The Purge.



It amazes me how much we take upon our shoulders.  Most of the time no one would know.  We make sure the pictures we put on Facebook & social media portray a happy life, the perfect hair, the funniest scenarios, selfies with big smiles for days.  In reality, we are all struggling and not just with one or two things; multiple things..every. single. day.

I’ll be the first to tell you I was beyond glad for 2015 to be over with.  2015 was filled with a lot of hurt, anger, fear and self-preservation for my family and I.  Parenting was at it’s most challenging, my career changed for the better but not without consequence and my marriage was challenged, friendships failed and my self-view was the worst I’ve seen.

These are not things that need to be on social media.  They are not even things I knew how to deal with on my own, let alone with others. These are the things that make us all feel so alone and singled out, but in reality, every one of us is dealing with a certain amount of these stresses and emotions.  In the past few months I’ve realized, it’s all in how you address them and purge them.

Charlie and I spent close to six months of the year telling Timothy’s teachers that he was NOT Autistic. That he was NOT challenged.  They told us he was acting out.  He didn’t want to participate. He wouldn’t listen.  He didn’t know his alphabet or numbers. They kept pushing us to get him evaluated for ADD or Autism or even learning disabilities.  Charlie and I knew they were wrong. In my gut, deep down in my soul, I knew he was not.  But every time it was brought up, or he didn’t something that “might have been on the Autism Spectrum”, we doubted inside.  This almost tore my marriage apart.  It almost kept us from having more children we were so struck with guilt from our times of doubt and sadness at the thought that no one else would believe in our beautiful, bright boy.

Our pediatrician found nothing wrong with him. NOTHING.  Then we decided to take him to the ENT. Turns out, there was something wrong. Timothy’s ears were completely impacted with wax to the point you couldn’t even see his eardrums anymore.  He did have something wrong, our amazing, almost 3 year old couldn’t hear anything but murmurs.

Two weeks later, after drops, we finally had it all removed. We saw an improvement in behavior and speech almost immediately.  Then the worst thing possible happened.  I received a call from his daycare.  They had lost him.  Timothy had somehow gotten away from his one-on-one and other teachers and was found on the corner of a busy intersection by a parent.  Again they blamed Timothy and his need for evaluation.

I don’t know if I’ve ever felt such rage in my life.  I just sat there and let them yell at me and tell me how bad it “could have been”. Tell me that it was my child that wasn’t a fit for their “school” and that I needed to “get him checked out for issues” and that he was no longer allowed to attend the school.  I sat there holding my vibrant, beautiful boy and I just breathed and prayed.  Tears rolled down my cheeks and I felt like a terrible mother for not standing up for him.  For not screaming at those two women. For not telling them to take their judgments and eat them.  But instead, there was a voice inside me that said, “If you do that, no good will come of it”.  So I just sat there and took it.  After they were done scolding us, Timothy and I walked to his cubby and gathered his things.  Then with tears in my eyes and his hand in mine, we walked out of that school and I vowed to never set foot there again.

I’ve never felt so helpless in my life.  I made my call and reported the school and the incident to the state and it was done.  I didn’t want to re-address it, I didn’t even want to drive by the school.  I was angry at them and myself, but I needed it to be over.

Through the ashes of this came a referral for a most wonderful woman who runs a daycare in her home.  In just a few short months, Timothy is excelling like crazy. From 4 and 5 word sentences to singing along to the radio with me.  No more running away. He’s playing with the other kids and asking questions. He is Timothy again.  He is in a place that believes in him.  I prayed for this.  God answered.

I could go on about everything from financial troubles, to the poor management that chipped away at my self-worth and confidence for years, to even my daily struggles with self-image and mindless overeating.  But let’s be honest, It’s 12:13am and tomorrow will be another day to look our struggles in the eye, stick to our guns and take them on one-by-one.

In the end, sometimes you just need to say a prayer, purge the hurt and then smile; because you’re ok. Tomorrow is a new day.





It all makes sense…I’m a jerk.


