% makes a difference when my body sees that as eating 0.025% poison I am putting in my body.

Lately I have had to stop eating the gluten free pizza in the Costco freezer section.

And last night I was in bed with another violent reaction to Udi’s Gluten Free Bread, which I never thought was a problem before. It is incredibly frustrating, since this was a safe option for me; but after a few tests over the course of a few weeks, you at some point you have to admit there is a problem.  You aren’t just tired, you aren’t just imagining things. Laying in bed with muscle cramps and not being able to breathe, and then feeling fine 2-3 hours later, is a big indicator that there is something wrong.

So what is the problem with Udi’s Gluten Free Bread???  The ingredients are all gluten free…

I think I found out why – after reviewing the ingredients – they have added a mold inhibitor which may be a sensitivity problem. I know with the Kraft Cracker Barrel cheese – this has been added as well – which may be why Kraft does not have this cheese on its gluten free web page. The other cheeses yes, but not this particular brand. The inhibitor is natamycin – and it seems that some do have a sensitivity to this type of preservative.”  (celiac.com)

You are going to have to forgive my language for a second:


The mold inhibitor?!!!!


So, I’m back to square one.

That is Celiac, my friends.

By Hollywood’s Standards, I Am Ahead

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37 Is Too Old To Date, Says Hollywood

Old guy, younger woman. Nonsense.Old guy, younger woman. Nonsense.

What if an accomplished actress was not just the love interest of an older man?  What if being 37 meant I was worth more than being an attraction?  What if being a 37 year old woman with a career had value beyond my bikini lines.  Wouldn’t that be crazy?

Apparently women who are 37, by Hollywood’s standards, are way too old to date a male protagonist in his mid-50s.

While our first reaction might be a flavor of, “I’m sorry, what??” it isn’t that surprising.  Remember “Sabrina” with Audrey Hepburn and Humphrey Bogart? Dude, Hepburn was 25 in that film.  25. Bogart was 55.

Not much has changed.

What threw me when I read that Maggie Gyllenhaal was too old, by Hollywood’s standards, to play the love interest of a 55 year old dude, was realizing that I was turning 37 this year.

I had to walk that one off.

This means I am too old to date anyone who is 55 such as the enchanting Hugh Laurie, or the elegant James Spader.  I may be young enough to date Tom Selleck, who is completely owning his 70s, but really, no one is that lucky.

But that got me thinking: who else am I too old to date?*

Jim Carrey: This amazing actor is sporting his 53 years with vigor, and enjoying life with Cathriona White, who is 28. So I am waayyyy too old for Jim.

Johnny Depp: Albeit still a youthful 50, Johnny’s illustrious lady friend, Amber Heard, is still an even more youthful 27.

Leonardo DiCaprio: This overly talented man has not even reached his 50s, and yet he has never had a woman on his yacht that has reached their 30s. 

But, to be fair, the most beautifully talented Robin Wright is pulling off her 50th year with a 35 year old Ben Foster. And although you wouldn’t know it, Joan Collins is sashaying her 81st year with a 49 year old Percy Gibson.  So, men may have similar limitations with gaining the attentions of phenomenal women in Hollywood.

The other day Melissa McCarthy had a quality moment with the press:  McCarthy then asked him if he had a daughter: “If she comes home and someone says, ‘You can’t have a job because you are unattractive,’ are you going to say, ‘That’s right’?”

“Just know every time you write stuff, every young girl in this country reads that, and they just get a little bit chipped away,” McCarthy said. “I just think we tear down women in this country for all these superficial reasons, and women are so great and strong.”

I just wonder…if my daughter came home one day and said she couldn’t have a job because she was too old, how would that be right?

What if an accomplished actress was not just the love interest of an older man?  What if being 37 meant I was worth more than being an attraction?  What if being a 37 year old woman with a career had value beyond my bikini lines.  Wouldn’t that be crazy?

You know what that makes me think, though?  It makes me think that us older women have the upper hand with Hollywood.  Sure, Maggie Gyllenhaal can’t be a love interest to a 55 year old actor…but, stay with me here: what if she didn’t have to be a love interest, at all?  What if a woman was the hero, like Katniss Everdeen?  Or maybe the women fought for themselves, like in “Mad Max”?  What if the leading woman was like Emma Stone’s role as Sam Thompson in “Birdman”? 

