So many adventures. So few times.

My photo
My life is pretty dull. I play with a toddler, watch a lot of Yo Gabba Gabba and experiment with the crock pot. I have no bed time and I find humor in Laffy Taffy jokes. Conan O'Brien is my anti-drug.

Saturday, June 1, 2019


This has been said before, but I’m back! Fun things in the hopper - like my ultimate, all-time favorite matcha mint green tea latte from a neighborhood coffee shop. But maybe not because I don’t actually have the top secret recipe.
Stay tuned! 

Back woods lessons

You know what I super love? Getting lost on our own property. We have around 20 acres of property and the more we really explore and climb and crawl and swipe ticks off our body, the more land I want. 

My husband, resident big thinker, brought out our old school push mower so we could work on a path to get to the back of the property. Total genius move and saved hacking/pulling every little tree along the trail. Maybe the best weekend we’ve ever had, simply getting dirty while being eaten alive by mosquitoes.

Leopard print so predators stay away. Obviously.
And by predators, I sorta [definitely] mean our own kids. 

Of my many found things (including a super old, half-buried wagon wheel and approximately 8 golf balls) was a pile of old beer cans. Ummm... when did Miller have ‘Miller Ice’??!

In conclusion: get outside! Explore! Explore your back yard, dig in the dirt. 
Don’t have a back yard? Give me a buzz and you can come explore mine with me. I think our noisy, critter-filled woods are maybe my favorite place on earth.

Second only to the sauna room at my gym. 
Because, always cold.

Monday, April 8, 2019


Warning - this is a little dark and the main reason I’ve struggled with writing for a very long time.

Oh anxiety. Why now?! You have me second guessing every word out of my mouth, and yet rambling like never before. You have me nervous to interact with anyone and everyone, including my husband and children. You make me sound angry but feel scared. You make me wonder if my marriage is in question, if my husband doesn’t want me any more because I’m such a wreck, on such a short fuse and so quick to cry. You make me question the love of my children, if they truly need me, if they would be better without me, if my love isn’t enough for them and they can’t feel it radiating from my pores with every breath I take. You have me shove food into my face I don’t want to eat, certainly don’t need to eat, until I’m aching and miserable and can’t breathe. You make me yearn for silence and dark, my crisp sheets with the curtains drawn. 

I’m trying to claw my way to the surface of this grave my brain has buried me in. I’m trying to find the peace and the joy in the simple tasks I love, the people I love fiercely and wholly, far more than myself. I’m trying to find connection with family on all sides, a sense of home among relatives. Im trying to open to friends and allow them back into my heart although so many have left me behind to wallow. I’m trying to push away my self-placed ache of not belonging, being unnecessary, having no reason except to bring pain to those I love. But when I use my voice in a strong, brief moment I get strange looks, rolled eyes, blatant cold shoulders and it plunges me back into the dark. Texts aren’t returned. Voicemails are ignored. Invitations are sent to all but me. And it’s so hard to believe and be and try when no one wants my effort. 

I am enough. I am enough. I am enough. 
I will repeat this until I believe it. 

Wednesday, February 20, 2019

Loud Noises!1!!11!

FALSE ALARM! I repeat: FALSE ALARM! No cancerous growths, thank God. I had a 3D mammo and ultrasound by a gaspy, panicky woman who freaked me out and a lovely woman who I’d actually met previously and thought very highly of. I’ll let you decide which is which. 


Thank you and much love to all of you who sent luck and prayers and warm & fuzzy thoughts my way.  

Monday, February 18, 2019

Monday Musings of a Boob freak

Recording my thoughts as I drive and as I sit in a parking lot and while I am in the radiology waiting room. I can’t remember how this started. Middle of the night insomnia, and a self-exam out of 3 a.m. boredom. 

Yes, I don’t actually know anything. Yes, the statistics are in my favor. All of the statistics. I am under 40 years old and I am healthy. While I did have clogged ducts while breast-feeding I never developed mastitis. There is no history of women in my immediate family developing breast cancer, at least not that I know of. And yet here I am, after going in to question a lump I discovered a few weeks ago. Here I am less than a week later, rushed in for a mammogram that I thought I would not experience until my 40s, when I would have to begrudgingly make that silly appointment. I have to get an ultrasound on my right breast to find out what those- not one – but two large lumps actually are. And I’m confident that it is nothing. Except right now I am not confident. Yesterday? I was OK. Saturday evening I was swell, with a beer in hand and sarcasm in my voice as I talked to a friend about her experiences with silly offices and boobs and whatnot. But on this sunshiny but cold Monday I am scared to death. 

