I have been stuck at my parents' house in Jersey for what has felt like forever. It has been grand! Seriously, it has. No sarcasm there. Well, mostly grand. But I have learned quite a few things during my snow-stay:

Being snowed in has made me fat. All we have in the house are Christmas leftovers. Mix that in with boredom and fatness ensues. Last night I sat down with a beer, pepperoni, chips, Helluva Good dip, and cookies. Why not? But now I am fat.

Dad has been holding out on me. Apparently Midas Touch is like the most awesome of the Dogfish Head beers. Did he tell me? No. But I found out tonight after spending 1.5 hours traveling for what should have taken 5 minutes!!!!! I deserve the MIDAS! Hm. Ok then.

The Guilianna and Bill marathon on Style was awesome. So was the Bridezilla marathon. And How I Met Your Mother. Along the same lines, Brett Favre is ridiculous but SNL skits about him are hilarious. Open-fly Wranglers anyone?

Sadie, the dog, is terrified of snow and it's pretty entertaining.

Caleb, the kid, is not so terrified of snow and it's pretty exhausting.

In fact, Caleb loved the snow so much he was willing to let go of all his little boy pride and wear a hot pink snow suit with hot pink light-up boots. (What? I was unprepared!)

Storm Troopers are the best! (Kept said kid happy for hours while not wearing pink suit and boots.)

When Caleb cries his nose still scrunches up like it did when he was a newborn. It melts me.

My mom and dad are still the best people to be cooped up with. I love feeling like I am home.

That being said, I miss Maryland! And I think that is pretty phenomenal.

I learned a lot about me. I am complex and yet embarrassingly simple. Somehow I will take control of all this crap running inside of me. But I realized today that I have been sad for a very long time and I am done being sad. I don't know if it means anything or will do anything, but I am deciding to not be sad anymore.

And while this is not new knowledge, but just reconfirmed 1000X more:



An Open Letter

Dear NJ Turnpike,

I thank you so much for the hour long bumper to bumper wonderment I was forced to experience this evening. Though, I must say, the effect it had on my child was simply exhilarating. He was filled with intriguing, thoughtful questions such as, "Are we there yet?" "When will we get there?" and "Why can't you just honk your horn and make the cars move?" Oh, how I loved every second! And yet, that wasn't enough! No, you blessed me with a large van flying up the shoulder which nearly killed me and my "your answer isn't good enough, Mom!" son. Naturally, an expletive flew out of my mouth causing my son (oooo, how I love him) to ask, "Are you on the naughty list?" So, thanks again NJ Turnpike. I am now officially another jaded Jersey driver. On the naughty list.

Merry Christmas! #&#&#^ &#^@&*# &&#*@#&@*#*@#&




Tonight I poured a glass of wine and toasted myself. Listen, since I moved down here I have experienced some severe ups and downs. I have woken up feeling like I made the absolute right decision in moving down here to lovely Maryland. And I have woken up not wanting to get out of bed because I just couldn't imagine facing another day of the biggest mistake of my life. I never knew how I would feel when I opened my eyes. There was no trigger. No rhyme or reason. It just was. But lately, there has been a shift. I am beginning to see what God is doing here.

A. Caleb and I have the most incredible relationship. It is no where near perfect. For instance, tonight I threw toys around his room because he opted for bed at 6:30 pm instead of cleaning his room. But it is awesome. He said recently said to me, "Hey, Mom. We're going to be together forever." And you know what? No matter what, he's exactly right. How lucky am I?

B. I am doing things I would never normally do. I am putting myself out there and meeting people. Doing things. Making friends. And I am loooooving it.

C. I am learning to love the country. I get the allure of farms and cows and fields of nothing but nothing. It's beautiful. (Let me insert, this area is also very built up. So, I get the best of both worlds.) Now I want wide open spaces.

D. I am getting braver. And stronger. And prouder. This is good...this is very good.

I pray this lasts............

I have a feeling there is a whole lot of change coming. A whole lot of good change. If I can just let Him work.... Pray that I do. If there is one thing I learned from moving down here it's this: shut up and let God do.


Because nobody commented

Yes, it is sad. No one commented on my last blog post about...well, read it!...and so I stopped writing. Uh. Yeah. And I don't have anything particularly interesting to say now other than I think I need to start doing this again. So, I'm gonna. Comments or not! Ha! (That "ha" was to me, not you.)

