Friends, I have a small obsession with all things Mindy Kaling (if you haven’t hopped on The Mindy Project wagon yet, I suggest you stop everything else in your life and start watching it stat–she play a doctor so get what I did there?!). My recent vlog is about a random set of occurrences involving an audition I had for a new ABC show, tea bag(s) and a tweet by my girl Mindy that all conspired to sorta kinda change my life.
If you’ve ever lost a loved one, you know that dream visitations are a precious occurrence. I have very vivid dreams of my dad and always have mixed emotions when I wake–a combination of disappointment that he’s not really there and a sort of elation that I was able to spend time with him.
A few weeks ago, I was asked by a producer of The Doctors TV show (the former producer of the Fox 5 morning show) to meet with a dream analyst, Cynthia Richmond, who helps people connect to their deceased loved ones via (more…)
A little over two years ago I discovered a blog called An Inch of Gray through some tweets cryptically recalling a horrific accident. A little boy, a storm, a river.
As I read the raw, gripping words written by a mother consumed with grief after losing her 12-year-old son Jack just days prior, I wept and prayed for a family I had never met. Anna’s writing made me feel as if I was there with her and that I had known her forever. She was me, she was my friend, she was every mother who has ever loved a child. The immeasurable pain she recounted touched my heart so much that I reached out to her via comments, emails, blog posts and even through a video about Justin Beiber.
Over time and over the Internet, Anna and I became friends. We have never met in real life, but we connect in a very real and emotional way. Grief brought us together, but a commonality of searching for light and meaning has kept us connected.
On the two-year anniversary of the death of her precious Jack, she released her first book, Rare Bird–a memoir of the first year of life after Jack died. As she states in the book, it was not
This week the Internet nearly broke because of an un-airbrushed photo of Cindy Crawford in a bra and panties. Stories about body image always get good traction and this one was no different. The photo resonated with a lot of people–it certainly did with me. Being a woman with many imperfections, it’s nice to see “supermodels” in all of their un-airbrushed glory.
Can we just place a national ban on airbrushing? No? Okay, just checking.
Anyway, we discussed the Cindy Crawford pic on Ask the Moms, along with how to prepare your kiddo for a doctor’s appointment and how to wean your little ones off of that dreaded 5AM feeding.
The beginning of 2015 has gotten off to an amazing start with lots of positive changes in my life, one of which begins today.
For the first time in 6 years, I am officially a full-time employee. I’ve been hired to write creative content for a social media company that I have been freelancing with for the past few months. I love the company, the work, and the flexibility in hours they are affording me. Plus, I’ll still be able to blog and do my weekly Ask the Moms gig so don’t worry, Mama Mary fans, I won’t be going anywhere.
A few weeks ago, my 8-year-old daughter brought home a reading comprehension homework assignment about Martin Luther King Jr. As she read through the short, simplified biography of MKL Jr. and tried to answer the questions, she had a lot of questions for me like, “what is segregation?” and, “what does ‘boycott’ mean?”
I took pause, as her questions were certainly not easy to answer. I have talked about this subject with her before, on a very base level, but it seemed like it was time to dive in a little more.
“Well, remember when I told you that there was a time in this country when people with black skin didn’t have the same rights as people with white skin. They had their own bathrooms and drinking fountains, and that black people weren’t allowed to sit in certain seats on buses to enter certain places if they were for ‘white people only?’
And boycott, well, you know how we never go to Chick-fil-A. That’s because I found out a few years ago that the owners are anti-gay marriage which means they spend money towards groups that don’t want people like our friends Dawn and Diana to get married. So, I decided to never any of my money there.
I woke up early this morning seeing no silver lining. Then, I went in for my morning pee and was thankful for the fact I could sit down comfortably, without that split second of worrying whether or not I’d be sitting down on the thin, cold, man-pee rim.
Ding, ding—silver lining.
Last night I felt dejected listening to my daughter rehearse her weekly 2nd grade speech on the topic “what you are thankful for,” when she said she was thankful for me because I “work hard to get money for the family” and she was thankful for her dad for hanging out and spending time with her. I fought the urge to say, “but wait, don’t I hang out, and play, and cook, and take you to dance and . . . ”
Instead, I decided to soak it in. She is thankful for me.
I had a hard time sleeping with stressful thoughts of bills and work deadlines, but then I checked my Facebook account (what else do we do when we can’t sleep?) to find a message from a friend whose dad is battling cancer, thanking me for my messages of love and encouragement.
Before coming downstairs this morning, I sifted through my closet with shame and sadness because I’ve gained so much weight this year from stress eating and drinking that nothing fits. Like, nothing. Then, I looked in the mirror and remembered my therapist’s advice from a few months ago,
“Instead of looking in the mirror and criticizing yourself, try looking in the mirror and saying, ‘Hey, you and me, we got another day!”
So that’s what I did.
I looked at my chunky, weathered, tired face and smiled.