It would be more likely that I would get hit by a semi in an intersection and die from that than to have breast cancer, which doesn’t even necessarily translate to fatality. But here is the bile in the back of my throat and the insomnia for days on end from unspoken fears and here are the jittery and watery scatterings in every interaction I have today. 

I had a huge binging episode on Saturday and briefly again on Sunday. But I also drank away my fears with a good friend who had loads of excellent input and made me laugh and had pop culture references that were on par with my own. Teary-eyed texts went to another who I miss dearly and know has been through a similar situation and would be holding my shaky, clammy hand right this effing second if she could.

And then today I stupidly searched Google for images of what a positive ultrasound looks like just in case it comes to that. I googled what it would look like to have a cyst or to have one of the many other possibilities of this foreign mass in my body and then I dragged myself into the shower and cried for 30 minutes straight. I wrote a workout for this evening’s gym HIIT class that seems a lifetime away but really is only in 3 hours. I forced myself to eat some ham lunch meat to stop the coffee churning in my stomach, and then I sat and watched a fluffy movie. I gave my kids extra hugs and watched them play sweetly (and bicker just the same). I dry-heaved until I didn’t and ridded myself of the measley protein I had consumed. I grasped my husband tightly before I left the house. 

And now I can’t delay any longer, and I have to leave my car and all I want is to curl into my children and my husband and love and be loved. 

But instead, it’s time to squish a boob and take a super expensive picture. 

Let’s do this.

Monday, December 24, 2018

This is my Grown Up Christmas List

With just one more wake up until Christmas, I'm sure you are all panicking on what to get me for this magical holiday. But thanks to our good friends at there is still time to send me (or someone else, I guess. Harumph.) a unique and kind of amazing gift with it only being a hot second late. Check out my little list of cool do-dads I've found in the last few days for just about every price range!

This sweet little camera setup gives you instantaneous images for all your selfie-loving selves. 

Carry your library books for all your snot-nosed babes in retro-chic style.

Wanna keep a secret? So does this subtly-cool leather bracelet with your own message printed inside.

Married to the gym? Not one for arm candy? Ditch the Fitbit and slip into something a bit more subtle - this activity tracker ring is a waterproof way to track your steps and heart rate without smashing your device with a kettle bell swing.

Step up your beer-in-the-shower-pregame routine with an innovative beer and wine glass holder with super strong suction so your glass is never too far from your reach. Afraid of dropping said glass with slippery hands? Pop a bendy straw in your pinot. Duh.

Green thumbs, rejoice! Eat fresh even in the most frigid of seasons with this magical all-in-one aero-garden.

Sunday, November 25, 2018

Unexpected Packages from The Ho Ho King

The other day I was grabbing piles of catalogs and Black Friday fliers and late-to-postmark political advertisement slicks (for all I know. Seriously. I keep getting these and that was so last month) and among those was a brightly illustrated large envelope. Assuming it was a faux key to a local car dealership running some shenanigan promotion, I was majorly close to tossing the package. Last second I decided to glance at whatever junk was inside, and BLAMMO. I basically committed mail fraud because the letter was so totally not addressed to me.

Again this year I utilized the thorough and fear-inducing positive-attitude-motivating site and service,! Killer met it with her typical suspicion and then excitement, whereas the Moose experienced nothing short of pure elation and joy. Kid almost pooped himself, he was so excited! 

The Silver package includes: 
  • A personalized (and editable) letter from the Big Guy himself
  • Personalized Nice List certificate (because maybe seeing it in writing helps these rottens actually act like they deserve to be there)
  • 8 1/2 x 11 photo of Mr. Kringle - perfect size for framing and adding to your Pinterest-worthy hallway gallery wall, ya'll!
  • Personalized Santa flight plan - my kids freaked out about this, seeing Wisconsin with a big ol' star 
  • Special shipping label addressed to your child - not to you. See the above paragraph. Do not commit a federal crime by opening your kids' mail. Duh. 
  • Genuine North Pole Stamp(This is the really good stuff!)
  • Personalized video greeting from Santa!
  • Personalized call from Santa!
  • Personalized Nice List Guide

Plus, you have the option to upgrade to even more goodies - and trust me, there are a lot more options to spoil and/or scare your kids to death. Packages start at $14.95, making this a great affordable gift for a friend's child - it isn't just another dang thing to get broken in a few days, it's an experience that years from now they'll remember and think about in a non-jerk way. 
AND AND AND! My readers get 25% off at using code FAM2060! Bam!