Catch the Wind

And if I say to you tomorrow,
Take a walk through all you’ve seen.
It’s not a castle we have lived in,
And you may never be a queen.

Death eroded your foundation.
Friends and grown ups let you down.
Slapped with the ugly side of humans,
You see a hole where there is ground.
You were too young to learn these lessons,
And in your soul you held the blame.
And dined on to anger for protection,
You fear you’ll never be the same.
But it’s a new year we’re approaching!
Take my hand child come with me.
There is purpose that awaits you
And it’s the life where you will be...
Whatever you choose for your heart’s passion.
I look at you and see the sun.
The world is yours to change and shine on,
Your precious life has just begun.
Catch the wind an let it take you
To a place where you realize
That the past belongs behind you
And like the sun, you too will rise.
And when you wake up with the sunrise
Miles from all you loved and feared.
Without a castle or a crown,
I’m always proud, you persevered.
Because from the ashes we learn lessons,
And from pain, empathy will grow
And from your empathy, you’ll help others.
You’re going change the world, we know.



***A few of the words used in this tribute were written by Jimmy Page and Robert Plant, legends that inspired me since my youth, to ramble on, like I do.

Love & Friendship (Straight Outta Washington)

I had always been free-spirited, but never had a friend
Who didn't see me as defective - I wasn't quite like them.
I'm introspective, introverted, sensitive, it's true
But today I finally realized that it's not me, it's you.
The world's a mess. Misdirected, divided and blind,
Catty, prejudiced, arrogant, unkind.
And I'm becoming way too cynical, skeptical, political
Critical, defensive, offensive, and it's bad. 
I used to be a butterfly, and now I'm f*cking mad. 

2017 - The Year of YOU

May you strive to embrace 
Each day that you live
With heart and with grace -
learn to forge and forgive. 
Start each day with a choice
To let go of the past,
And laugh and rejoice -
Time spins very fast.
Tis the season of giving,
And you always do. 
This year please remember -
Give something to YOU. 

Till The Holidays

'Twas the week before Hanukkah
When all through our home
My children were stirring
I'm never alone :(  
Their books were all scattered,
Their clothes on the floor 
Next to a Whataburger bag 
From the Tuesday before.
We all looked like zombies
From exams, work and plays.
We were counting the minutes
Till the holidays 
When we break from the chaos
And pause for a minute 
To be thankful for each other, our life
And all of you in it.

Wishing you a life lived to the fullest,
Rachelle

Look on the Bright Side - You're White and Pretty

Youngest Child:  Mom, I'm scared. I heard some more things on the bus. What happens if Trump decides he doesn't like Jews?

Me:  We are all going to be fine, baby.  President-Elect Trump has told everyone to stop the bullying. If he does stupid stuff, the grown ups will work hard together to change or fix his mistakes, make sure you are safe, and do better in four years to vote for someone different. Plus presidents hire people way smarter than them to guide them in the right direction.

(Bannon enters stage right)

Netflix and Chill

Getting older changes everything. If you’re under the age of 30, stop reading. Not for you - move along. You won’t understand and will probably laugh at the thought of being old AF like me. But it happens. Out of nowhere. At some point, somewhere, between kids and work and unpaid bills and laundry and ohmygod so much else, your special purpose changes. 

Is there anyone else out there who misses sex? It’s not that I don’t have opportunities, you know, it’s just that when one arises, literally, I’d rather watch One Tree Hill reruns or that new show with Kiefer Sutherland. I so remember when sex was exciting, and the anticipation filled my stomach with butterflies, my heart with pounding, and everything else with Marvin Gaye music. But now, well, I kinda feel that very same way on my drive home from work when I fantasize about after dinnertime, after homework, and after cleaning the kitchen that... I get to do NOTHING. Nothing is the new Sex.

I freaking love doing nothing, and I hate to brag but my stamina is incredible. I could do nothing for days if I didn’t have to work and raise children. Doing nothing makes me feel alive again, energized, glowing, relaxed, beautiful and free. I have toys also, like Netflix, Hulu and Amazon Prime to enhance the experience. I enjoy doing nothing with someone I care about too. The closeness and bonding that goes along with it is lovely. But I also enjoy doing nothing alone. It’s easier as I don’t need to go all the way downstairs to bring up water and snacks and fix my make up, and, quite frankly, I have gotten quite good at it alone. Independence is a healthy part of growing old, I guess.

