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You have ever wondered why other

mothers have it all together.

And you can't find a clean pair of



This Site Is For You IF...

Your first child listened to classical music

You read to them for hours

You kept them sugar and chemical free

And you can't remember why.

This Site Is For You IF...

You have read the book! Twice!

And your child STILL doesn't do it.

Show us a lil's been a long day!
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The News
My Kids Aren't That Amazing PDF Print E-mail
Written by CC   
Wednesday, 10 February 2016 10:07

I was at my networking group this morning.  If I haven’t talked about them before…  I am the president of a little group of 14 fabulous, quirky, interesting, feisty people who make my Wednesday mornings worthwhile.  And mostly because we’re this fabulously dysfunctional group who have known each other for too long.  But without them, I would feel as though my anchor in the ocean was gone.  I need to hear Brenda correct someone’s pronunciation of the word ‘realtor’.  I need to hear Maggie throw out a terrifying and freaking hysterical sexual innuendo that only 2 out of 5 people get.  I want to see Arnie’s shirt he wears every single week to make a point.  Someone made fun of the shirt, so he wears it each week in order to show the world he doesn’t care if they think he’s cool.  And I love him more for it.  But we knew he wasn’t cool.

How To Miss Your Children PDF Print E-mail
Written by CC   
Saturday, 06 February 2016 10:43

It’s Saturday.  I have my chai tea latte.  I decided to go to the local coffee shop to stand in line for twenty minutes and by the “we’re making it” station for another ten minutes, pay $5 for the pleasure of it and go back home. 


Saturdays can be hard.  I miss my kids. They are with their dad, and I tend to get a little depressed.  Which if you’re divorced is one of the great wonders of parenting and divorce.  You miss your kids like crazy when they’re not there.  And you feel this deep depression, not like you can’t breathe, but like someone moved your cheese.  And you’ve lost your motivation to find it because you’ve decided to give up cheese.  The only reason you liked cheese was because you had children and adrenaline and narry a break in sight.

Super Fucking Confusing or Barely Enlightening? PDF Print E-mail
Written by CC   
Sunday, 22 November 2015 10:37

You know, I don’t write that often anymore.  Mostly because my message has changed, and I don’t know what it is yet.  So I become quiet because I am afraid I’ll share something inconsistent or strange or confusing.  But then, I realized, that’s probably part of the damn process.  My life has changed so much over the last few years, and it’s stayed the same too.  And in some fantastic ways, it has gone back to something I remember from long ago, something I missed about me. 


Makes Me Stupid PDF Print E-mail
Written by CC   
Wednesday, 19 August 2015 13:55

I would like to imagine that even I am able to write a short and sweet little blurb every single day, to speak my truth in power and simplicity.  But really, that’s not what mac-n-cheesemartinis is about.  So starting today, try to watch my progress and judge quietly.  It won’t be spectacular. 


My kids are back in school.  And I write little words and snippets of wisdom in my personal journal.  I watch my personal growth, and I celebrate the little steps I take each day to become more like Depak Chopra and less like the maniacal mom I picture in my head.  And I do my  No, this isn’t a review for lumosity.  Well, not on purpose anyway.  But seriously.  Do this experiment.  And see how crazy this is! 

My kids were home with me this summer, because unlike some children, my kids BEGGED to stay home instead of going to summer camp.  Most kids are like, “Hey, can I go to robotics camp in East India?”  And most moms are like, “Wow, wouldn’t you like to take swim lessons at the community center?” 

 But me, I’m like, “Hey, what about robotics camp in East India?”  And my kids are like, “NOOOO, we want to stay home with you!”  And then we spend two weeks in bliss as we do all our summer activities at the water park and visit with friends and they do their schoolwork and piano and reading each day.

 And it feels a lot like awesome would, on a stick, with fluffy cotton candy wrapped around it.  And then the last two weeks come around, and they bicker more, and I get irritated faster, and they get out of doing chores, and I work from home and yell a little louder when they interrupt my work calls.  And I impulsively add robotics camp to the calendar for next year, knowing we’ll do the same things again. 

 But wait, I was talking about lumosity!  Soooooo fun experiment.  I was kind of rocking my lumosity scores, feeling like the little home genius that I might think I am when my scores go up and up.  And then somewhere after the two week vacation with their dad, like two days after they got home, my scores plummeted.  And let me be more specific.  My attention scores fell like a freaking anchor, dropped on land.  Turns out I became extremely stupid and unable to focus or problem solve when my kids came home, after two weeks of quiet and calm. 

Ok, tell me something interesting, right?! 