IMG_3515Alright, I’m not ALWAYS a jerk, but honestly. I’ve been a jerk.  Here and there…sometimes just a little, sometimes pedal to the metal ram you into the sidewall jerkiness.  I’ve been searching for my “center” (I feel all namaste when I say that).  But really, between heading to church on Sundays, spending more time with my family & close friends, and starting to get my life organized, I’m getting small tastes of this thing they call happiness.  You know good ol’ make you smile and even call your mother happiness.

It’s a funny thing this happiness, it makes you want to be better.  So I’ve been reading a bit more.  My most recent book of choice is, The Five Dysfunctions of a Team: A Leadership Fable by Patrick Lencioni.  Wholly Crap.  Everything is starting to make sense.  Not only am I recognizing my dysfunctions that may be causing the team to falter, but I’m seeing the dysfunctions in others.  I finally feel like I can see the light at the end of the tunnel when it comes to areas of my career. This is exuberating.  Like go and eat unlimited Chips & Queso with a gallon of Diet Coke even if it means I’m bloated for 6 days and have to wear my stretchy shoes exuberating!

Don’t get me wrong, I’m still a jerk at times, but who isn’t!  Have you driven anywhere lately?  I’m just saying that taking the time to start to really invest in myself has really opened up a new perspective for me.  This is a big step considering I haven’t watched anything on TV above a G rating in almost a week and a half and my form of cardio today was maneuvering through a minefield of Legos and Thomas the Train for the 15th time trying to get Timothy to stay in bed.

He’s finally asleep, my husband is watching Netflix on the iPad and I’m ready to crash out,  Suburban Bliss at it’s finest.


I was an Adult Today.


IMG_3675I don’t know about you, but when I was growing up in the small town of Grafton, North Dakota, we used the word coffee as a verb.  You didn’t go to visit, you went to coffee.  This inevitably meant cups of coffee around a dining room or kitchen table and chatter about everything in the county.

Today’s noun as a verb is ADULT.  eg.  I don’t want to ADULT today.  ha! right!?  not Adult’ing to me is napping…I mean what ‘adult’ is expected to nap?!  But Adult is much more than that.  It’s bills, responsibilities, know the crap you never really want to do.  I did that today.  The crap I never want to do. Oddly in the end, I feel really well accomplished.  I even read a few excerpts out of my motivational positive thinking books!

I wish I could clear off the entire fridge and just place that magnet of amazingness on my list of ADULTNESS from today! Have the heavens open up with an angelic light that says, SHE DID SOMETHING!

But I didn’t.  And it didn’t. And there is still laundry to fold.

I’m going to bed.

Pinterest, Printables and Parenting: The Three P’s of Timothy’s 3rd Birthday


In the words of another mom tonight, “OH MYLANTA”.  It’s been so ding danged long since I’ve posted on this site. I feel like I should rename it Won’t Post Ever.  ugh.  But tonight, I’m waiting for my husband’s pants to dry before I hit the sheets so here I am.

IMG_0333Timothy just turned 3 on Friday and we even threw together a last minute dinner with Family tonight.  My In-laws were here, as were my two best friends and the best neighbors we could ask for.  My mom was unable to make it, and it felt empty without her.  Maybe that’s why, as we were getting the house ready today, I started to feel guilty that I didn’t plan a big party; no balloons, no theme, no big cake.  It was just a dinner.

Well, let’s just say the “Free Printables” I found on Pinterest and my trusty printer came to the rescue.  We still didn’t have a theme, but I did print off a Curious George Party Hat and a couple little things to make it a little more festive.  We had a cupcake with 3 candles and I pulled out the table cloths from last year’s birthday.  To top it all off, I still had balloons from last birthday as well, and working in radio, we always have helium at the ready, so I ran into work to blow up a couple balloons.  BOOM. we’ve got a “party”

It wasn’t much, it didn’t all match and no I didn’t make the salads from scratch, but it was great company and Timothy was so tired in the end that I thought he’d be sleeping with his cupcake rather than eating it.

IMG_0353I don’t know why we get so caught up in everything being “good enough” for our children.  I mean “good enough” is 100% in the eye of the beholder.  There were no invites, no goodie bags, no running like crazy to coordinate, just family and friends and laughs.  Honestly, I think that’s more than enough.

