Good Ideas Gone Bad.

Have you ever noticed that when it comes to raising children, other people are always full of good ideas?

Grandma gently suggests that your toddler is too old to have a pacifier, and honestly, you agree. You gather all the pacifiers in the house and toss them, fighting the urge to dive into the garbage can to get them back. WHAT HAVE I DONE?!  You wring your hands with worry.

“Now we can see her sweet faces in pictures,” exclaims Grandma. “Those silly pacifiers were always in the way.” You nod in agreement. Yes, this was the right thing to do.

Read the rest of my latest essay for Baton Rouge Moms here!

(If you liked this post, then you will LOVE I Still Just Want To Pee Alone! Click here to find out more!)

Bada Bing, Bada Boom.

My stockpile of “I Still Just Want To Pee Alone” will be here on April 7th and I would LOVE to sell each of you a personalized copy! I mean … if you want. No pressure, because I really, really dislike salespeople a lot. Yet somehow, in the greatest act of irony ever, I married one.

Allow me to explain. I dated a lot of boys before I met my now-husband. In fact, my love life was an absolute train wreck. If you want to hear more about that, you’ll have to buy the book. After a lot of failed relationships, I met Robbie and I am fairly certain he used his sales tactics on me — but because I am so annoyed by salesmen and their pushy ways, I called him on his bullshit.

That might be the moment that we fell in love, but enough about that — let’s get back to the book.


I have been published in the sequel to the New York Times Bestseller I Just Want to Pee Alone with a slew of other talented writers.

No, it has still not sunken in.

No, I have not officially celebrated … unless you count drinking wine every night since the day I found out that my essay was selected for the book, in which case, yes. I have celebrated.

If you want to obtain a copy of this anthology for yourself or a loved one who is not bothered by irreverent humor, or even better, a new mother who needs her eyes opened to just how UN-perfect motherhood can be, I would be thrilled to send you a signed copy.

Email me at with your name, address, and who you want the book dedicated to (if applicable). I’ll send you an invoice for $14.99, which includes shipping and handling. Once I receive payment, I’ll mail you the book! Bada-bing, bada-boom. That’s what a salesman would say.

If you are within the vicinity of Baton Rouge, I have events coming up and I would love to meet you! I’ll be sweaty and I apologize in advance. This stuff makes me nervous. Apparently even my kids know this, proven by the hand-written reminder to barf written right above the task to “order books.”

Yeah, I'll barf alright.

Yeah, I’ll barf alright.

And the answer is NO, I definitely did not make it to 8:30 Pilates or 9:30 Kickboxing.

If you don’t want a personalized copy (Hello — you really need one — what if I make the big time one day?! You’ll kick yourself later.), you can come back here to my blog and click the button on the sidebar that says “BUY THE BOOK!” absolutely any time you want.

I just want to say again how grateful I am to everyone for your encouragement and support. I have, hands down, the BEST group of readers. I have no idea where all this is headed and I am equal parts thrilled and terrified. All aboard the crazy train, bitches!

Everything That Is Right.

They say men are simple and have simple needs, and I agree with this most of the time.

Robbie needs very few things to be happy, but he’s also strangely multifaceted. He can do things like accompany me to a photo shoot and seamlessly alternate between playing with our toddler and making really inappropriate hand gestures behind the photographer to illicit a “natural-looking smile” from me.

If you know me in real life, you know that I’m not very good at producing natural-looking smiles on command. Being put on the spot makes me anxious. This is also why I’m terrible in interviews.

When I was 12, I had a bad habit of closing my eyes at the precise moment a photo was snapped.


Thankfully, I outgrew that.

Also thankfully, modern technology allows for horrible photos to be deleted and re-taken over and over again until a semi-decent one is created. It makes me a little sad that the youth of today won’t have as many awkward and cringe-worthy photos to dig through when they are in their mid-thirties. It brings me a sense of satisfaction to see how far I’ve come since the days of that Laura Ashley dress.

Last weekend, I met my friend Rachel who is an amazing photographer (you can view her site here) so she could get some head shots, because I am trying to be a professional with professional-type paraphernalia like business cards. I have a book to sell, you know. It’s time to get my shit together.

Rachel snapped this unplanned picture of us, and when I saw it for the first time tonight, tears came to my eyes.

Photo credit: Rachel Ezzo Portraits, LLC

Photo credit: Rachel Ezzo Portraits, LLC

This. This is what happens when the background noise fades away, and it’s just us.

We do not live a charmed life. Some days, it feels like everything is stacked against us and nothing is easy or simple and we’re always going to be behind in every possible way. I try not to focus on the hard stuff, but sometimes it’s hard not to.

Whenever I get mad at him or feel like everything is all wrong, I’m going to look at this picture to be reminded me of everything that is right and easy.

Hogwarts On The Bayou.