What if women had worth as more than the romantic interest to a man?  It seems that if Hollywood shuts the door to women in their 30s for this position, that the doors of opportunity for greater, world-changing roles actually open up for us.

So, with all this being said: at a distinguished 37, I believe I am actually ahead of the game.  By Hollywood’s standards.

*obviously, hypothetically speaking. 

How Do You Sleep At Night?

I have never been a good sleeper.

When I was in elementary school, I would always wake up in the middle of the night for something.  Sometimes it was random bloody noses, sometimes it was nightmares…sometimes I would just wake up.  And lay there.  Moving to the couch in the living room helped, because my grandfather was usually awake watching infomercials since he couldn’t sleep either.  He usually got the big couch, and I got the loveseat.  He also would leave his dentures under the coffee table, just out of obvious sight, when he started falling asleep, and let me tell you: that never failed to gross me out.  In a good way.  It is an endearing memory I have of him.  I think grandfathers are allowed to troll their families in their own weird and subtle ways.

So, at 2:30 this morning, my 6 year old had a nightmare and came into our bedroom for help.  As a child, though, I would stand next to my parents’ bed, and consequently freak them out by just staring at them trying to figure out if I should wake them up at all… he  proceeded to jump on me and crawl into bed with the energy of a puppy.

So, I was very awake.

And it is 5:30.

And I am still awake.

I figured sleep just wasn’t coming, so I might as well get up and make the most of my time.

I believe that knowledge and awareness go a long way, and I have a feeling that I am going to become very aware of how tired I am around lunch time today, with the knowledge that I’ve had 2 hours of sleep.

With this in mind, I have the foreknowledge that I am going to be cranky.

This may be overthinking things a little bit…but I have nothing better to do right now.  There are things that happen every day around here that bug me, but they are very little things that I can fix.  None of them are a big deal at all.  And I can handle them.  When I am well rested.  But today, I am not. So these little things are going to pile up quickly, and instead of reacting to them, I am going to anticipate my irritation and not react to them, since I saw them coming already!

Ha Ha!

Seriously, I need to sleep.


So here we go!  10 things I know will irritate me this afternoon!

1. Open cabinets.  I don’t know why this bothers me to the degree it does, but walking into the kitchen and seeing an open cabinet just drives me nuts.

2. Cereal bowls left on the table.

3. Cereal bowls left on the couch.

4. Binder paper on the floor.

5. No one can find a pen.

6. They can find a pencil, but not a pencil sharpener.

7. I mess up the sandwich orders and give the sandwich with no jelly to the child who wanted the jelly, and the sandwich with jelly to the child who didn’t want the jelly, and go right into transcendental Socratic arguments of whether or not we really have the sandwich that we were intended to have, and what does jelly really mean anyway?

8. Coming downstairs to see the front door open, and then having to do a headcount.

9. Missing shoes.

10. These guys are basically going to be my inner monologue until I get some rest.



We Invaded A Viking Festival, And Plundered Their Doughnuts

Last Friday, I discovered that there was a Viking Festival on Saturday.

They had Vikings.  They had the most amazing doughnuts that I could but only gaze upon, but everyone thoroughly enjoyed.  I did thoroughly appreciate some handmade orange truffles in a chocolatier’s shop, which was simply amazing.

We saw boats, dragons, swords, Vikings, fake beards and monster trucks.

I may have found Heaven.




Viking Festival?

Oh. I was made for this.



And so are my daughters.


We got there just in time for the parade, so we are just hanging out in a very Norwegian town.  Across the street was Thor’s Hammer Tattoos and The Norse Maid.


Found some awesome helmets, and had to pry ourselves away from the weapons’ booth…



Vikings in the wild.IMG_3755

I think they were the friendliest Vikings in the history of Vikings, though.


Sons of Norway, represent!




Poor Conrad.  He was plundered by a sticker.



Most vicious Viking marching band.
IMG_3782The kids were loving the parade and waved to them all.



And there was ELSA AND ANNA.

At which point everyone freaked out and lost their minds.


