I wasn't going to write about this. Not yet, at least. Then my friend Kelly from Excitement on the Side wrote a great post on Angelina Jolie's decision to have a double mastectomy and I was certain  that I didn't need to write about it. I had nothing to add. She did a great job.  Then I began reading the comments. And tweets and general ass hat-ery on Facebook.  Like this....

 I would like to say a GIANT "FUCK YOU!" to all those posted above. AND THIS IS WHY...

I've had a doctor look me in the eye and say, "It's cancer" 

It's just as fucked up as you think it would be. There is a moment, scratch that, hours where there is nothing but white noise. Fog. No ability to hear or even see. There is an echo in your brain that keeps saying, "You are going to die". There is a nothingness that consumes you. A quiet. I can't even describe it right. It is its own void. A vacuum. Your face is frozen. Your voice isn't actually your voice. Your movements are purely functional. There is no real sound. You are going to die. 

My doctor held me by the shoulders. "Let me call someone for you", she said. Silence. Blank. Just blank.

"I'll just go to my mom", I finally said. "I'll go to my mom. It's ok. She's home. I know she's home", I said. And my doctor took her phone number down to be sure that I reached her. She lived just ten minutes away. She asked me to call her before I left. 

"Mom? <silence> Something bad, mom. I want to come over. OK? I'm coming over right now. Ok? Mama?"

I left out of the back door of the office. My doctor hugged me, so tight,  and promised that she was going to guide me through kicking this Cancer out of my body. She kept saying that I could "do this" that it was "early" and that I would "beat it". 

I thought to myself, 'I am going to die". Over and over again.

She opened the back door of the office. My keys in my hands felt like bricks. My feet, numb. My eyes, so blurry.  I remember thinking that this must be the way all women leave this office when they are told they have cancer or that they have miscarried or some other horrifying news. "This is the easy way out. So that no one sees the pain", I thought to myself. No one knows this kind of fear. It goes out the back door. 

I reached my car. I turned the keys. It hit me. My mom! I have to get to her!

I drove straight to her. I had no idea that there was anything else that I could do. I needed her. I needed her to tell me that I wasn't going to die. I will never forget the feeling of her words whispered in my ear as I sobbed into her breast. 

"You are NOT going to die. You. Are. Not. I swear to you, my love. You will NOT"  

Her words  saved me. I said to her in a voice almost inaudible, "Mommy, I am so scared. I don't want to die. Mommy, I'm so scared." 

"You will not. You won't."

She held me in her arms for so long. I never wanted her to let me go. I felt safe. I felt like she could take away the word. Cancer. Fucking CANCER. She could destroy it. She is my mama. She can take this away. Please, mama, take this away. 

I was 30 but I felt like I was 9. Her arms created a bubble of protection that is only possible from a mother to her child. And in that moment I trusted her. It was easy. She made me believe. She made me believe that I wasn't going to die.

Before my final surgery, I knew that this was "it". If they couldn't get the cancer, my dreams of being a mother naturally were over. Because the next surgery would mean a radical hysterectomy. My anxiety had me in a vice grip. I was suffocating the morning I walked into the hospital. I could not breath. I lay in the bed with my brave face on and my mom came to me. She held my hand and said to me, "They will get it. They will." 

I wasn't so sure. My brothers were there. My dad. My grandparents and my godmother. All there to tell me that it was going to be ok. All I could think was "What if I die. What if it's too late? Oh my God, am I dying and I just don't know it yet?"   

They hugged me and held me and joked with me and smiled at me and kissed me and promised me that no matter what, we would kick this Cancer's ass. I wanted to believe. Then I was under. When I came to, the anxiety came flying back with amazing speed. There was no forgetting. Not even in an anesthesia haze. 

I was to wait for 2-5 days for the results. 