I talk about Zumba a lot on this blog, mostly because it is a key component in the Trifecta of Things That Keep Me Sane (in addition to coffee and writing). So, when my instructor told me that she is running a two-week, Harry Potter-themed day camp program in Baton Rouge this summer called Hogwarts On The Bayou, I was intrigued.

Meet Erin. She teaches my Zumba class.


She’s adorable.

You can — and should! — visit their website for complete information. Until visiting the site, I’d never realized that I might be “befuddled by all of the muggles around me.” Maybe my real issue isn’t that I’m overwhelmed by motherhood … maybe these people in my house are actually muggles.


Here are the details:

Our goal is to create a unique experience to enhance imagination, creativity, teamwork, and life skills while building both a love of literature and promoting Louisiana’s traditions and history.  Basically: the magic of fun, play and imagination!

Students will be sorted into 4 uniquely Louisiana Hogwarts’ houses, play quidditch, mix potions, and learn dueling.   Activities, classes, daily challenges and quests plus house time all give you the feel of being in the wonderful world created by J. K Rowling.


Tiny Potters.

harryIf you’re an adult who loves Harry Potter and are sad you can’t attend the camp (don’t worry, we won’t tell), you can still be involved! Hogwarts On The Bayou needs lots and lots of volunteers so DON’T DELAY! Get your broomstick and fly on over to the website for more information!

The Beehive.

I AM A VAIN PERSON. There, I said it.

It takes me a long time to get ready if I’m going out. I never leave home without at least minimal makeup on, and before I had kids I would literally lie in bed at night planning out what I was going to wear the next day. Apparently deep, intellectual thinking is not my forte.

Earlier this week, I was in the restroom chatting with one of the ladies from my Zumba class when she stopped mid-sentence and asked incredulously, “Are you putting on LIPSTICK?!”

Yes. Yes, I was. I was putting on lipstick, right before an exercise class, in an all-ladies gym. Vanity doesn’t have to make sense, people. Have you ever seen the women with the looooooong fake nails that have jewels glued to them? Does that make sense to you? How the hell do they take care of their basic needs with those talons in the way?

BUT WAIT. It doesn’t have to make sense. Because, vanity.

My hair has always been my pride and joy, despite the fact that it has the consistency of hay if I don’t beat it into submission on the daily and the natural blonde color has darkened to more of a gross dishwater brown with each pregnancy (I have also noticed a significant increase in silver strands, thank you motherhood). My hair is the one thing that has remained recognizable to me over the years. It didn’t get stretch marks or scars. It’s not starting to wrinkle, like my neck.

Knowing all of this, you can probably understand why it’s vital that only someone who is both sober and skilled be allowed to mess with my hair. I have tried coloring it myself, and we all know how that turned out (note: badly). I have tried to cut corners and save money by going to some cheap place or letting students do it.

Three years ago, I even had someone cut and color my hair who was in the active stages of drunkenness. I mean, I do live in the Deep South where day drinking is both encouraged and socially acceptable … but not when you’re holding a pair of scissors. I was too freaked out to figure out what to do, so I literally sat frozen with fear and prayed for a miracle.

My prayer was not answered.

My hair was ruined.

I went to The Beehive Salon in Baton Rouge, LA several days later because someone needed to fix everything that was wrong, and blessedly, no one there drinks on the job. Pam Panepinto, co-owner of the salon and hair extraordinaire, righted everything that was wrong that time, and every time since. I want to hug her every time I see her, both because I am so happy to be away from the never-ending laundry pile at my house, and because I know she’s going to turn me from haggard to hot in 2 hours flat.

Sometimes people will say, “Haggard? What haggard?! Roots?! What roots?! ” Mmm-hmm. I prepared for that by taking before and after pictures after my last visit to the salon. Let’s take a little trip down haggard-to-hot lane, shall we?

Do you still want to tell me that you don't see roots? I DIDN'T THINK SO.

Do you still want to tell me that you don’t see roots? I DIDN’T THINK SO.

20150211_095806IMG_20150211_10260120150211_113702Pretty impressive transformation, right?!

My vanity says yes.

Because they are so amazing, the people at The Beehive are offering all new clients who mention my blog a 20% off discount. You don’t even have to mention it nicely. You can say Modern Mommy Madness is a freaking lunatic and I want to punch her in the face, and they will still give you the discount. And you will leave looking hot.

Visit their website for a full menu of services, and be sure to tell me about your experience if you decide to go! Maybe we can be Eskimo sisters of hair.

This post is sponsored by The Beehive Salon. But even if they weren’t sponsoring it, I’d still tell you how awesome they are.

Just Say Thank You.

Just Say Thank You.

Do you struggle with accepting compliments? How do you respond when your significant other tells you that you’re beautiful, when you feel the exact opposite? IT IS SO HARD TO JUST SAY THANK YOU.

For more on this topic, check out my latest post for Baton Rouge Moms! The link is posted above, or you can just click here!