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Yep, I did that! #MOMFAIL


My youngest, Joe, turned 3 almost three weeks ago. One would think I would remember his age well. I vividly remember my pregnancy, and his birth. Who could forget getting themselves cut open and a doctor pulling another human out of your stomach? Yeah, I remember it well. Well, I apparently couldn’t remember that it all happened three years ago. Take a look:



Yep! I told the baker Joe was turning 2. The best part of this whole thing? I didn’t even notice the error. I was too enthralled with how great the cake looked to notice there was anything wrong. It took the husband one second. He looked at the cake and instead of getting excited like I was (okay, he wouldn’t get that excited over a cute cake no matter what) he said, “Why does it say he’s 2?” I said, “What?” The husband then pointed out the number 2 on the cake. God bless the husband, he assumed the baker made the mistake. Nope, it was me. I checked the emails to the baker and right there in bold letters I said Joe was turning 2. It was all Mama’s fault. In fact, the baker offered to change it to a 3, but I told her no way, it will make for a great story someday, either around the dinner table or in the therapist’s office!

Reposted with permission from

Mom Confession Gets Some Lovin’

12565354_10207433997304851_3670471289157973105_nI had the best week EVER! I had the chance to be on a local Lifestyle show called Idaho Living to talk about “getting real” with other moms and this blog. It was so fun. These two ladies have my DREAM JOB so even getting to sit next to them and be involved was so fun!  Click here to watch!

Yes that was me…crying in Wal-Mart on Christmas Eve

20151222_133317I have to admit something. The whole Christmas season gave me PMS this year. I don’t know what it was! I’d be all excited to do something Christmassy like make a Gingerbread house and then we’d sit down to do it and I’d get all cranky and crampy. Ok not crampy but super cranky. It made no sense. But it happened over and over. I had a full-on meltdown when putting up my decorations because I’d just been to a friend’s house who has TWENTY-FIVE Christmas bins and her house looked like the flippin’ Festival of Trees! Even the backs of her kitchen chairs were festive. It was like I went into the season just feeling like I didn’t have the “ho ho ho” spirit. I just had ho.

So this year we decided to take a vacation for Christmas instead of getting together with my family which we have done our entire 11 years of marriage. I was excited for the change and looking forward to it. Then I really did get a visit from Aunt Flo ON the plane ride to Washington. I was seriously MAD. I cursed the very existence of my uterus! We were going to a resort with a giant indoor water park and I was going to be sidelined! I was looking forward to making memories with my kids not sitting 10 feet away from the ladies room all day!

You’re wondering where Wal-Mart comes in right about now, right? So we fly in Christmas Eve and I had the brilliant foresight to use the site-to-store option to send the bigger gifts to the Washington Wal-mart so we didn’t have to take them with us on the plane. I felt pretty brilliant. Then I started feeling super homesick on the way to Wal-Mart and wondered if we had made a huge mistake. I got there an hour before they closed on Christmas Eve and the employee needed my “state issued ID.” I reached for my license and then realized my husband was holding onto the ID’s and the boarding passes in the airport.  I explained this to the guy and then got out my Costco picture ID and asked if that would work.

“No m’am. We need a state issued ID.”- Guy.

“Listen dude, I just flew on a plane with three kids and drove two hours to get here. My hotel is a half hour away and I can’t go back and get my ID. Here’s the confirmation E-mail and a picture ID. This has to be enough!”- Me.

“We need a state issued ID.”- Guy.

“What do you need?! Here’s my picture and I can call and get my ID number from husband if that will work!” -Me.

“No I need to see your state issued ID.” -Guy.

“Don’t mess with me man! I’m in a fragile state!” -Me

It was then that I buried my face in my hands and literally started. to. sob. And I don’t cry! I don’t cry at movies or at Wal-Mart clerks, I just don’t! And I’m usually so nice to workers and waitresses. But I lost it on that guy! Finally he walked in the back, got my frickin’ Baby Alive Doll and I went on my way. I thanked him half-heartedly and walked away. As I was doing so I heard him say “I could lose my job for this.”

And all I could say is “I bet ya can.”

All is well that ends well and my kids were happy Christmas morning but I’ll never forget being the crazy lady at customer service!

Katching Up with the Kardashians

KardashiansMom Confession: When people tell me they “don’t really watch TV” all I can think of is, “What do you DO at night?” So shameful.

Seriously though, it’s 9:00 p.m. I’ve spent the last hour getting the kids to bed and the house is quiet. All I want to do is put on my sweats and watch TV! I’ll occasionally read or blog but my brain is tired and I want to VEG.

So I know this is SOOOO 2010 but I just started watching the Kardashians and I am slightly obsessed. Here’s the best way to watch a reality TV show: Current season first, then go back to the beginning and binge watch from there. It feels like you’re a psychic and you know everything that’s going to happen to them in a few years!

