Another Mom Fail?

This past Saturday the girls and I had a “Girls Day.” We did lunch at Buffalo Wild Wings and then a little bit of shopping. 

Both girls needed new underwear and bras. Now to you and me, that is a completely normal thing. To two teenage girls who have been a bit sheltered, me asking them to accompany me while we pick out their bra and underwear, is up there on the list of “Things Not to do With Your Teenage Daughters.”


And, it is not even the fact that I was there. Well okay, that is part of it, but even if I left them alone, staring at the walls of underwear, I would still have the same reaction from them, just on text.

“Mom, this is so embarrassing.””Mom, can we hurry up?””Mom, people are looking at us.” (No one was looking at us.)

I am standing there in front of the display, trying to be all cool and make them feel like this is nothing. Because it is not!

“Okay, Gracie you’re a small, Sofia I would go with medium, just look at the styles, make sure the size is right, and then we can go.”

I do not know, you would have thought I was walking them into their Highschool for the first day of school while giving them a hug and kiss in the hallway. They are standing there, close together, making sure no one could see them, trying to pretend they do not know me.

“You pick Mom, I do not care!”

Fine. So I grabbed two packages of underwear. Same style different size and we left.

Fast forward to tonight.

Lazy Sunday night. I am getting ready for my work week, The girls were catching up on their laundry. 
I know what you may be thinking. “They can do their own laundry but can’t buy their own underwear?” I have no explanation other than this is clearly something we will be working on.

Me: Hey Sofia, did you ever try on your new underwear? Does it fit okay?

She gives me a death glare. Like a serious “how dare you” even ask me that question.

Me: What??!! What is wrong?????

Sofia: Mother, did…you…realize….that….you …bought…us….thongs?????????

Of course, Gracie comes out of her room at this exact moment. I am betting she was listening and did not want to miss the opportunity of seeing me squirm.

Me: Wait…what????

Sofia: The underwear you bought us, they are thongs!

Gracie: I kinda think that is inappropriate Mother.

Me: I mean, are you sure they are thongs?

Sofia: Would you like to see the box where it is clearly written in big letters THONG?

Okay, not my ideal choice of underwear for my daughters, but their reaction is like I just asked them to jump on the pole.

So now I feel like I have to kind of normalize thongs while making them feel comfortable (the girls, not the actual thong) while validating their feelings.

I am telling you, if this was a movie, I would be an Oscar contender,

Me: Well, okay, it is fine. All I will do is get you whatever kind of underwear you prefer. Not a big deal at all. And, just so you understand, there is nothing wrong with thongs at all. Many people wear them so they do not have a panty line, some people even wear them because they are more comfortable. Choosing to wear a thong is not sexual at all. It is all about personal preference.

Gracie: Do you wear a thong?

Me: Oh God no!!! But it would not be a “wrong” thing if I did.

Gracie: I do not like them. It is inappropriate for me to wear them.

Me: Noted.,,,,,,,but can I just point out if you guys were not rushing me I would have paid better attention.


Me: Oh, I am totally posting it to Facebook, but just so you know, I think most people would be on my side!

Fast forward a few hours later. Vinnie, my son, comes over to visit. Of course, I had to tell him the story. As I am telling him how I accidentally bought his sisters thong underwear, Vinnie is like “Moooooom, I can’t hear this!”

Sofia comes into the room and is like “You told Vinnie??!!!

Dude, you told me I could post it to Facebook!

“Yeah, Facebook. Not meant for you to tell my brother.”


I mean was I like this at their age? 

So now, basically, any holiday from here on out, those two are getting thongs for presents.

Just because I can.


Jen’s an Idiot.

I am not sure what to even title this post. Something along the lines of “Jen’s an Idiot” will suffice.
Last week Joe and I were just hanging out, enjoying our night. With a few drinks in us, and music on the t.v we went down memory lane. He was telling me some story in our past that I do not even remember, I mean this gist of the story, the very important part of the story was how he thought I “looked hot in the red flannel.” Again, I do not even remember the story. But I do remember my red flannel. The most comfortable over shirt that I kept from my days as an early grunge girl in Seattle.