Getting older changes everything for the worse, and luckily, I have learned, that NOTHING makes it better.

Look Closer

I wish I had a mirror that reflected the inside of a person. The stuff that other people see when they look at you.  There are too many beautiful people that think they are worthless, and too many monsters that think they are God. 



.

Just One Year

I just looked at our children - and started to cry.

Until I thought about it I had no idea why.

It's been just one year, since you've been gone.

Do you know how hard it's been for everyone to go on?

You knew our oldest daughter had moved away.

She has moved back into town. I think she's here to stay.

She has learned hard lessons, and needed you most.

Sits on your dirt for hours, talking to your ghost.

Her hard work and success are so exciting to see.

She's determined just like you - and persevering like me.

And our middle child, wore your clothes every day.

She feared if she moved on that you would fade away.

We went for a road trip and found nature was true.

She let go of fear and sorrow, and still held on to you.

She made straight As in her classes, and varsity cheer. 

You won't believe what she's achieved in just one year.

Our littlest girl - she was so sad and so brave

That I had to hold her back from jumping into your grave. 

She may just be the strongest of the three.

She is funny just like you, and empathetic like me.

In just one year, you won't believe how she grew.

She's got a voice just like an angel flying straight up to you.

And me, my friend, except today,

I've held it all together and I'm doing okay. 

I have so many stories that would fill you with pride.

Guess I have to wait to tell you on the other side.  

  

Children are Ruff

When I arrived at my office building today, I noticed, as the elevator doors closed, a sign that read "Take Your Dog to Work Day." I realized, as the elevator doors opened again, there has never been a "Take Your CHILD to Work Day." I guess everyone knows that children are, well... okay like dogs crap all over the floor and there has still never been a "Take Your Child to Work Day."  

Children are challenging. There should be an Olympic sport for moms called "Whatthefuckjusthappened." The rules are as follows: Stay calm, loving, sane and rational until the finish line. In lieu of a gold medal, the winner is awarded hair dye, hot flashes, and a lovely permanent line indented between her eyebrows. 

Teenagers are relentless. My little Estrogenizer Bunnies just keep going and going and going and it's frightening to my nine year old. She freaked out last week because she cried, and then laughed. That's all. She cried, and then laughed. "I think I have PMS! I think I have PMS!" she ran around the house screaming. As if laughing, then crying were the gateway emotions to hell. They are, unfortunately. They are. And there is nowhere to go but up. 

So up I go, to the seventh floor and I smile a little as the elevator doors open to my office. Because I know I am alone - without dog, without child. Serenity now, with a side of black coffee.  TGIF.

The Gigantic Star

Last night I put Maya, my super stressed out nine year old daughter, to bed. I tucked her in, rubbed her back, and told her a bedtime story. It went something like this...

Once upon a time there was a gigantic star in the sky. It was gazed upon by all and embraced by the people for many different things.

Some revered it and made wishes, and believed they would one day come true.

Some felt it's light would brighten their path in the darkest of times.

Others believed it guided them like a compass, in the direction that would lead them to an extraordinary destination.

Many feared it, for reasons unknown.

But a little girl named Maya knew the undeniable truth. The STAAR was nothing more than a stupid bullshit test. 

The end. You are awesome. STAAR Testing is dumb. Go to sleep. 

#letteachersteach

And She Lived

I screwed up as a mother. Again.

Last week, I had to miss Maya's open house to go to Sam's cheer meeting so I rescheduled the open house only to miss that one too because I had to stay late at work as I was behind from missing time to take the kids to the dentist. Maya was sad at me. Maya was mad at me. I had a plan, you see? And awry it went. 

To redeem myself, I took her to see the new Cinderella movie. We got large Icees, I learned how to put a straw in the self serve butter to get perfect popcorn, and found great seats. I was pretty confident I was out of the dog house until BAM - I messed up again. This time royally. Five minutes into the movie, Cinderella's mother fell ill and I realized what was about to happen next. I looked at Maya and said "Let's get out of here, Cinderella's mom is about to die." She said "No. I thought about this after Dad died. Princesses usually lose one or both parents. It's okay." "So, you've determined that you're a princess? Is that why you're so pretty." I asked. To which she replied, "Ya," then took my popcorn. 

