November 1.

Ever wondered what a pissed off NASA Space Commander looks like?



Complete with black dress socks and no shoes. You don’t need shoes in space.

Last night Robbie and I emerged from our home dressed like real people and took the boys trick-or-treating. I don’t have any pictures from this experience because we, along with other parents and children, were crammed into a trailer wrapped in plastic sheeting and carted around the neighborhood. We bumped around and took Jell-o shots and I really don’t know how to explain what went down or why, so you’ll just have to accept what I’m telling you and know that it was awesome.

I saw a mom dressed like Wonder Woman running down the sidewalk, cape flying behind her, with a cup full of wine in her hand. She spilled nary a drop. It nearly brought me to tears, it was so beautiful.

Maverick gave all of his candy to a kid who didn’t have as much.

We ran into a READER OF THIS BLOG!!! Hi, Courtney Vidrine! She said she was going to buy the book! And then we hugged.

I now welcome November with open arms.

Shouting From The Internet (instead of rooftops).

Today is an important day because I zipped myself into my favorite old pair of jeans without feeling nauseous because they were so tight. They are snug but wearable, and when I realized I got into them without sucking in I ran into the living room and demanded that Robbie take a picture so I could document this blessed event … which I am shouting from the internet because running around my neighborhood yelling, “OH MY GOD MY PANTS FIT!!” in these jeans would be difficult.

I’m self-conscious just like any other woman, and this is a big, exciting milestone.


As soon as I looked in the mirror, I noticed that my stomach still pokes out a lot more than it used to (before I had three children), and instantly thought ahead to the next goal (clothes from forever ago when I first got married). And then I got MAD. Why is it that I’m never completely happy with myself? There is always something else to work on, and I feel like I’ve spent my whole adult life working on something. I need a respite.

Today I just want to revel in the fact that I put on these pants, wore them to Target, and didn’t pass out.


I decided it’s time to let myself be proud of how far I’ve come, and just enjoy it. Tomorrow I can go back to worrying about how I look in a bathing suit when skin tight denim isn’t holding everything in. But as my friend Elizabeth said, and I quote:

“I think this stage of our lives calls for a more forgiving view of ourselves. You have three small children, you manage the majority of your household duties, you take good care of your husband. You need food to fuel you. Exercise is great, too, to help you be strong enough to fulfill your responsibilities and to feel good. But I think the idea that we need to be chiseled and toned at this point in our lives is just silly. Your body is beautiful and it is nurturing people all day, every day.”

Elizabeth is one of my internet friends. I’ve never met her, but I think we might be kindred spirits. She has a way of bringing us all back down to what matters. I wish we could all remember and internalize exactly what she said, because she’s so, so right.

So YES, Elizabeth, I will be forgiving of myself. Today. Next weekend when I’m at the beach, I may need another pep talk.

Technology, Schmechnology.

I’m one of those people who can’t do math, like, at all. I also do not understand satellites or radio waves. I have just now, after several years of owning a smart phone, begun to understand how to use it for real. As in, how to download an app without help.

I’m seriously challenged when it comes to all things technology. This includes all of our TV sets which I always seem to mash the wrong button on, resulting in a phone call to Robbie where I yell “HOW DO I MAKE THE STUPID TV WORK?!” Because if it’s technological and I can’t seem to operate it, it’s always his fault. I yell and he answers and then I hang up. No goodbye, no thank you for helping. I just. hang. up.

So, a few weeks ago my friend Laure totally revamped my blog.  As you can see, she did an A-M-A-Z-I-N-G job. Every time I look at it, I get a little giddy.

If you have been with me for awhile, I’m sure you recall the weird grandma’s-wallpaper thing I had going on over at Blogger for (ahem) 4 years. If you don’t remember, allow me to jog your memory:

modern mommy madness

Laure kindly suggested once or twice that a redesign might be fun, but I’m sort of always overwhelmed with my life and I had to table that idea until I felt ready to deal with the realities of moving four year’s worth of my writing, photos, and links from Blogger to WordPress. There was also an issue with my domain name, which I can’t say I completely understand, mostly because I am disorganized and never have a complete handle on anything that is going on in my life. I just keep moving forward with the assumption that it will all work out. The signs say CARRY ON and that is what I do. I IGNORE AND CARRY ON.

Anyway, one day I was trying to add a widget to my Blogger blog and it wouldn’t let me and I just … snapped. THIS, I decided, THIS was the day I was moving over to WordPress. So, I did what made sense and Googled, “How do I move my blog from Blogger to WordPress?” Pretty quickly, I realized I didn’t know what the hell I was doing. Robbie was no help — he’s a gadget guy but he doesn’t know the first thing about what I was trying to do. So I texted Laure. Once she figured out what was going down, she probably gasped aloud and said “OH NO! SHE DOESN’T KNOW WHAT THE HELL SHE’S DOING!” But who can say for sure, she lives in Thibodeaux and I live in Baton Rouge.

What I do know is that she immediately offered to help me, and she somehow saved my domain name from being sucked into the black hole of the internet. She took stock of everything she knew about me and created an awesome design that makes me happy just to look at it. I can’t praise her enough; she is amazing. So if you’re like me and need help with your website and don’t know what the hell you’re doing — even after you’ve seen a ton of YouTube videos on how to do this or that — get help.

If I were you, I’d get Laure. You can find her here.

She also has a fun blog about finding local, fresh food and every time I read it I feel both embarrassed about the Totino’s pizzas in my freezer, and inspired to get my butt in gear and make it to the produce stand more often. Baby steps. A girl can only handle so much in a day.