I was lucky. SO FUCKING LUCKY. I came through. They got it. I wept so many tears. Releasing the throat gripping fear. Rejoicing the margins but unable still to wrap my head around the fact that they found fucking CANCER in my body. Unsure that they were right when they said it was gone. What if they were wrong? What if they missed something? Happy that I could still carry children. Unsure that I would. Praying that I really could. Knowing that if any ONE of the tests (every 90 days) came back even slightly off, the next surgery meant the end of my dreams for motherhood the way I wanted. Not because my doctor would force me to have a hysterectomy, but because I wanted to live and to have peace of mind. That was the next step. Take my legs, arms, a kidney and my breasts. Take my uterus and my hair, Dye my skin purple. Whatever it takes. Just do it. JUST TAKE THE CANCER RISK AWAY. Away from me. From my LIFE. 

So I come to this post, with some anger and sadness over the bullshit I have read on these here internets about Angelina Jolie's  decision to have a double mastectomy because she carried the BRCA 2 gene. And I am more than incensed at those of you waxing like you know what you would do in that situation.  Making some kind of joke about it or pretending you know what it's like. Let me tell you from someone who knows what it is like to hear "You have cancer" from a doctor that they trust. The only thing you are thinking is "get it out" and "do what you have to do" That's it. If it means you take my boobs, my uterus and my legs, then do it. They are things. They are not all of me. 

To those so willing to joke at her expense or to judge her for some imagined slight against the common woman, please listen up. You most definitely DO NOT know shit unless you have been in her shoes. Or mine. I live every day knowing (waiting?), for the day I will have to say goodbye to my uterus and ovaries. I will say goodbye to them without a thought or regret because I want to be here. I want to live. I want my children to not have to bury their mama before her time. I want to live this life with my beloved husband for as long as I can. I want to be here. And I suspect that is all that Angelina wants, too. Not because she is a celebrity and wants publicity but because she is a woman and a mother and a wife and she wants to live her life and be here for her children. I get that. And if you do not get that and are busy judging her (or me) for "mutilating" her body, well then I say to you that I sincerely hope you are never in the position to have to make that decision. I really do. Because it would mean that your life is on the line. I wish that on no one. Not even assholes on the internet. 

Please let go of your positions. Let go of your opinions and ideas and assumptions. Stop  arguing the decision that Angelina Jolie made for her body. I promise you that you  just. do . not. know. 

And I hope you never do. I really do. 

It's been such a rough week. I have no other wisdom this week than to please love each other and to always remember that the world is good in so many ways. People are good. Life is good. Love is good. Be kind to each other and to yourself. Not just when tragedy strikes, but every day. Hug some more people today.

Oh and this here Coca-Cola commercial? It made me cry my eyes out. I cried the love tears. It just might be the most inspiring soft drink advertisement of all time. I thought I'd share it here with you. Have a watch and have a smile...Happy Sunday.

*Sunday's Pearl is something kind of like wisdom wrapped up in an  idea or random bit of something or another. It might be something awesome, something awful or a lesson that I learned during the week. Every Sunday I put that lesson here. Let my wisdom words inspire or frighten you. xoxox, Mama Pants *

Do you remember the old days when you were tagged in a post on Facebook and had to answer 25 random questions? Or give your top 20 vocalists of all time? Or the top 10 most influential albums in your life? Yep. me, too. And Elaine over at The Miss Elaine-ous Life did a recent post going back to those old school blogger roots. So in good form (and after 2 cocktails that night),  I harassed her on Twitter and in the comment section of her blog to tag me (I wanted to do one too! Wah!!! Why wasn't I tagged!) Well, Elaine is a sugar. She tagged me. And I'm going to pretend it's because she wanted to and not because I pestered her like Elmo does those poor babies.

So here are my two lists. The one on the left  I pulled from my Facebook notes from February 2009 ( Yeah I forgot all of those gems where there too. And they are Pre-Pants and Plum!) and a whole new one on the right. I think it speaks volumes to the fact that I haven't changed at all. I'm still ridiculous. I still love Steelers football and eating.  And I'm still a huge supporter of the color red.  Please love me.  And then play along in the comments! Enjoy!