After the movie, she asked, "What is the point of being a princess anyway? You always tell me there is no such thing as happily ever after." We sat on the bench and I thought for a minute. "You will live joyfully, mournfully, fearfully, painfully, hopefully, anxiously AND happily ever after. There is no way around it. Life is not always pretty. It is not always fun. HOWEVER... the good news is, at the end of the day you really do get to make out with the prince." "Ewwww!" she said laughing. "But what if he dies?" "Then you squeeze your kids. I love to squeeze my kids!" I said. "I really don't think I want kids though, unless I adopt." she said. "Then you'll get some cats. You'll kiss the cats. You'll squeeze the cats. You get the point?" "Ya," she said. "With cats, I will live happily ever after." 

Once upon a time, I screwed up as a mother. And even still, my Maya, I think she's going to be just fine. And live her wonderful imperfect life to the fullest. And maybe even pass on my wisdom and humor to her own children. Named Fluffy and Cupcake. The end. 

She Knows

There’s a lady who’s sure

All who laugh soon will cry.

All who live one day die.

All who fly often fall

And with no warning at all

All that’s bright turns to black

And there’s no turning back

Because this fate bestowed to her

Also makes her quite sure...

That is life.

But she’s also quite sure...

All that shines is the sun

And that work can be fun

And her children may run,

But they run through her soul

And that makes her feel whole.

Her true friends are quite merry

And it all seems so very

Trite yet so true

That along with her fear

Is that which makes her fly.

So she rings in the new year

With a tear in her eye

Mixed with grit and misgiving...

It's all part of living. 

The Redirection

As most of you know, my ex-husband, father of my kids, and my best friend for half my life died in August. Undeniably, for me, the most unendurable part of Brian's death is witnessing the pain that my children carry with them, and realizing that they will carry it with them for the rest of their lives. We deal with each issue as it arises and I'm learning that humor, used as a redirection, rather than logic, is the only thing that helps alleviate some of that pain. And that makes me perfect for the job.  Challenge accepted. 

Attempted Logic:
The kids had to make their final trip to Brian's house to pack up and remove the remainder of their belongings as the house is going up for sale. Maya said that it was rough, and that it brought back too many memories. When she got home, she said that she feels like she keeps losing things, and asked me to start driving her to school in the mornings.

Maya: Mom, pleeeease don't make me take the bus next week!
Me: Sorry baby, I have to get to work on time, plus I have pep squad carpool. 
Maya: Daddy always took me to school on his days. I will never have a ride to school again! I miss my daddy!
Me (attempting to hug her as she squirms away): Your daddy is always with you in your heart, honey, and I can take you another day, but not next week. Besides, all your friends will be on the bus. You always sit next to your best friend, so it should be fun!
Maya: How much fun did you have riding your stupid pteradactyl to school?!?! (Marches out-slams door-yells something that sounded Russian.)
FAIL

Attempted Humor:
On Friday, we headed off to a high school football game. Samantha was performing at half time, the weather was Friday night lights perfect, we had our bellies full of Ben & Jerry's cotton candy ice cream (The kind with real pieces of cotton candy inside!), and life was good. And then it was not. 

On the sidelines, the cheerleaders got to perform with their dads. The fathers and daughters laughed and hugged and acted silly. Maya got quiet, held her head high and her face started to quiver. She tried to force her tears to withdraw from public scrutiny, and succeeded. 

Maya: Mother, is it some sort of a family legacy that I have to be a cheerleader?"

Me:  No way. Please do something different.

Maya:  Good. Because I am tired of people asking where my father is and having to tell them that he's dead, and then they ask me more questions.

Me: Not a problem! Next time anyone asks where your father is, simply lie and tell them your mother is a lesbian! I promise they will have no more questions after that. They'll just smile and walk away. 

Maya: Can I really?!?!

Me: Anything for you, kid. And if they are politically correct folks, they will also give you a pat on the back and say "How nice!" and then walk away. 