Somewhere over the years, I lost the red flannel. I suppose there is a small chance that I may have outgrown it as well.

Well, the other night I had one of my “brilliant ideas.” I went on Amazon at like 2:am in search of a red flannel. Not just any red flannel, it had to be a very close replica of the original red flannel. You know, the one he said I looked “hot” in.

I am not even sure what my line of thinking was. Okay, well I kinda do. Perhaps I was hoping to pull off the new flannel as the old flannel, just to see if it would evoke the same reaction in him again. After 17 years of being together, a girl still needs to know she has “it.”
So I am on Amazon. Now, perhaps where I went wrong is, I was looking at flannels for men. “Well, that’s okay, I do like them a little big.”

Now, my typical size in ladies is large. Since I wanted the flannel to be oversized, I figured I should order an extra-large. Makes sense, right? Then I thought “Hmm, maybe I should go up a size just in case it shrinks after washing.” So, I decided on a 2x in mens.
I am sure you guys can see where this is going, However, I had no clue where I went wrong until today when Amazon dropped off my package.
Excitedly, I opened the package in hopes to recreate a moment from years ago where my husband thought I looked hot, and instead I received Paul Bunyan’s flannel.

I do not even know what to say at this point. You guys, the flannel goes past my knees!
That’s not exactly a “hot” look, that’s a, well, a, hell, I do not even know what kind of look that is! 
Actually, it is a Paul Bunyan look.
So as I am sitting here writing this post, I have my Paul Bunyan flannel in the dryer, hoping to God it will shrink about three sizes.

It won’t.

And although I love a good challenge, I really do not think there is any way in hell I can fix this.

In fact, I am willing to bet, tomorrow morning when Joe sees me wearing the Paul Bunyan flannel,  he will most likely assume I am sick or threw my back out again, and just had no energy to get dressed.

So the lesson here, I pretty much need to stay off of Amazon.


Vodka Calling Makes a Comeback!

Well, it has been a long time. So long in fact that there are like 20,000 updates to the WordPress site, and I have no idea what I am doing. I figure I will take the “I am just going to wing it” mind frame and go with it. It has kinda served me well over the last year and a half. (Depending on who you ask.)

Here’s the thing, part of the reason why I have not written in a long time is that I did not want to write or talk about what was going on in my real life. I have always wanted this to be the kind of blog where you will hear the real truth. Not the truth that is wrapped in Pinterest and Instagram fakeness. Then, when things got a little too real over here, I shut down.

For the last year and a half, September of 2019 to be exact, my husband and I were in a bad place. A very bad place where we discussed separating and even divorce. (Even writing that seems so weird, and scary) I can say there was no infidelity, there was no abuse. I do not know if that makes it better or worse. In my situation, there was never a clear-cut answer on why things got so bad, other than life just got in the way. If there had been infidelity, then that would be my answer. That would explain so much, but there was not any one specific thing, just a cumulation of many things, Life, kids, work, miscommunication, taking each other for granted. Lack of understanding. Each one of us wanting to be right and failing to see where the other was coming from. It was so bad. 

I spent the last year and a half working on my marriage, fighting hard to make it better than it had ever been. I do not think I have ever worked so hard on anything in my life. But, I wanted to tell you guys about it, because that is real life. More people should feel comfortable talking about real-life stuff and not picture-worthy stuff.

Now as much as I would love to go into the dirty details, I have to respect my husband who is way more private than I am. I will say, although it took him a little longer than it did me, he fought for the marriage as well. He has his own story and experiences to share and hopefully one day I can bring you his point of view to the blog. 

After this last year and a half, my new mantra is “You have to hit your breakdown to get to the breakthrough.” Look, I know that sounds completely cheesy, but you guys know me, that’s how I roll! But I am telling you, both my husband and I hit our breakdowns, and here we are, better than we have ever been. Is it perfect? Hell no! Does he still annoy me? Hell yeah! Do I still annoy him? Of course!!!! Marriage is freakin hard, but it is making that choice every single day to work on it.