Ever since watching the Bruce Jenner special I’ve been intrigued. Then a few months ago I saw the current season was on Hulu so I gave it a go and I was so fascinated. Just staring at their perfect skin and Kim’s butt was enough to keep me mesmerized. It’s not good for my self-esteem though. What I do like is that Kim full-on shows her getting laser treatments on her butt cellulite. I knew it could NOT be that smooth naturally. That and the fact that she got a “blood facial” and has a daily makeup artist keeps my reality in check. If I poked my own blood platelets into my face I might have a more youthful glow as well.

So I watched the current season and then shamefully Googled all the missing pieces of their lives that I NEEDED to know. Then I realized that the ENTIRE series is on Hulu…plus Kim and Kourtney take Miami and I think even Khloe and Lamar have their own spinoff on there. Literally DAYS on end of Kardashian madness. Bible. (Only those who watch will get that last reference.) The thing is, I’ve never actually heard of anyone ADMITTING to watching this show. I know people do because they add another 10,000 feet to their mansions each year and that money’s gotta be coming from somewhere but no one actually talks about watching. It’s like a dirty little secret. And since I’m all about dishing dirty little secrets on here you can all now come out of the closet and admit you’re obsessed as well.

Or you were in 2010. It still counts.

Bachelor Night Bingo Cards

The Bachelor is BACK! Mom confession: I LOVE the ENTIRE Bachelor Franchise. Bachelor, Bachelorette, alas even Bachelor Pad and now Bachelor in Paradise. The later is my guiltiest of pleasures. But I don’t watch in the hopes of seeing two people fall in love. Does anyone? Nah, I watch for the DRAMA baby! The crazier the girls, the better. The beefier Alpha Male the guys, the better. The sweet Bachelor from the season before who we all fell in love with becomes a slutty D-Bag? YES! (But please not you Ben H. You’re so sweet and untainted from the world. And you look like a grown up Peter Brady.) He really does. SO….drumroll please. In honor of my favorite show and in honor of all the lovely ladies (and gents occasionally) who get together to watch the Bachelor I present to you Bachelor Night Bingo! This PDF should open up 8 unique cards.  Please share and Pin!    Bachelor Night Bingo Bingo CardsBingo 2

‘Twas the Night Before Thanksgiving (A puking limerick)

12107734_10153926687539050_6349785656419824141_n‘Twas the night before Thanksgiving and all through our pad

The excitement was brewing and so dear old dad

Bought a carton of eggnog for all to enjoy,

A big giant glass for each girl and each boy.




They each drank it up with a smile and a slurp.

“Give us some more!” they said with a burp.

So daddy agreed and poured the drinks tall,

More eggnog for everyone! Come one, come all!


They were feeling content, their bellies were full

All seemed alright ’til one asked for a bowl.

Dad thought they were joking. How could this be?

“It’s just a little tummy ache, wait and see!”


They started to squirm, they started to whine

Then for the toilet, the boy made a bee-line.

“But I need to puke too!” said the cute little girl

So into the sink she made a great hurl.


Mom was holding back hair and rubbing their backs

But deep down inside she was hiding a laugh.

With a spew in the loo and upchuck in the sink,

The kids stood there for minutes, still on the brink.


Then finally it settled they thought they were done,

Turns out it was only beginning, round one.

At the end of the night, the eggnog was gone

It went into their mouths then into the John.


For years down the road they’ll remember the night

Eggnog vs. the kids. You know who won that fight.

And next year when dad asks “Who wants a cup?”

All we’ll think about is the double throw up.


The Guilt, Fear and Joy of Motherhood

Is motherhood supposed to be this heartbreaking?
Is it supposed to be so full of this fear, dread and guilt?
We wish the best for our kids. We want them to be the most athletic, the smartest, the most talented and sometimes they’re just…not. Sometimes they’re not extraordinary at anything in the world’s eyes and you have to remind yourself that all you really want them to be is who they ARE. And happy.
We feel guilt that maybe they’re not a piano prodigy because we didn’t play Beethoven to them in the womb with headphones. We worry we didn’t read them enough books when they were toddlers. We feel guilt that they learned to read by watching PBS.
We worry that they’ll be bullied… we worry that they will BE the bully.
We dread the day that the innocent spark of youth will be lost from their eyes.
We fear the day they want to go to dance class in hot pants and a tank top instead of a pink leotard and a tutu.
We feel guilt because we haven’t changed that chore chart in months or even made the kids do chores because it’s too fun watching them play Mermaid-Pirates with each other and we’re so just grateful they get along.
We worry we’re not giving our kids enough of us and too many “things.”
We worry we’re either too hard on them or not hard enough. Sometimes the intense love we feel for them rips our heart out again and again which we would gladly do because when it all comes down to it, we would die for our kids.
Then at the end of the day when we’ve yelled at them three times to brush their teeth and their lights are finally off all they want…at the end of the day… is US. They want mommy. We are ENOUGH for them and they are ENOUGH for us.

Give Yourself a High Five If Your Kid Says This…

boy yellingThere is one sentence I believe every mother should own and wear as a badge of honor. In fact, maybe we need actual badges with the sentence printed on it, maybe bedazzled on, or in big bold letters… whatever works for you. When you hear that sentence, I think every mom should wear it with pride.