Maya (finally laughing): Thank you lesbian mom!! But what if a five year old asks me about Dad and doesn't know what a lesbian is?

Me:  Tell her your dad's a squirrel and he is busy in the tree playing with his nuts.

Maya (Gives me that look, you know, the one where I know I've gone too far again): Organizing his nuts, Mom. He always liked to clean. 

Me:  Sure - much better. Perfect.

Maya (big hug): You're the best mom ever!

NAILED IT!

I believe that all people, not just young ones, need a little redirection some times. There are many different tools that people use for redirection. Some use sex, some use alcohol, some use vacations, and some use a sense of humor. I find that humor is best because it will not get you pregnant, give you a hangover, or cost a lot of money. Ironically though, it was a sense of humor that helped to redirect me after the shock of finding out that I was pregnant after too much alcohol during my trip to South Padre. That's right, Julia was the result of multiple redirections! And I've gone too far again. Sorry... Let's redirect once more... 

Dear parents, HUMOR simply works! Even if your kids don't laugh with you, they will laugh at you, or tweet whatever dumb thing you said so their friends will laugh at you, or simply get annoyed that you even consider yourself funny. And if any of those things happen, you have successfully redirected them out of whatever black hole they fell into. I truly believe that a sense of humor is the key to a happy marriage, lasting friendships, and, if my kids are telling me the truth (which is a 70-30 chance, give or take), it is also the key to being an awesome parent.  

IN MEMORY OF BRIAN PATRICK ABELOW...

An awesome parent, whose legacy is the laughter he left behind to fill the empty hearts of those who miss him dearly. Because he was one funny dude!

The Present

Tonight something cool happened. I had a rare 45 minutes alone in the house, and I danced like an 80s white girl around the kitchen in my underwear to Erasure, to get ready for the concert on Sunday, while making a cake for the AHS premier gathering on Wednesday. And somewhere during that process, I climbed out of the crap I was buried in, and I felt just fine. How strange is it that a musical trip to the past while looking forward to stuff in the future can lead me back to the present? The present is the only place that a person can truly live, with a sprinkle of remembrance of the past and a dash of an eye toward the future.  My problem, Reader, is that I am always thinking and I tend to live in my head, instead of out in the real world. It feels more comfortable in there but I know it keeps me from really living. Because life is not comfort, it is actually something closer to pain. There is no perfect life, but there are moments in our life, like the one I had tonight, where everything is just fine. And it is in these moments that I feel joy, that the sun shines a little brighter, that I know that life is worth the struggle, that I feel hope and excitement for the future, and that I realize if I'm going to dance around the kitchen in my underwear, I really need to buy curtains. 

Life is too short, dear Reader. Don't stop L-I-V-I-N-G. Hold on to the moments. They are a present that you'll only find in the present.   

EPILOGUE: I never know if people "get" me, or have the same experiences as I do, so I asked a guy friend if men have those moments, like the ones I wrote about, where everything is just fine.  He said, "Not really, we have porn." Well! Guess I can't write for everyone. Stay gold Porneyboy, and thanks again to all of you who "get" me - keep laughing.

Good Grief

Maya (my 8 year old):  I'm sorry you're so angry all the time.

Me:  I'm not angry all the time. Why would you think that?

Maya:  Because you go to a therapist.

Me:  I go because I am sad and confused and want to learn how to be a good mom because you  are sad and confused too.

Maya: Well that's stupid. Then why do they call it a "thera pissed?"

Baby Mine

Dear Julia,

Sometime yesterday, after your sister said she hated you, and then you called her an asshole, and then I yelled at everyone, and then you slammed the door and drove off, I began missing you.

I don't know why I feel so broken right now. I've been crying since you left. There is still one week to go until you drive off for good, leaving the nest, my arms and our little family, to head off across the world, to San Marcos, Texas. 

I do know that I am proud of you because when I was your age I didn't have much self esteem, I didn't make good choices, I didn't help my parents with anything, I didn't like grown ups because I was nowhere near being a grown up, I didn't know what I wanted, I didn't like to work hard. I was nothing like you. But still, the feeling that I made too many mistakes is killing me, because I am out of time to teach you, and you are out of patience to listen. The fact that we now have a close relationship seems short of a miracle.