In following the grand tradition I shall now tag some people that I want to play along. You can do the same lists that I did or do completely different lists. You can decide to not do a list at all. No pressure. It wouldn't hurt my feelings at all. I'm serious. I'm not sensitive. Ok, that's a lie. I'm a bit sensitive but I won't be mad. I think. No, no I really won't. Don't worry. Ok, so I might. But I will get over it. Please don't unfriend me on Facebook while I process the hurt.. IT WILL PASS. I'm just telling you how I feel. I love you. Was that too much? It might have been too much. Forgive me.

Let's go back and try again. If you don't do it, it will be fine by me.  Truly. xoxoxo.

Consider it, Kelly? What about you, Jenn? JoEllen! What say you? Hayley, you know you want to! Molley, you are dying to do this, right? And finally Karen....Let's do this Karen.

If I didn't tag you and you want in on this Motown Philly, just yell at me in the comments or on Twitter or on Facebook. I will apologize profusley, beg your forgivness and tag the what what out of you. Yes I will. 

                                Don't forget to go see Elaine, too. She started this whole ball of awesome rolling....

I know I'm not a give-away blog. And I'm not going to become one but I've been thinking about how you read this blog faithfully and how you say nice things all the time or make a comment on a post that makes me laugh and I've come to think that maybe I might say thank you beyond crying the happy tears on my keyboard and trying to come up with the words that actually convey how grateful I am for you. So then I was all, "Hold up! I could do a reader appreciation day or something!" and when I tried to make sense of what that would actually mean, I started to shake with fear and decided to just give away a Starbucks card! Because that is EASY! And everyone loves SOMETHING at Starbucks, right? Because, as you know, coffee is important. And so is iced lemon pound cake, my friends.

Sooooo....

The rules are simple. You've gotta like our Facebook page. That's the mandatory entry. Because my original idea was to just give it out to a Facebook fan but then I got a secret message from a super sweet blogger telling me that Ye Old Facebook laid the smack down on people doing giveaways on their pages. Legal shiz and stuff. So I had to bring it here.  See I really don't have any clue what I'm doing sometimes! I'm not just blowing smoke! The entries end on Friday and then this handy dandy Rafflecopter site will select a random entry to win! You can earn additional entries by commenting or following us on Twitter too! Just fill out the form and cross your fingers. I hope you win!

Every night before bed, I lay with my baby boy and tuck him in. We say a simple blessing that I wrote for us. It's a modified version of the prayer that my mom said with us as children before bed.  And just a few weeks ago, Mr. Pants began saying it with me.

"Now I lay me down to sleep, I pray the world will soon know peace. If my dreams should bring me fright, take me safe to morning light."

We ask for blessings for the people that we love and wish goodnight to the ones we can no longer hold or see. He tells me he loves me and I kiss his forehead. It's all very precious until he starts his list again. Goodnight cookies! Goodnight Hulk! I love you, apple juice! So on Friday evening as I tucked him in, I spent a whole lot longer than normal just staring at him and telling him that I love him. He eventually looked up at me and said, "Its ok, mama. You go out. I go night-night now"

He kicked me out. He didn't know that the day was a horrible day. To him it was any other night and I was lingering. I was breaking the routine. He goes to bed by himself now. So I left knowing that I'd return once he was asleep to kiss him again and watch him breathe. His adorable belly rising and falling. I knew I'd come back to soak up my living breathing loving baby boy as he slept. Just like countless parents across the world did that night.

When I returned to his room, I was overwhelmed with my love for him. My tears were hot on my cheeks as I tried not to wake him but was not ready to stop seeing him just yet. I silently said the blessing in my head. "I pray the world will soon know peace" and I added blessings and love to those suffering the unimaginable horror of losing their babies be they 6 years old or 56.

I prayed hard. For peace. Mostly for peace to come to hearts of those whose lives are now irrevocably changed but also for peace for all of us. Peace in our hearts to send our kids to school this week. Peace to calm our fears.

I prayed for answers. Please help them come before he is old enough to understand that gunmen sometime step into schools and carry out nightmares and bring despair. He has no understanding of such heart tearing things. He is unscarred. Beautifully unaware.