I heard it for the first time when Ben was 4 years old. I remember the day well. I’d just picked him up from preschool, and he wasn’t getting in the car as I’d asked him to do. After what felt like the 100th time  telling him to get in the car, I finally said, “I guess we’re doing this the hard way.” That’s when I picked him up and put him in the car myself. At 4 years old this was not okay with Ben. He always wanted to get himself into the car, so when I took that privilege away from him, my sweet, blond haired, blue eyed angel looked me in the eye and with all the loathing a 4 year old can muster he said, “I wish you weren’t my mommy.” There it was. Four years of parenting and I finally got hit with that zinger.

When I told my girlfriends about it, every single one of them said the same thing: “I’m so sorry” and “ I’m glad I haven’t had to hear that yet.”

As much as I appreciated the kind words, there is no need to feel bad for me. Here’s why: I believe that little sentence means I’m doing my job as a mom.

I wear that sentence as a badge of honor. That’s right, a badge of honor.

To me that sentence is simple: it means I’m the mommy and I’m doing what a mommy is supposed to be doing. I’m setting boundaries for your 4 year old self, and I’m sure I’m going to be hearing it when you’re 14 when I’m setting boundaries for your teenage self (God help me when that time comes.)

I don’t feel bad he said it, because I said it too. I said it to my mom when I was little. I always said it when I didn’t get what I wanted, or she said no, or she didn’t do something I wanted her to do. Basically I said that one sentence when my mom was putting boundaries up, or when she was teaching me life lessons. Life lessons that at 5 years old I didn’t much appreciate. Okay, okay, I said that one sentence A LOT as a teenager, and I didn’t much appreciate what she was trying to teach me then either.

I know why I said those words: to hurt her, to make her feel bad, to make her think there were better mommies out there.

I know that’s why Ben said it too. So I looked him in the eye and said, “I know you do.” That’s all the acknowledgement I gave that sentence.

What I really wanted to do was raise my arm in the air and high five myself because that sentence acknowledged that in some small way I’m not totally screwing up this parenting thing. Every once in a while, I’m getting it right, and at the end of the day, that’s all I can ask for.

Guess what? Three years have passed since Ben first said those words… Joey turns four this week and I haven’t heard the same sentence, but I think it’s a different version of the exact same sentiment: “Mommy sometimes I don’t love you.”

That’s another badge for me.

Reposted from with permission.

It’s my Mommy Purse-onality

20151023_154308A couple months ago at a church women’s group “get to know you” event we were supposed to bring three things that represent who we are.

In the rush to leave I grabbed two random things, couldn’t think of a third and ran out the door.

When it got to me the third time around I started looking through my purse to find something and I decided just to show everyone all the random crap in my purse because that really describes me better than any one item! I came home and immediately de-cluttered that purse.

Then last month I went on a trip and my sister bought me a backpack purse for my birthday, so after that trip and another few weeks I had TWO fully stocked purses floating around and I needed to consolidate. So I took a picture of the contents of both purses for your viewing pleasure.

In case you can’t quite see there are indeed two sticky hands, a chip clip, a rock, chocolate laxatives, multiple sunglasses, cars, pony bands, chap sticks, lip glosses and bracelets. Daniel Tiger, a doll mask, a notepad, gift cards, mints, my camera, vitamins, deodorant, candy and fruit snacks. (Thrown away before the picture were countless receipts, gum wrappers, empty zip locks, tampons out of their wrappers and about an inch of goldfish cracker dust.)

This could be a hidden picture game. I could say find the piece of salt water taffy and you could spend five minutes finding it.

My purse is more than a purse. Apparently it’s a pharmacy, a diaper bag, a toy box, a jewelry box and a garbage can all in one.

The Road Trip When I Finally Snapped

375671-priestley-childrenAhhh the family road trip. Mom and dad in the front…mom trying to listen to talk radio…dad trying to listen to techno.  Kids in the backseat fighting. It’s par for the course, right? Except this past summer when Mom. Finally. Snapped.

There we were- only about an hour outside of Boise when Brighton and Deacon were screaming at each other in the very back of the mini van. Deacon dropped his binky (which we can’t live without in the car) so I asked Brighton to get out of her seat belt and get it for him. He kicks her in the head when she’s bending over and she starts wailing on him. They’re screaming at each other, hitting, scratching, and she’s whipping him in the face with her Rapunzel Barbie’s uber-long hair.

That’s when I had enough. I said “give me that Barbie!” She threw it up to me and in a split second the window was rolled down and Barbie was held hostage out the window going 80 miles per hour. I looked over at Aaron for confirmation about what I was planning to do and he gave me a slight nod like a mob man confirming the execution of a traitor.  I let that Barbie fly.

I see her in the rear view mirror- long hair and purple dress- flying through the air. And I see the car behind me swerve to miss her.  I can only imagine what he’s thinking.  When Brighton realized what I had done (and that I hadn’t just pretended to throw her out the window) she freaked out. I felt terrible but showed no remorse and Aaron looked at me and mouthed “I can’t believe you just did that!!”

For the rest of the trip her prince Ken doll was my prisoner in the front seat. Every time she started misbehaving the window rolled down just a little bit and out his head went. The rest of the trip was a breeze.