It was during the divorce that I lost you. You blamed me at first until you were old enough to figure it out on your own. The beginning of the end, though, was when you were around 12 and we had that brief cancer scare when your semi-neurotic mother noticed those lumps on you, which were quickly diagnosed as growing boobs. The side effects of growing boobs, oddly, caused extreme moodiness. Although I'm sure there were more, my last memory of laughter with you back then was when you taught me the Soulja Boy dance in 6th grade. After that, you pulled away. Everything was kept a secret from me like the undetectable internet you downloaded onto my computer, the boys you didn't want me to know about, the clothes you snuck out of the house to change into at school, and the out of town trips you took in your car without permission. I want you to know, as you enter the big world as an adult, you now have my permission to have a MySpace account, date boys, dress like a hoochie, and drive wherever you want without having "The Club" steering wheel lock ground your car.  

I feel like I made mistakes with you where I was too strict in some areas and too lenient in others, especially after the divorce and fallout that followed. I was too overwhelmed to do a great job and I am out of chances to do better. I am afraid that the reason you are so tough is because your life was too hard. I am afraid you are so sensitive because your feelings were hurt too much. I am afraid that the reason you date mean boys is because I didn't divorce soon enough. I am afraid that you fight with your sisters because I didn't have enough time to give you the attention you wanted. I am afraid you listen to that horrible music because you have some hearing problem I never followed up on.

I am afraid you will move away and not need me anymore.  That last one is the worst fear of all, because in the last few years you became my best friend again. I cannot bear losing you twice.

So, lose you I will not as I have decided that in lieu of sending you money when you leave, I will make you earn it by coming to visit at a rate of $20 per hour of quality time. Not a joke.  Make arrangements in advance.

I learned everything there is to know about love the day you were born. I hope you are grateful that I didn't include a single quote from Dr. Seuss' "Oh, The Places You'll Go" this time. I will instead leave you with a unique yet poignant quote from one of your favorite rappers, Wiz Khalifa:

"Damn I need yo love like a weed stick. Bein' wit out you is like Kathy no Regis."

But still, I'll say goodbye...

Love, 

Mom 

The Aliens

I know many people don't believe that beings from other planets have visited Earth, but I do. I wrote an argumentative paper about it once, but lacked substantial proof.  I have that now.

An alien has taken over the brain of my sweet young teenager.  I am still collecting data, but all I know for sure is that this creature is a dick. 

Update- study halted as creature appears to have vacated the premises.  My sweet child is safe!

Update- it is back again. This time with more ammunition. The language barrier apparently frustrates it as it keeps repeating "You don't understand! Go away!" I will patiently attempt to continue communication. I believe this creature phones home often as it becomes agitated if I move near cell phone. My timeline shows correlation to a certain period of the lunar calendar. I believe it has aging powers as my hair is beginning to grey. This creature will stop at nothing to prove that its intelligence supersedes mine. Chocolate, cash and my absence seems to appease it temporarily. 

Parents, please keep your daughters safe.  I will cautiously continue my research. 

Fine Dining

While I was dining at an adorable new restaurant the other day, the darling little girl who owned the restaurant came and sat with me when my food arrived. She told me about her life - how she was a famous singer and decided to take a break from it all to open a restaurant. I learned so much from talking to her.  How the simple life of owning a restaurant was more enjoyable than being perpetually on the road; that when fans recognize her she finds it annoying but knows that she wouldn't have been famous without her fans; that the reason all of the food she serves is blue is because she couldn't find the other containers of play-doh; and that I ruin everything when I accidentally call her Maya. She told me that her husband was famous too and that his name was Justin Timberlane. She shared with me that it was very sad to be away from him so much as he was always away on tour. I asked her if it was also hard on their marriage, with him being away and with girls flirting with him. She said, "No way! We have a STRONG marriage!" I asked my wise 8 year old what the secret was to a strong marriage, and she said, "That's easy. When you ask each other for something, always say "Okay." I was a bit disappointed at the answer.  Not only because if true, that would be impossible for someone like me, but also because I had hoped I hadn't raised my kid to be mousy. So I asked, "Well, what if you have big plans and he asks you to clean the house, sweep the chimney and scrub the floors????" "I would say 'OKAY' of course." she laughed and said "Then I would call a maid!" While I sat at my table feeling relief and a little bit of concern for Mr. Timberlane, she charged $7,489.25 to my credit card and told me to have a nice day. 