I want to freeze time and never allow that to change. Never allow the darkness to touch them. I want to change the world. I want to fix all of this. And I want to cry. Because my babies are becoming more aware of the world around them with each passing day.  There is so much to do. So so much to do that it feels impossible.

But I can do things. I can use my life to help. To try. And the only way I know how to do that is to simply start. To begin. To build community and to love other people. To be that for my kids so that they learn it from me. To go beyond my yard and help. There was a quote circulating on Friday as news broke of the sheer horror inside Sandy Hook School. It was from Mr. Rogers on talking to children about tragedy.  

He is so right.

If we look around the helpers are everywhere. I found one recently in the website HopeMob. I will write more about them this week and I hope to bring their message to this blog regularly. I am joining up. Not just for now but for the long haul. HopeMob gives every single penny that you donate to exact person or persons you donate them to. They raise money to feed the hungry or to pay people's medical bills. They raise money to help families grieve without worrying about funeral costs. Right now they are raising money for the first responders to Sandy Hook Elementary school. They are providing meals to them as they navigate this painful time processing the things they've witnessed. They are helpers. They are changing the world. Check them out. And if you are able to help, please consider sending a few dollars to one of their campaigns if it speaks to you. They take no overhead and they are verified and audited. They are the real deal.

Real people helping real people.

Well it's late and I need to go slip into bed next to my baby girl and whisper our blessing to her. I'm sure that I will spend more time than usual staring at the beauty of her breathing and the twitch of her pinky finger as she dreams. I will say a prayer for her and for everyone that the world will soon know peace. I will say a prayer for all of us. 

Goodnight, my friends.   

My heart hurts and I know yours does too. I know in my bones that you ache the same way that I do for the mommies and daddies and families of the precious babies killed at Sandy Hook Elementary School. You are stuck, like I am, on the horrifying moments at the end of their precious lives. Hoping beyond hope that they were not scared and that right now as I type this, they are in a better and more beautiful place than this hard and cold and uncivilized world.  You want to hold their parents and tell them that it will be ok. But you know in your skin that it is not. That it cannot be ok. You want to take some portion of the their pain and absorb it for them. You want to scream into the air "WHY!?!?!? Why babies? Who fucking does this???" But there is nothing we can do. Nothing can change the horror that blew up our news feeds yesterday. Nothing can be done to fix it. It is done. And the pain rippled through the entire nation.

Last night I tucked my hearts into bed. I sang them songs and we said our nightly blessing. I spent a really long time just looking at them and touching them and kissing them until they became annoyed with me. I stepped away from all electronics yesterday because my urge was to play with and just be with my children. And for yesterday, for me, it was all I could do. It was how I could help. But that was yesterday. And now here I am, they are still sleeping this morning and I need to write out my heart. Now I need to talk about what we can do. How can we heal? How can we stop this from happening ever again?  And why haven't we figured this out yet?

I've written about this before. Because yesterday is not the first day that children have been killed in their schools. And it takes my breath away to say it out loud, but it won't be the last.

Friends, it won't be the last. So what do we do? How do we stop the next mass killing? If we knew that we would have done it, right?

The White House issued a statement yesterday  along the lines of "today isn't the day to talk about gun control" and while I have deep respect for our President and rallied for him all year to be re-elected, I disagree. Strongly. To me, it is the exact right time to talk about what can be done to prevent babies from being killed in their schools by raging lunitics. Don't get me wrong, I'm not syaing that gun control will fix everything. There are factors and factors and more factors and questions and answers and what ifs and strategies and policies and basic human unpredicatability all sitting at the table on this one. But at the head of that table sits a mentally ill person with weapons. Specifically guns. And that guy,  is the guy that walked into Sandy Hook school yesterday and into the movie theater in Aurora and onto the Virginia Tech campus and in that MacDonalds in California and that cafeteria in Texas and into Columbine High School and the NY imigration office. And on and on and on. We have to start with THAT GUY because he is the problem.