They were fantastic and took pictures with tons of kids.



Did you know there is a Viking roller derby for girls?  Oh, you better believe I am looking into this.



Horses. Princesses…what is that in the background??


I stole some pictures off of Ben’s phone this morning.  Apparently this is my “I am navigating little people through crowds while not tripping on my skirt” face.



There were so many families at the parade.  I love this place.  Kids and dogs and grandparents and lots of friendly people.
























My girls.




My son.





Unpopular Opinion: 5 Parenting Conversations I Am Seriously Done With

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5 Parenting Conversations I Am So Done With

Sometimes, I leave the house and get together with friends in a place that will give us nachos and margaritas, and then more nachos. I leave my apron hanging in the kitchen. I put on my fancy clothes (totally Instagramming that). I do my hair and put on my bitchin’ red lipstick. I look freaking stunning. The night is ours, my friends.

Some backstory: I am a parent.

My husband and I have a bundle of kids, and while we have been doing this parent thing for over a decade by now, I have learned so much.

About my children. About society. About life.  About myself.

Having children really opens your mind to bigger concepts of what life really is made of.  Big picture ideas.  Does the dirty kitchen floor really matter when your little 3 year old girl is curled up in your lap, sobbing gently because Snow White was running away from the woodsman and she feels so badly for the poor, scared princess?  The floor is not even on my radar at this moment.  My entire heart is devoted to comforting and protecting my baby from these tears that are being shed on my breast.  When my 6 year old son mentions that he has to pee when we are hanging out on an isolated beach, and we tentatively advise him to find a bush hidden away next to the sand dunes (hey, no judging).

Yet, when we look back to check on him, we see him standing at the very top of the tallest sand dune with his tan overalls bunched around his ankles, peeing into freedom.

That is a parenting moment I could never reproduce or replace, and the euphoric joy my husband and I felt as we laughed at the simple misunderstanding is a euphoric joy that fuels parenthood.


IMG_3411Parenting Moment: Following in her mother’s footsteps with good taste in lipstick.

Being a mother has changed everything about how I was planning on living my life.  I love my family, and I love all of my children more than life itself.


Sometimes, I leave the house.  I leave my apron hanging in the kitchen, and I put my fancy clothes on that will totally go on Instagram tonight.  I brush my hair and put on my bitchin’ red lipstick, and I look freaking stunning.  My 4″ sparkly heels are the sound of liberation as they land definitevly on the tile entry way of a local restaurant where I am getting together with girl friends.  We order nachos and margaritas; and maybe more nachos, after that.  The night is ours, my friends.


IMG_3689My killer, “I’m going out tonight” shoes.

Until 9pm, when we have to head home and pay the babysitter; and even after the babysitter leaves, I have the quiet house full of slumbering children, well fed on pizza I ordered before I left (perhaps as outright bribery to let me go out for an evening).

I love going out with girlfriends.  I love laughing with them, I love talking with adults and I love relaxing with my girls.

But I swear to you….

If I go to another Girls’ Night Out event and have to talk about which diapers we have used, or how to make sandwiches that kids will eat, or how lemon essential oils will take gum out of your kids’ hair…

I am seriously going to start punching people in the face.

Listen: We are all in this parenting thing together.  We are all doing the best we can, and we can all learn from each other, no doubt.  No doubt.

But if we have a babysitter at home watching the kids, and we are wearing our grown-up clothes and our very favorite heels…we are not talking shop.

I am talking about adult stuff.  I’m talking about the Pope, I’m talking about the government, I’m talking about the recent societal uproar, I’m talking about social issues, I’m talking about big ideas…I am using the rest of my brain that still remembers how to use polysyllabic words in consecutive sentences, and that isn’t devoted to worrying about what diaper cream we are using.

There are 5 conversations that come up, in particular, that I will put my shiny heel down.  Unless you just got out of the hospital with your first baby, unless you are having a serious crisis, unless you honestly need to discuss this for a very particular purpose….just like our favorite song says: We need to Let these conversations Go:


5. Naptimes. Bedtimes. Reading times. Poop times. 

Omg, it’s just a day.  A day with kids.  You are going to be feeding them, putting them to bed, playing with them, reading with them, schooling with them, eating with them, walking with them…some days you are practically breathing with them.