Black or White 2.0

Totally unrelated to my previous entry...

I bought a new charger for my iPhone. Apparently, the black iPhone chargers are three times longer than the white ones. True story. 

Black or White

Well, hello there! I haven't been writing much.  My book is on hold.  My blog's getting old.  I have been, instead, focusing my energy on other meaningful activities that truly make me a better person: contemplating world peace, followed by shopping and Netflix. 

The perfect combination of Season 8 of How I Met Your Mother, Season 3 of Scandal, coupled with active efforts to eliminate human malignancy then a trip to the mall propels me to the platform necessary for me to combat bigotry, hatred, and mean people in general in a single bound.  This is me, in bed, armed with a laptop and credit card debt, sending out a plea to all of you to be kind to one another.  

I have been exposed to many hateful and toxic people in my life. Men who feel superior, and women who feel inferior - acting out by trying to make others feel small, spraying the people around them like crazed tomcats so they feel big, and to avoid confronting their own inner conflict and emotions. Hate spreads like a virus from person to person.  Be aware of your words.  Be aware of how your choices affect others. Be harmless. Be careful what you put out in the world. Hate is contagious, and in groups, often deadly.

My middle child claims she only hates three things:  the emu, Stitch from "Lilo and Stitch" and dragonflies.  She is not sure why she hates emus, but when she was four, Stitch, at the Disney parade, pretended to pick his nose and flick a booger at her. It's time for her to get past that, but the dragonflies - they are everywhere and according to her, "They climb on top of each other, fly around attached, then land on me. They stare straight at me Mom, and I'm not stupid,  I know what they're doing!"  Fair enough.

Despite all of my efforts, however, to teach my kids to love all people equally, and to judge them by who they are in their hearts, I was not able to get through to my oldest child. She judges people by the color of their skin. And will only date black boys. Technically she's a racist if she never goes back, right? 

My youngest child emits a ton of pure love and joy into the world.  At our recent trip to Disney, she twirled around in her Elsa dress and exclaimed, "Look at me! I'm a damsel in this dress!" She declared constantly that, "ALL MY DREAMS HAVE COME TRUE!" The only thing she hates, really, are zombies.  Last night she dreamt that zombies had broken into our house and were trying to eat us.  I held her in my arms, stroked her hair gently, and reminded her that ALL HER DREAMS COME TRUE! That last sentence never happened.  I think it's time to stop writing.

As I move on to Orange is the New Black dear reader, I leave you with a suggestion to take the time to understand yourself, understand your aggression, and work through it until you are able to practice empathy.  If you cannot, talk to someone who can help you. Only then will you be able to understand those around you. You may be surprised to find that everything isn't black or white.  

Life is a Fractured Fairy Tale

The thing they never tell you is that people break like bones. Sometimes wholly. Sometimes only when the weather changes. But sometimes your life, your essence, your reality has a limp that stays with you for keeps. The people around you may notice, often slightly, but occasionally undeniably, that you are defective. Many will have words, gods, potions or platitudes to mute the wound so that no one has to hear any more about it.  And others, they just stay away. All believe they have the answers, that is, until they break too, unlike you, but just the same. 

Beautiful, Hopeful and Dark is Life, Frankly

Lonely morning sunshine 

Glides along the unhappy window.

Fresh, pure freedom within.

Missing happiness and nature.

Strong belief exists in sleep.

God's depth climbed up to the heavens.

Someone's lovely wishes blow outside. 

Written By: Samantha Abelow, age 13

Using only words found in Anne Frank's diary

The Test

"I don't understand why we still have to go to math and English the rest of the year. The STAAR test is over!" said my exhausted daughter on the way to school this morning. 

Despite having intelligent, caring and creative educators to teach my child what she needs to know, the message of why she needs to know remains safely tucked away deep in the heart of Texas.

The fact that there are people who believe that passing this test was my child's crowning moment truly upsets me. Everyone knows she came out of the box a long time ago.