So we have to talk about guns. We just have to. We need to put aside our bullshit positions on the far left and far right and meet at the table. We have to make the representatives of our government sit down at the freaking table. What kind of people are we that we see these things happening over and over again but resign oursleves to not talking about guns because well, wait, what are the reasons?

We have to start. And we have to start because we have all had enough.

I'm not saying it's possible to end violence, although I have some ideas on that too, but I am saying that we can end children being murdered in their schools. We start by opening our front door and stepping out. We start by picking up the phone and calling our senators and representatives in Congress. We start by reaching out and connecting with people who are hurting. We start by genuinely giving a shit about our neighbors and their kids. We start by being present enough in our own life to be present in the lives of others too. We start by demanding the government to hear us. We start by supporting agencies that reach out to the sick and mentally ill.

We start with these things and then we don't STOP.  That is the key. We are angry now. We are horrified and sick to our stomachs over what happened yesterday. We are tearful and raw and we want to DO something. But we cannot stop doing them. We cannot forget to keep working the problem even when the news cycle has moved on.

So here are some ideas. Places to start. Places to place your energy or your money. I have contacted my representatives through email. I will call them today. I will also use this blog regularly to discuss and advocate that we never leave the table. Instead of gifts for me and the husband, we will be giving money to organizations that can help. That's what I have so far for us.

Now what about you?

Below there are agencies that need your money or your time or your influence. There are people to call and letters to write. There are things to do. We can change lives and heal broken hearts. And while none of us are big enough to do it alone, we are big enough to change one life. We can help. And we are big enough to spur our government into action. No more sitting back. We cannot sit back anymore. 

Let's change the world. One person at a time.

Join up.

Call or visit these programs, sites or agencies and see where they need help.

I never respond to chain mail. Mostly because I'm lazy. And I never share those Facebook posts that tell you that you suck if you don't share them. You know the ones that say that only one percent of people will share them because they are the only decent human beings in existance? Well except for this one. I totally did share this one...

Anyhoo, it would seem I have been caught.

See, Lillian over at It's A Dome Life tagged me in a chain blog. Dun dun duuuun. I love her. She's an amazing painter and a mama and an all-around awesome person. We've become bloggy friends.  So when she tagged me in her recent post listing her five wishes for Christmas, I knew I'd do it. It's kind of right up my alley. My sappy, dreamy spread-the-love alley. I cannot help who I am, friends. It is what it is. So I'm "it" and  Lillian wants to know what my five wishes are for this holiday season.

Truth be told I have more than five but for the sake of time I will pare it down.

But instead of tagging five other blogs, if you are so moved to do a five wishes blog of your own, consider yourself tagged. I would love to know what your wishes are too. I really would. Because I believe that when you speak your heart aloud, you create the possability.

So with that, here are my wishes...

I wish for a maid. Just a maid, you guys. Someone who will come once a week and clean the ever loving hell out of my house. What good are wishes if you can't shoot for the moon, right? And speaking of shooting for the moon...

I wish for health. I want Daddy and I to live long long lives. I want to be with my family for as long as I can see straight and think coherently. I never want to leave these these crazy people but when I do, I wish for it to be when we are all old old old and peeing ourselves and ready to clock out. Until then, I wish for our health. All of us.

I wish for slippers, underwear and bras. Because if my feet are cold, and my parts are all willy-nilly freestyle, the day is a loss before it begins. Also I just need undergarments with a badness and Daddy Pants reads this blog (Hi baby!) and might need ideas for me for Christmas. So there's that.

I wish for snow. A white Christmas. Because I am a romantic and it is supposed to snow for Christmas Day. Lights are supposed to reflect off the snow and the night moon is supposed to make the ground sparkle like a million diamonds. And I am supposed to stay warmly inside making my new vegan hot chocolate recipe (safe for Plum) while watching Daddy play with our babies in the powder. Then, when they all come in, we will wrap ourselves in blankets and I will kiss their chilled cheeks and wipe their drippy pink noses as they sip the their hot chocolate and we watch a Christmas movie.

Ok, maybe I have planned this out a bit too much...

