Friday, February 19, 2016

Hot hot pink, by Manic Panic, causing panic...

Hot Hot Pink, by Manic Panic, causing panic.

If there was ever any doubt in my mind what it would look like to slaughter a unicorn in my bathroom, I now have a crystal clear image.

In fact, not only is this image burned into my retina, it's also a hot pink crime screen in my bathtub.  Looking at the splashes of color dripping down the sides of my walls, while standing in a pool of murky hot pink water, made me feel like a dexter in the making.

White tub, I'd like to introduce you to Hot Hot Pink (also delightfully known as hellish unicorn death). Panic set in quickly. As a home owner, my white tub is non-negotiable. It must be clean and pristine. So what's a girl to do?

Bleach. Bleach and more Bleach.

I wish I had taken a photo as evidence. However, I had already jumped into action, naked with bleach and brush in hand. There just wasn't an appropriate moment to grab my phone to do a naked murder scene selfie. What a missed opportunity.

I would like to take this moment to add a public announcement:
Cleaning like a crazy person, soaked in bleach and naked is not advisable.  
There are places bleach just doesn't belong on a human body. 
Enough said.  

After thirty minutes of scrubbing and the tub was a light blush.  My hands, soaked in bleach, still looked Hot Hot pink.

Then, like a sign from above, my husband opens the door and passes a glass of cold beer into my hands. It's times like these that you embrace what comes your way. Remember people, it's the little things (like being handed a cold beer while scrubbing a crazy colored tub) that really make a marriage work.

Tomorrow I will return to the scene on the crime. Hopefully, I've done a better job cleaning than what I've described above. Otherwise, bring on the cold beer, bleach and protective clothing.

Manic Panic, you have won the war. I'm exhausted, covered in unicorn blood stains and slightly buzzed.


Have you experienced something like this? I'd love to hear about it!



Saturday, February 6, 2016

Foster parents on vacation

Thank god for sun, blue water and bloody marys!

It felt absolutely amazing to take a break from social workers, state arguments, fasd testing issues, lawyers and temper tantrums.  At least in Mexico, if I get burned, I know it was my own dumb fault. In Mexico, I’m in control of how much and how often we put sunscreen on.

Did I get burnt? Yes. Was it bad? No. Was is worth it? Heck yes!

My husband and I enjoyed 6 days in Cozumel Mexico. We had an amazing view from our 9th-floor balcony.  We snorkeled. Husband was bit by a fish. I almost drowned from laughing as the fish biting was absolutely my fault.

As much as we loved Cozumel there is something to be said about sleeping in your own bed. Cuddling your pup. Hugging your little one who missed you like crazy. 



Friday, January 22, 2016

“The voice in my head is an asshole.”-Dan Harris

“The voice in my head is an asshole.”-Dan Harris


Thank you, Dan Harris, for expressing the same thought I’ve had for many years.  It turns out most people, myself included, are much harder on themselves than they are on anyone around them.


It does make you wonder what part of you thinks these thoughts that are so out of your norm.


It’s almost as if the most fatal flaw in a human is that we can never be enough to be enough for ourselves.


Each and every day we wake up and battle till nightfall. No wonder people need pills to make them happy, pills to make others happy with them and pills that hopefully pull us out of bed to fight another day.


I do wonder what kind of day would happen if that voice in your head finally crawled out of its dark and depressing hole. I wonder what kind of people we would be if we stopped worrying about what other people think. How would we act if it didn't matter if the person in the mirror was too skinny, too fat or just not enough?


I better get a self-help book and start a morning mantra of self-love. Knowing that all the while my bitter head laughs at my attempts to flee from its dark shadow cast over me.


Oh to be human, to be flawed, to be weak and amazingly resilient all at the same time.

After a termination of parental rights, court and stress. Being a family member fostering a relatives child is hell.

The TPR after mass.

Yesterday I did one of the hardest things I will probably ever do in my life. Testifying in court against my cousin as the foster parent of her child. Was it the right thing? Yes. Was it the truth? Absolutely yes. Do I feel great about it? No. Will I ever? Probably not.

I had made my choice long ago. My cousin is an adult. As an adult, she can pick herself up off the ground and decide to be a better person for herself and her family. As an adult, she can also choose to do nothing. Doing nothing is a choice.

I chose a child. A child didn't ask for a mom who wasn’t there.  A child did not know not to trust her mother behind the wheel of a car because drinking was more important.  As an adult, I chose to protect and nurture a child who deserves a chance.

I made my choice.

My heart still aches for my cousin. The Adult. The one that couldn’t grow up. An adult that hid behind lawyers instead of showing up for her daughter. I laughed with her. I grew up with her. I’ve cried with her. 34 years is a long time to love and know someone.  

I know that I did the right thing.





Tuesday, August 18, 2015

Umbrellas and depression

I'm one of those people who love the rain. I mean it. I LOVE it.

My daughter and I love running through the puddles in the rain. Soaking wet and laughing like crazy people really must impress our new neighbors. Yesterday, for the first time in years, I remembered I had an umbrella in my car. It was pouring outside and I thought "hey, I got this".

When it first opened everything looked good. I was smiling at my fortunate find in my  vehicle. Then it happened.

First it popped open. Then it popped up and over like the wind caught it. You know what I mean right? That same thing happened to all of us in elementary school when we thought umbrellas were the best thing ever made. Anyway, it's metal pieces started popping off the umbrella and projecting themselves backwards, towards my face.  Little did I know that when I opened my driver door and pulled out my umbrella that I was soon to be in attacked by a suicide bomber.

I was not prepared for the shrapnel and most certainly wasn't prepared for ISIS attacking via umbrella.  I reacted like a ninja (flailing my hands about while screaming and trapped in my driver seat) and tossed that umbrella out the door. 

To my great sadness not one persons saw this. Not one. 

Sneaky umbrella attack. 





Sunday, August 16, 2015

Fitbit. Love it or hate it?

I have finally given into the temptation of the trendy Fitbit.

There was three reasons for this:

1. One could always move more. How do you know what you've done if you can't track it.
2. I'm American. What American couldn't loose 10 pounds.
3. My husband.

Honestly my husband should have been reason number 1. He and I are highly competitive and now we can compete without being near each other.  So far Dave and I are tied at 1 win and 1 loss each. Unacceptable.

I picture my husband coming home late from work and walking in circles around our basement just to sneak in a couple more steps before the midnight finish line. That or attaching the Fitbit to my dog and letting him run around the backyard while playing fetch.  Yes, that thought went through my mind once or twice. I know my dog would be all too willing.

So far I love my Fitbit. It's been a fun way to motivate myself to move more without a temporary scale guilt trip.

If anyone out there wants a Fitbit bud just let me know. Competition is addictive, fun and gratifiying (when you win at least).




Friday, August 7, 2015

Kickboxing Kosama style


Today’s drill sergeant was Amy. She is awesome, motivating and hilarious. Nothing is a better fit when I’m a fish out of water who’s flipping, flailing and kicking about. 

 I was covered in sweat, gasping for air and trying very hard to still look cool as I realized that I could not in fact beat someone up. It would be way more effort and I just don’t have that kind of energy. 

Kickboxing with Kosama was a blast and it was a hard workout. Thanks Amy for such wonderful support and encouragement.  Also, Amy, I will never pick a fight with you.