Living, Laughing and Losing (34 goals for 2014)

Who's late on their Resolutions?  This Chick. That's Who.

Who’s late on their Resolutions? This Chick. That’s Who.

January 24th will be my 34th birthday.  Yikes. 34!?! seriously. Last time I looked I was 23. Now, I’m going to be 34 with a 17 mos old, a husband, a playful labrador, a mortgage and just about anything else “grown-up” you can think of.

I find that having a baby will change you in ways that most people don’t mention.  When I was pregnant I was definitely nesting for pretty much the entire time.  I planted plants, cleaned, discovered and created new projects, went to church more, laughed a lot, napped a lot and just did more things at home.  As soon as Maternity leave was over, it was back to the trenches and like a sad Disney Movie, all those pretty “home” projects withered away.  I found myself stressed, tired and always running behind again.

I don’t think my bun in the oven gave me super powers, but I do believe it helped me to focus on what really matters: family and laughter.  Sure I wasn’t always the happiest of preggo ladies, but dang it, I loved having the excuse to put my feet up and read a book or sew pillow covers or just think about ways to improve our home, lifestyle and more..all on a budget mind you.

So for 2014, I want to lose the baby weight, I want to set a bunch of goals that will help me to spend more time with family, get out and be adventurous and just plain be happy.  Here goes nothin’…

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Burpees or Boogers….I’ll take the boogers.


I hate boogers. phlem. spit..gack!  They will make me barf in an instant.  But Burpees?  LOATHE them.  Once I had my son Timothy, it’s like ‘mama mode’ kicked in and developed a superhero like suit between the boogers and I.  On more than one occasion I have caught myself “grabbin’ a boogie”.  No kleenex. No nothing. Just my bare hand and a boogie. This is barbaric.  It’s almost like I can hear Braveheart screaming in the background “FREEEEEEDOM!” when I actually catch my son long enough to nab it.  THEN I grab a kleenex, because obviously I’m health code dyslexic, and dispose of the evil boogie.  I stand tall, hair flowing in the wind and think to myself, “Super Mom! Fighting Grime One Boogie at a Time!” then you almost hear a record scratch as Timothy puts my entire iPhone in his mouth and starts running with scissors. joy.

The moral of this long, dysfunctional tale, is that I overcame my gag reflex with boogies.  It was like a Christmas Miracle without annoying carolers and cocoa.  But Burpees? I hate them as much as Jumping Jacks.  You know the exercise that every fat person in the 80’s did in terrible grey sweatsuits where you could see every last ounce of their fat doing the cha-cha?   I know they make our cores tight and fantastic.  I know they help our Cardiovascular endurance.  I know that more than 15 in a row will make me barf.  But I don’t think that 10 Christmas Miracles in a row will make me like or even tolerate them.  So, I will go on, cursing my trainer (outloud) whilst hoisting my arse up and down doing these satanic exercises because I know that someday, I’ll hit my goal and I’ll never have to do them again.  Instead, I’ll smuggle wine into the gym and sip it while I watch another victim of the burpee have their will to live tested.

10 Things I Want My Daughter to Know About Working Out


This has an amazing and healthy messege to anyone that hits the gym. Whether you’re a parent or not, I think we can all take this concept and utilize it ourselves.


Mid-way through a recent group exercise class, the teacher lost me.  She didn’t lose me because of some complicated step sequence or insanely long set of burpees; I mentally checked out because of a few words she kept saying over and over.  “Come on!  Get that body ready for your winter beach vacation!  Think about how you want to look at those holiday parties!  PICTURE HOW YOU’LL LOOK IN THAT DRESS!

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Day 1…again.


Rejuv_CoverFB_ItPaysOffWell if there is anything I’ve come to the conclusion of, it’s that Fitness, weight loss, shoot even life always has room for another DAY 1. We stumble and fall off the “bandwagon”..for me it feels more like a PLUMMET at times, but it’s all about picking ourselves back up, dusting off as best we can then taking the next step forward.

Come along with me through fitness, clean eating, parenting, and everything else that comes with the life of a first time mom, carb lover and dreamer of skinny jeans that don’t look like sausage casings.