And finally, I wish for healing. Not for me but for you. So many of those that I love are hurting right now. And if only one of my wishes could come true, it would be this one. I wish that all the pain in the hearts of those I love would disappear and be replaced by calm, strength, laughter and joy. I wish for you to find solace. I wish for peace for you. I wish for your heart to be healed of its wounds. I wish above all else that you are ok. That you will find rest. That life will treat you kindly and that love will shine up through you and keep you well.

Those are mine. What about you? What are your wishes?

Attachment Parenting has been quite the hot button topic this year right? Between the Time magazine cover and its own spokesmodel in  Mayim Bialik (who I love, btw) and the media's pointed move deciding that Attachment Parenting is extreeeeeme. And yes, I just tried to type that word as though a snowboarding stoner said it. You know, because parenting is so extreeeeeme, dude.

If you read parenting blogs like I do, you will eventually find some on the subject. And then if you read enough of those, you will most definitely come across more than a few who think it is just an awful way to parent a kid. I've let my blood boil a few times about this because I can be an emotional volcano (SURPRISE!). The truth is, it's hard to read posts that make fun of the way you parent or even go those steps further to call your parenting hurtful or even crazy and cult-like.

If I'm being honest I have even taken those posts pretty personally. I get all offended and I say things to Daddy like, "LOOK at this! This lady is such an asshole! She is judging the shit out of us and she doesn't even know us! She isn't even explaining AP right!" and then I pause and it occurs to me that I have just judged her, too. I have decided that she is a cold and unfeeling asshole that hates me and my family. My only recourse then is to make myself feel better by deciding she is probably a terrible, cold and soul-less parent, right? Her poor children probably sleep on stone slabs without blankets

Maybe not.

----

Someone said to me recently, if you put three religious extremists in a room together, they will kill each other. I disagree. I whole-heartedly believe that if you put those three in a room long enough, they will emerge peacefully. They may not become besties but I believe that they will understand each other better because they will find reasons to not hate each other. It's hard to hate those that you find common ground with. It's hard to hate what is standing right in front of you. And I believe that every single one of us has common ground to discover in  every person. No matter how different we are. Even in this war zone of opposing parenting styles, we can find common ground. Because we are wired as humans to try and find that common ground.

But we cannot find it without first going into that room together. And that's uncomfortable. We worry about the intentions of the others and fear their potential judgment of us. So we then gather up our defenses to arm ourselves with judgments in preparation for counter attacks. Also a very human thing to do, no?

We humans are bunch of dummies sometimes.

I've been wondering recently if we really can rise above the so-called mommy wars. I wonder what it is that fuels it. I wonder what the bottom line is.  And I keep coming back to the internet itself. The internet keeps us out of the room. It keeps us safe and gives people license to say things they would never dream of saying to someone's face. It creates a space for snap judgments and anonymity with little regard for damage.  But what it doesn't provide is a shield for our feelings. And we are only human, after all. We cannot shut those off. Oh how I've tried.

----

So what inspired this current ramble of mine? On our Facebook page I asked this question...

"Wanna help me? I have a question for you and there are NO wrong answers (I mean that). When you hear the term Attachment Parenting, what do you think? Your first reaction. Be TOTALLY honest, pretty please. I'm writing a post and would LOVE your input. ~Mama Pants"

My intention was to write a post about attachment parenting. Tomorrow I will post my personal answer to the question that I asked of all of you. It may not be what you think (Or it may be exactly what you think). But then as I read through the comments on our Facebook page I noticed something happening. I have long suspected that this blog has readers of vastly different parenting styles and the Facebook thread validated that. People began opening up and taking risks. People were honest. There were negative and positive reactions to the term Attachment Parenting. Some opened up further and shared some of their parenting tools with the group. Some were more succinct, answering the question with two or three words. But you know what?

Nobody fought.

No one said anything rude directed at another commenter. There was even some peer support going on. And let me tell you that I know for a fact that some of the ideas expressed rubbed some people the wrong way, including me. But instead of fighting about it, there was pause given.  I noticed that many comments began with phrasing similar to "please don't judge me but here's what I think". People braced themselves for an attack but the attack never came. 

