The random misadventures of a (formerly)Single Super Mom

One of my many nicknames is Chocolate Mary Poppins. It was given to me YEARS ago by a tiny blonde haired, blue eyed tot named Gretchen.  I watched her for the very first time and as I was on my way home, my phone rang.  It was Gretchen's mom.  I picked up the phone and she was laughing so hard I initially thought she was crying. I thought..."They were alive when I left!  I thought they had a great time! I swear I didn't break them!!"  It turns out the conversation after I left went like this.. In the bathtub... G: Mama, do we have any chocolate? M: I think so, why?  G: I just want to know how many chocowate baws I have to eat before I can get bwown like Ms. Mewissa... M: Honey... I don't think there is enough chocolate in the world for that... Thus... Chocolate Mary Poppins was Born... In over 30 years watching literally hundreds of children, I have never encountered a toy of evil like I did tonight. I had 2 8 year old girls and one almost 2 ye

I looked on my Facebook memories this week, and last year I was at the funeral of the son of a friend of mine.  It was one of the most unorthodox yet hopeful services I've ever attended.  My friend's son had a long struggle with mental illness and took his own life.  No matter how hard people tried to help him, it just wasn't enough to conquer his demons.  He left a hole behind that will never be filled, and I struggle every day to make sense of the deaths of so many like him.  I have 2 friends, both with sons that had the same first name, both boys took their own lives within 6 months of each other, and both boys struggled so hard against the demons that ultimately won. My daughter came home yesterday and she has been struggling lately with her mental health.  The world is a much more difficult one than I grew up with, and while the challenges are similar, the world itself is so different.  We are bombarded with images left and right of how horrible things are, how ho

"Mom, there is a shooter at my school".  That is the last text message ANY parent wants to hear.  Ever.  And we hear it way too often.  I live in Charlotte, North Carolina and the past two weeks have been hell.  5 shootings and 3 fatalities on a Sunday.  A gunman opens fire on the University of North Carolina Campus.  Every single day it seems we see another child die.  And another. And another.  And another.  I will never forget where I was when Sandy Hook happened.  I cried so hard I made myself sick, vomiting in the bathroom because I felt like my heart had been ripped out through my chest.  We swore "never again".  Yet it happened again, and again, and again.  Almost once a week it happens. I don't know what the answer is.  I honestly don't.  I know that we as a culture will not give up the right to bear arms.  I know we won't do what New Zealand did.  But I don't know what we are willing to do. https://www.latimes.com/projects/la-na-schoo

I have written about my family more than anything else, because they are what makes me who I am.  They are the reason I get up in the morning. The reason I breathe every day.  The first thing on my mind when I wake up, and the last thing on my mind when I fall asleep. I am extremely lucky to have loving parents, incredible siblings, a (now) great husband and two of the most amazing kids on the planet. Being a mother is one of the most defining parts of who I am.  It's the biggest part of my heart.  Even though my kids are technically adults, being their mom will never stop. I'll never stop worrying about them, even though they can take care of themselves.  Over the last 6 years, being a part of a FIRST Robotics team made me a "mom" in other ways.  40-50 high school students every year have been a big part of my life, and I have been lucky to inspire them and to let them know that they always have a "safe space" with me. When something happens to your chi