Also, I have to say, and I hope this does not turn anyone off, but the fact is that my husband and I are in a better place because we both went to God and gave it to him. It was not easy, but the power in our marriage being restored does go to God, and I just wanted to put that out there in case anyone else reading this is struggling. Also, I HIGHLY recommend the book “The Power of a Praying Wife.”

Okay, I am sure some of you may be rolling your eyes, maybe a few of you are jotting down the book title, or maybe everyone is getting a good laugh on how I assume more than two people are reading this post.

So anyway…..

How have you guys been? I cant’ believe (for me) I am coming up on a year when Covid put us all in lockdown. I am able to go back to work on March 15th, but it will be hybrid and remote. There’s an old song from Stevie Nicks (Touched by an Angel) and one of the lines is “Everything was the same except that everything was different.” I find that particular line to be a great summary of this last year.



Late 1984.

The Parents had rented two movies from Blockbuster.

“The Karate Kid” and “The Wizard of Oz.”

I had a friend spending the night on a Friday night for a sleep over. We were young. Too young to go hang out at the mall, but old enough to have some sort of social life, in the form of sleepovers.

I really wanted to watch “The Wizard of Oz.” It was an all time favorite of mine. “The Karate Kid” just seemed to boyish. Granted, I knew nothing about the movie, other than there was karate in it, and well, I was a girly girl!

My friend wanted to watch “The Karate Kid.”

The Parents had to take me aside and gently explain to me that since my friend is a guest, perhaps we should watch the movie she wanted to watch.


Well, in those 2 hours and 7 minutes, I was transfixed. I could not take my eyes off of the television. Oh how I wanted to as popular as Ali. I mean she had two guys after her! Daniel, the new kid in town, struggling to fit in, yep, totally relate to that. Johnny, the popular guy who was a bit bitter because Ali now liked Daniel. Would a guy like that ever like me? Who can forget Mr. Miyagi? The mentor who took Daniel under his wing, and showed him the true meaning of karate.

As a young girl, I would watch “The Karate Kid” with hope and anticipation. It took me to another place, that was so different from my own school. It made me feel things that were hard to feel as a young insecure girl.

I started writing letters to Ralph Macchio, asking him “If you’re not too busy can you please send me an autograph picture?”

He did. Well, it was either him or The Parents. I suppose I will never really know.

As the years went on, “The Karate Kid” was always a favorite. I tell people all the time Ralph Macchio was my first pretend boyfriend.

For me, “The Karate Kid” was a “coming of age” movie for me.

January 1, 2021

Season 3 of “Cobra Kai” dropped on Netflix. My family stayed up all night watching it.

“Cobra Kai” takes place 34 years after the original. Same characters, same actors, and it is freaking amazing. Even my own children, who are about the same age I was when I first saw “The Karate Kid” are totally into it. To set the scene, I just ordered us all matching “Cobra Kai” sweatshirts.

Watching “Cobra Kai” I was filled with the same emotions I was 34 years earlier. Different though in some ways. The anticipation came in the form of wondering if my own children are watching with my eyes. Are they comparing themselves to Samantha like I compared myself to Ali? Are they looking at Miguel the same way I looked at Daniel?

“Cobra Kai” brought me to an old familiar place. A safe place.

January 2, 2021

In the early morning hours I found out my aunt had passed away. To say it is a devastating lost is an understatement. My aunt is the first family I have lost as an adult. I did not know how to cope. I just sat on the sofa, frozen. Wanting to do something, but not sure what that “something” was.

For 48 hours straight, I sat on the sofa, while Joe and kids let me be. For 48 hours I watched “Cobra Kai” constantly. I laughed, I cried, I mourned. Then, come Monday, I finished up the last episode for the 20th time, got myself off the sofa, took a shower and got myself ready for work.