Like our newest reader, Jenny. She had this to say:

"I'm going to be honest, I was nervous when I mentioned the name Ferber & semi-'dissed' the Moby.... But I will say... It is SOOO refreshing to know that we can all voice our opinions & they all be so different :-) without fear of retaliation or judgment.... Totally encouraging!!! So glad I 'liked' this page this morning!!"  

And something else kind of awesome happened in that thread. Common ground started to form. It would seem that the parenting style of "love your kids, do what works best for your family, trust your instincts and eff the haters" started to emerge. And that's a style I think I'd like to write a book about someday.

----

Epilogue

I always wanted to have an epilogue on a blog post. Forgive me. I know it's ridiculous and makes sense to no one but me.

Moving on.

It is my goal for 2013 to grow the Facebook page as a place for conversation and discussion about parenting. For everybody. You know, like that room I talked about up there.  It's gonna be tricky because despite our best intentions, talking about parenting choices can often be a minefield. And the whole feelings and the internet thing. But I have high hopes that it can become a great thing. My belief is that we have so much more in common than not. And that the only way to truly play a part in ending the parenting wars is to get into that room together. So consider this your invitation. I'd love to see you there.

Come join us on Facebook here and bring your friends. We have a community to build.

It's that wonderful time of year, when we all reflect on the things that we are grateful for. Of course I think this is awesome. I am a hippie, you know. And a Unitarian Universalist. So I am basically in a constant state of gratefulness. Unless I'm really tired. Or on my period.

I'm all about spreading the love, the Karma, the gratitude. I love it. I love love love it.

Of course I am grateful for all the usual suspects. A loving family, amazing friends. These plump and gorgeous babies that I live with. A dashing husband.  I am grateful for the food we eat and for the roof over our heads. I am grateful to have the support of awesome people and this list could go on for ever and ever and ever because I try and make it a daily practice to be grateful for every blessing in my life.

So because of that I need to pare this down and pick a category. How about I  tell you about the some of the people and things I am grateful for that do not make everyone's top ten list? Ok.  

I am grateful for drive-thru banking. While I am sure this was more of a self-protection move for the bank industry it has made my life easier and less sweaty.

I am grateful for the person that designed the grocery cart car thingy. In fact I would kiss that person if I could. I would kiss them forever. And so hard. In the rain.

I am grateful for Dawn dish soap. It cleans everything. It is a miracle. 

I am grateful for Tater Tots. Tots are a staple in this house. They will always be eaten. They will always be loved. They are delicious little compact pieces of shredded potato heaven.

I am grateful for the lessons I've learned from my children. Like how it's fun to add the words "scratch your butt" to every song we sing. You know, Twinkle Twinkle Scratch Your Butt? It's a great song about a star in the sky. Precious really. The star needs to scratch his butt. And then there's also the song The Itsy-Bisty Spider. Wouldn't you know that that spider just wants to scratch her butt? Well she does, poor thing. The itsy-bity spider needs to scratch her butt. And that's funny.


To anybody in my life who has ever offered to take the kids off my hands for a few hours. I am so grateful for you.

Cereal bars. That's right. I am eternally grateful for cereal bars. They are the answer to Mr. Pants' war with breakfast. They are sent from heaven and made of magic. They are to be respected for the peace that they bring in this house. I love you cereal bars.

And this. I am so grateful for this...

And finally, I am so very grateful for all of you. It makes me feel all warm and gooey inside that you are reading along. I wish that I could plant a kiss on all of you. An awkward and sloppy kiss. You have opened doors for my family just by coming here to read our stories. Every time you read, share a post or comment, you help me to establish a readership and that helps me find writing jobs. It's because of you that maybe just maybe I can really make this writing thing stick. So please do me a favor and lean into your computer. Don't be scared. Since I cannot kiss you all individually, I shall kiss you collectively.  So go on. Lean in. Even close your eyes if you want.  


Because Mama wants to give you a kiss....