But I promise dear readers...all three of you...one of which is my mom... My days here since I have moved to Maryland have been eventful and therefore, rest assure you will be entertained. I am 27 and finally living on my own with a 5 year old who has a personality the size of Alaska. Yes, Alaska. It is relevant. He insisted on watching the Palins on TLC tonight and now wants to visit lovely Sarah and go fishing with her.

So, stick with me. You might even want to leave a comment! Or not. Whatever.


I am a blog slacker. My apologies.

I wish I could claim that I started all this exercise and better eating to embark on a healthier life-style, but in all honesty, it was begun as a control thing. A lot around me was spinning out of control, I hate that, so I had to do something to feel like I had some control over something. It has worked out so far. Yoga, boot-camp, and the book series "Eat This, Not That" have been the tools of my "control." But, alas, there is still one (well, one that is relevant to this post) thing that I have zero control over.

Another bloggie I frequently read wrote about the devastatingly all too real excess belly skin that occurs post-baby, maintains regardless of how many crunches you do, and hangs in such a delightful manner. I have learned to accept mine. Loathe it, but accept it. That was until I did yoga a few days back.

Ladies, for those who suffer from the excess belly skin that I speak of, and you want to give yourself the biggest fright of your life, do the following: Minus a shirt, but with a bra (sports or regular), put yourself into plank position. To quote Bob from The Biggest Loser, "It's like a push-up, but in yoga we call it plank." (As if calling it plank makes it cooler. Regardless, it hurts like hell.) While in plank, look down at your tummy. Feel free to scream. I did. Then let me know what you saw. How it made you feel. And if you see nothing to speak of or, better yet, freak out over, I DON'T WANT TO HEAR ABOUT IT!


After a ridiculous amount of working out (after child who destroyed my body, but is worth it all, goes to bed) and FINALLY eating right for longer than a month, I was able to confidently purchase a....bikini. That's right. To wear out in public. Well, if "public" is my mom and dad's pool....

I went into Victoria's Secret with Caleb. He is very well behaved in that store; unlike any other I drag him into. I don't know what it is exactly. I do know I don't need/want to know what it is exactly. I picked out a suit and headed to the scary place, aka the fitting-room, to see how hideous or passable I was going to look. Caleb came in with, of course. Although, I do believe it would be a very lucrative business if there was someone to watch the children whilst the fitting-room traumas occurred. Especially in Victoria's Secret. Then no one would have to hear, "Mommy! I see your boobies!" Or, "There's your butt! I want to kiss your butt." ...ahem.... Oh, the embarrassment. Yet, still, tonight, I took him knowing full well I wanted to try on a bikini and was willing to handle the inevitable exclamations that would carry through-out the store. Shockingly, he said not a word. He was too busy pretending to be Larry from "The Night at the Museum" to notice what I was doing. That is until I was trying to get dressed and had placed the bikini top down in his vicinity. He picks it up and stares at it inquisitively. He looks at me, looks at it, looks at me, looks at it. Enter inevitable LOUD exclamation:

"I am going to put this on. I am going to put my tiny boobies in it!"

.......stifling inevitable laughter.........

"No, honey. That's for me."

"For your boobies."

"Well, yeah."

End scene. Not so bad this time.


Sometimes I really hate the fact that I am divorced. Yes, I am lonely (there, I said it), but that's not why I am hating the single-mom thing right now. I hate that Caleb doesn't have a sibling. And who knows when, or IF, he ever will.

I went to to dinner tonight with a friend I haven't seen in years, his wife, and their two girls (4 and 5,) who are just adorable. One said to the other, "Hey! When we get home, do you want to play with ::enter something I never heard of and can't remember::" "Yeah!"

There was something about that dialogue that, at first, just made me smile and remember the good ol' days of my sister and me. Then I looked at Caleb. He was sitting there. Alone. Doing his own thing. Perfectly happy. But alone. It's hard to explain what exactly came over me in that moment, but I felt incredibly sorry for him. I felt like I failed him. And that feeling is sticking around tonight.

I feel so inadequate. So utterly inadequate. I can't give him a sibling. His father and I are great friends, but couldn't stay husband and wife (talk about the cruelest of irony). We failed at our marriage and because of that.... Well, here I am. I do all that I can to let him know that he is loved and safe and LOVED, but something will hit me out of nowhere and I will feel like it's just not enough.