Although it is interesting to talk shop with other parents, if we are having a Girls’ Night Out..I am not talking shop.  

We do not need to spend the evening talking about how to form the perfect naptime schedule.  Message me on facebook about your ideas on how to get your wiggly 4 year old to keep taking naps, or email me with some Babble article you read on how to create a sticker chart for your infant.  But if I am holding an Amber beer in my hand, I am not talking about naptimes.  I swear, my eyes just glaze over once I hear buzz words like ” Baby-led positive self-regulating attachment naptime schedule competence.” If I hear this from your lips, I am ordering you 3 more martinis and getting you shit-faced until you start solving the world’s problems based on this crazy theory you had when you were 22, and then driving your relaxed, adult ass back home.

Girlfriends gotta stick up for each other.


4. What to feed the kids.

I am going to be so humbug about this, but hear me out.

Feed them food.



3. How to clean the house

I hate cleaning the house.  I clean my house because we have 7 people here, and I may, or may not, be the worst offender of leaving cups around the house.  Laundry is the bane of my existence, and I love Lysol wipes in unnatural ways.  Mirrors, windows, toilets, doorknobs, blankets, cars…they’re awesome.

I remember one weekend, many years ago, when I was on some organized “retreat” with other women who were also part of an organization for mothers.  We were watching this video on how to be better mothers.  The woman I went with was sitting next to me, and we were both sitting in a room full of attentive young women who were eager to learn from older women about how to love their families in real and authentic ways.  I don’t know about them, but I was very interested in what they were going to talk about.  I love learning new things!

And I swear to you, we listened to this nonsense about how to clean your kitchen counters and what percentage of the counter space should be occupied, and 15% of your kitchen table should be used for centerpieces, “but no more than 15%, or it starts to get crowded…

I was stuck at that event, because I was the coordinator for a freaking international mother’s group and I had to go…but my brain began melting, and I could only write my thoughts about what a ridiculous waste of time this was in a notebook, because everyone else seemed to love these ideas.

Here’s the deal: if you love organizing your kitchen, that is great.  More power to you.  If we are shoving nachos into our faces, the percentage of counter space available in my kitchen is the last thing on my mind.  Besides, maybe, the GNP of Amsterdam.  That might be the penultimate thing on my mind, followed by the counter space available in my kitchen.


2. My period.

Ladies, we have been getting our periods ever since we were 12.

Most of us get them every single month.

I get my period exactly 3 weeks after I stop bleeding from birth, so I have no break other than pregnancy.  It is a constant in life that I can always rely on.

I don’t need to talk about it, in detail, at all.  It has nothing to do with being embarrassed, or feeling uncomfortable about talking about menstruation, or getting grossed out by it.  I have been changing diapers for 10 years.  There has been poop on things in my house that I never expected.  Menstruation is not even factoring on my gross-out meter.

There are just better, more thought-provoking things to talk about other than our periods.

Another Bloody Mary?  Don’t mind if I do….


1. My birth story.

It was exciting when it first happened…of course it was!!  It was birth!!  The miracle of life!  FROM MY BODY.

I was an incredible, life changing moment.

But it has also been quite a few years, and it’s just not my main focus of conversation anymore.  Again, unless you just had a baby, unless you are going to have a baby, unless it honestly just comes up in conversation: Even though this is an enormous, life-altering, incredible and amazing event that we have all gone through…

we actually don’t need to rehash the details of our epidurals over cocktails.  5 million times.  We’ve all done it, and your youngest is 14 years old.  Let’s move on, shall we?

Now, if you will please pass the salt, we can get this party started.

IMG_3415Nails done. I am ready to go.

Monster House Is Sold!!

We have been up to our ears in paperwork this week, doing a quick sell and a short escrow…

and this morning a notary came to our house and we signed the final paperwork to sell the monster house!

This is a huge relief for us, and I am looking forward to really, honestly being able to relax in our new home.  No more calls from the police department telling us someone figured out some other way to break into our old home.  No more paperwork.  No more insurance claims.  What a mess it was.

Now we just move on with life 🙂

Such a relief.