Used Car

There is no analogy for dealing with car salesman that doesn't entail half of the word analogy. 

Oh, Miley

Dear Concerned Parents,

You are too freaked out about the dangers of your teen attending the Miley Cyrus concert!     

When I was younger, I went to an AC/DC concert and didn't take the Highway to Hell. I went to a Van Halen concert and David Lee Roth's backless pants didn't make me promiscuous. Ronnie James Dio did not turn me into a War Pig. Ozzy Osborne did not propel me to urinate on the Alamo. The Red Hot Chili Peppers concert did not make me rock with a sock on my cock. And the Erasure concert didn't make me a Victim of Love. Or super gay. Madonna did, however, make me wear a fake mole on my face and a bunch of bracelets for about a year. And the Cheap Trick concert taught me to Surrender without giving myself away. And even though Triumph told me that I've got the Magic Power of the music in me, I believed Rush, and always chose Free Will. Tommy Tutone apparently had the greatest influence over my brain as I still, on occasion, feel compelled to call Jenny's number.  But I am still Jewish after Depeche Mode begged me to get my own personal Jesus. And also, sadly to date, after attending two Aerosmith concerts I have yet to experience Love In An Elevator.  And I turned out okay. 

You have worked hard and have done a wonderful job with your kids, parents.  Let them enjoy the music of their generation! Even if you don't understand it. 

Sincerely, 

Jessie's Girl 

Ronnie James Dio circa 1980s

Spring Break

My 18 year old is off to South Padre Island for Spring Break. As this is her first big road trip that she has actually told me about, I wanted to give her parenting advice that she would listen to, without getting upset with me.

Now, pay attention parents:

Incorporating stupid little emojis in a text message will miraculously transform your annoying and condescending message into an adorable fun-filled message.  She read my entire message:

To which she replied (emoji included):

Mission accomplished!

Learn to speak the language of this new strange generation. And they will listen. 

And that being said, listening and doing are sadly two different things. When I was 18, I was on the road to California. Because I thought I was Jack Karouak.  FML. 

I am now left with nothing more than my "Karma is a Bitch" emoji. 

And perhaps this one too. 

Wishing you and your kids a fun and safe spring break, and don't forget to talk to your children, not at them. They just may listen.  

The Munchkin Games

I think it is very important to teach your children survival skills. Mine can create meals from what little is in the pantry before payday, coerce their teachers into extra credit when they are failing, and steal each other's clothes without detection. 

As a single mom with three daughters, my children have also learned a skill that I call "Survival of the Sweetest," which sport is also know as "The Munchkin Games." 

Most recently, after growing bored of being my center of attention during graduation, Eldest Child, when asked to clean her room, committed a technical foul which got her ass ejected from the game, and sent straight to her room.

Youngest Child quickly went to work at the free throw line and created the following, once again reclaiming her position as MVP: 

She has learned to use cuteness as a weapon, and armed with only 1,10023 exquamashon marx in her love letter, she found herself victorious. A slam dunk was made by combining true love and a drawing of me with thin arms, while skillfully omitting the thighs altogether. 

Unfortunately, Middle Child, in a flawless stealth-like rebound, slept all day after a late night sleepover and took the lead by proving to be The Quiet Child, earning herself a three point trip to the mall without her sisters. The old "Seen and Not Heard" move is a timeless Munchkin Games classic, which is always appreciated, especially when mom has a headache.

In an effort to get back in the game in the fourth quarter, Eldest Child agreed to clean her room, but let the team down by taking a nap instead. Even though she is my Allstar, she will be benched the next two games, and, if she continues to play poorly, could possibly become a free agent or traded for a hamster.

It's a well known fact that reading, writing and arithmetic can only get you so far in this kid eat kid world. If you want to survive, respect your grown ups! 

Let the Munchkin Games begin! May the odds be ever in your favor! And don't forget: A brown nose will get you a gold star every time.

Throwback Thursday

It was not easy for me being a mom of three. When my third was born, I was lost, confused, somewhat abused, overwhelmed and underappreciated.

Luckily, I learned the secret to true happiness:  A SENSE OF HUMOR!

Please forgive me Maya. But in all fairness, you did keep me up all night and change my bra size.