As ridiculous as it sounds, had it not been for the distractment of “Cobra Kai” I may still be sitting on my sofa.

We all have that one movie, that one television show that evokes so many emotions in us.

Mine began in 1984 and has stayed with me all these years.

And will always continue to do so.

“Put good into the world and good will come back to you” -Kumiko Season 3 Cobra Kai


The Battle

I woke up this morning with a mixed feeling of defeat and hope. I had hope that maybe today would be the day things got better, however after the last two weeks why would today be any different?

I get very little sleep these days. I spend my nights searching Google for some sort of answers and understanding. Trying to implement new “tips” that are casually numbered 1-10 in a bold black font.

I have been down this road before. Sixteen years ago, my Google searches would be all about gastroschisis. There was never too much I could read. I wanted to read it all, armed with knowledge so I could fight for my daughter before she was even born.

A few years later, my Google searches would change to autism. Same routine, just a different topic. I would read all that I could, hoping I could be armed with the knowledge to fight for my daughter when she could not fight for herself.

Again, a few years after that it would be “epilepsy” that consumed my searches. I had to know everything, possible prevention, and hopeful for a cure so I could be prepared if and when the next seizure hit.

I know how to fight, I know how to advocate. The last 16 years have taught me that. And, if I may say, I am pretty damn good at it. Or I was, until now,

Looking back, I can see this has been going on for a very long time. It would come in waves. Once the wave passed, I would ride the current until the next one hit. Sometimes it would be a few months, other times maybe a year? It’s hard to understand some things as you are living it. It’s only now, the last week or so that I have a better understanding of my next battle. A battle that we have unknowingly fought for a very long time. A battle that I very much feel I am fighting for someone else, or maybe it is all of us?

There’s lots of stigma attached to it, which is maybe why it took me so long to realize what was in front of me? Or maybe just denial? Or maybe because I am such a fixer, I figured “any day now” everything would be fine.

It’s scary. It’s an evil monster who can take your life and the life of those around you. I can see how some people would not see Him until it is too late. He brings on feelings of worthlessness, and defeat. He shines an invisible mirror into your soul, and the only reflection looking back is emptiness. He makes you question everything you ever knew, and He will continue to do so until you get help. And, let’s not even talk about what can happen if one chooses to not get help.


The silent killer.



As many of you know, Gracie, my 15-year-old daughter has both epilepsy and autism. She has been on meds since March, after a very long stressful day of multiple seizures. The current goal, is for Gracie to be one-year seizure-free, without adjusting the meds, before we can start weaning her off of them.

Early this morning, like 4 am early, both girls come to get me. “Mom, Gracie thinks she is going to have a seizure!” This is typical for Gracie. Thankfully, many times she knows when one is coming. She takes the necessary precautions to make sure she is in a safe place if and when the seizure hits. So, at 4am, Gracie and I found ourselves watching old episodes of “Roseanne” on my big comfy sofa.

I was watching her but pretending not to watch her because she hates being watched. I am also a crazy paranoid mother who sucks under pressure so I do not know how to not watch her. I am waiting. I already texted Joe, who at this time is already at work. He wants to be updated as well.

I keep asking her “How do you feel?” “Do you feel any better?” “Do you still think you are going to have a seizure?” Gracie usually has a rapid heartbeat and feels dizzy right before a seizure, so I try to do what I can to assess the situation.

Everything seems fine. There is no seizure, which is exactly what we want. No seizure, but something is not adding up to me. I need to delve a little bit deeper.

“Gracie, can you tell me what you were doing before you felt like you were going to have a seizure?”


“Like, now. Can you tell me now what you were doing before you felt like you were going to have a seizure?”

“Yes. I was watching videos of people having seizures.”

“Ummm, what?”

At this point I am confused, yet everything is making sense.