But for real, though, my scores have gone back up in the last couple weeks since the kids went back to school. 

There, I’ve done the research.  Working from home over the summer with your two favorite people home with you is not a good way to become more intelligent.  In fact, it made me stupider for a couple months.  So you don’t need to ask yourself anymore, “Why do I feel like I am losing my mind?”  You are.  Done and done.  I’ve done the research, and you can too. 

So while there is no better place to be than home with my beautiful boys.  While my goal in life is to be there for the things that matter, like picking up from school or seeing a school play or driving to karate or just having a snack after school and going through work from the day…  it does, in fact, make me stupider.  And let’s be honest…  we’ve known forever…  ignorance is bliss.  Enjoy your stupid, enjoy your ignorance, enjoy your kids!  And when they go back to school, recover for a couple weeks and know it does come back.  And now I have no idea what to do with all the power in my brain. 

 Fuck it.  Hand me a martini!


Love to you and yours today!







The Best, The Worst, and the Best PDF Print E-mail
Written by CC   
Tuesday, 19 May 2015 11:49

My kids and I took a walk last night.  My oldest, Mack, was chattering without a breath.  The kid must be a fish.  He can just go on, like a big run-on sentence without taking a breath, and I listen intently to the parts I’ve never heard before. I respond kindly and authoritatively to the parts about his little brother that could be skipped, and I tune out a bit when he begins to pontificate about vehicular attributes that I can barely stand to hear about again. 


Mostly, I take walks with my kids because I love walking at night.  I love how quiet and safe it feels.  Yes, I realize that sounds a little nutty, but I have always loved walks at night.  The world is dark, and it feels like you are a little bit alone.  You can hear things you haven’t.  You don’t dodge bikes and cars and children.   My kids and I just walk down the street.  My oldest on a scooter, whizzing ahead and behind and as in this moment I am describing, scooting beside me chatting, as if there is a whole string of words attached to each other, that must come out because there’s no more room to store them inside his body.

And my youngest has his arm around my waist, telling me he hates walks.  And then he darts over to pick a flower for me or a long stem off a weird plant and makes up a game with it.  “You want to kick the rocks like soccer balls on the way home, mom?”  The answer is no.  I just want to walk and listen and watch them.  They are fascinating and busy and electric.  And many times I play the games my Zoom makes up, but last night I didn’t want to.  I just wanted to be in my body, walking in a rhythm and listening. 


And Mack chattered on, and I came in and out of the one-sided conversation, and watched his beautiful outline of a face in the dark.  Wow, when did he get so big?  His face is as big as mine!  He looks a little like me.  He and I still have that special connection… and then I heard him switch subjects, and I jumped out of my adoring mode to hear him say, “Well, I think you handle things really well with me, mom.  You know me, and you know how to handle me.  But I realized I give you a hard time.  I used to think you were so sweet, and you could handle it, so I would give you more trouble.  But I’m trying to work on that because I don’t think it’s fair.”


If you need a moment to re-read that, I’ll give it to you here.  I am a fast processor, but I had to replay it in my head for a moment too.  Had I fallen and hit my head?  Was I on morphine?  Can I get a little more of that dripping stuff, nurse?  This vision is really phenom, so don’t wake me for a little longer.  Leave the concussion.  I promise we’ll deal with that as soon I finish hearing what my son told me. 


Yah, funny stuff happens every day.  I am never bored.  I never know what will happen next.  I never know what challenge will embrace or squash me as mother.  And I take responsibility for my part in all of that. 


But that really blew me away.  Sometimes I look at this child with so many challenges and so many gifts.  And I wish for him to have everything that’s available.  I have literally spent half my waking hours since he was born trying to figure out what that even is!  And last night I knew something… he was going to be ok.  If at eleven years old, he can give me any sign that he is self-aware, open, honest, kind and loved enough that he can share that with me…  well, I know he will be ok.  And so will I. 


For just a moment, and you know I am all about those, I felt triumphant.  I felt gleeful and full.  Being a parent is the hardest thing in the world, but sometimes, sometimes we get a glimpse of the best parts of these beautiful people we call our children.  Sometimes, we see the really good stuff that makes us wonder why we’ve ever complained—until they break my grandma’s porcelain parakeet she handed to me on her deathbed as she sang out “Happy Birthday”.  But you understand, even if I get off track. We are lucky to be able to experience the best and the worst.  And we are most blessed if we understand that at the end of either one of these extremes is the other or something in between.  All together it’s called parenting.   But today, this memory is called the best.  And I get to revel in that today.


Short and sweet, just like what I could be if I really tried. 


Love to you and yours today!  Cheers to all the best moments!


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