So basically, Gracie wanted to see videos of people having seizures. Since she is the one always having the seizure, she never sees what she looks like. She was curious, did a quick youtube search, found some videos of people (and I believe one dog) having a seizure. It freaked her out. It freaked her out because it’s a freakin seizure and no matter how you try to make it sound pretty, it just isn’t. Because she is no so freaked out her heart starts to beat fast- Boom, she thinks she is going to have a seizure when in reality she just needs to NOT watch videos of seizures and 4 freakin a.m in the morning.

Also, she put in a request for eyeliner, because apparently having the right kind of eyeliner will make any seizure better. That is what I call “Gracie Logic” and many times, I just have to go with it.



Day 10: The Video

I finally saw the video of my son, AJ, reuniting with his “dad” after 19 years. It’s only a 37-second video, but I have probably watched it at least 37 times. You see my son walking down a long empty corridor. (From what he told me, airports are so empty now) Because I know my son, I knew his long stride confident walk was also filled with nervousness. A tall, much older, much heavier person emerges from the sideline. Immediately I knew it was The Ex. I knew this because who the hell else would be walking up to my son, right? As soon as AJ saw him, he settled his one suitcase on the ground, and then they embraced. A long, silent embrace. It was both bittersweet and slightly weird to see.

Together, they walked out of view of the camera to the other family members waiting in the corner. That was it.

My son looked happy, and strangely at peace. All these years my son was very vocal about not wanting to see his dad. I thought I was doing the right thing by respecting his wishes. Maybe I should have forced it? I have no idea. Most likely not. Maybe in some strange way, his dad is what has been missing in him all these years? Maybe my son had an emptiness to him that I had no idea went back to his dad? All I know is in that 37-second video clip. AJ looked happy and at peace.

This new chapter of our book is only a few pages in. Who’s to say how this chapter or the next will end? All I know for certain is everything has played out just the way it was supposed to play out. And no matter what, I will offer unconditional love to my son. Whether he needs me from afar or close by.


Day 8: “Dreams”

Ever since my son left for Virginia, I have been having very weird, scary dreams. I have always had kind of off-putting unusual dreams, so in a way, this is nothing new. Except it is. These dreams are at the next level. I would wake up shaking, confused, not knowing where I was. These dreams always involved some sort of cheating, usually by me. And for reasons that I am unclear of, always involved my husband, ex-husband, and an assortment of other random guys. Like, WTH?!

I am sure there is some psychotherapist out there who would have a field day analyzing my dreams from the last week, I, however, do not have it in me. I almost felt like the leading lady on “Nightmare on Elm Street” who was afraid to close her eyes because Freddy Kruger would make an appearance.

Now if you remember, thankfully, my son called me yesterday. It was what I needed just at the right time. I needed to hear his voice to make sure he was okay.

Do you want to know what I dreamed about last night? Jeremy and Audrey Roloff from “Little People Big World.” We were celebrating Christmas, and Jeremey and Audrey were having a slight disagreement. I had to be the peacemaker.

You guys, I do not even watch that show so I have NO IDEA where this is coming from!

If I do not dream about kittens and puppies, or Brad Pitt and Adam Levine tonight, I just may need to throw in the towel…or have another shot of vodka.


Day 7

He finally called! It has been one week since he left under some not too good circumstances. I honestly had no idea if or when I would hear from him again, If you have been reading these posts, you guys already know that. But, he called, and I am so thankful.

Now, during the conversation, there seem to be a couple discrepancies over the last twenty-six years. I believe those will work its self out in time. No need to go down that road just yet. He said he has been gaining weight, I told him “That’s because your stepmom knows how to cook and I do not.” We got a good laugh out of that. He enjoys the country life, although it has been an adjustment for him, and there is a dog. A dog is cool because he has always wanted a dog.

He wants me to resolve things with my sister because “If it weren’t for her, none of this would have happened” and that is exactly why I need more time. I need for her to admit where she went wrong, and she was wrong by not giving me the “heads up” that she put AJ and his Dad in contact. I am not asking for much, but I need her to see that. I did not expect her to ask permission, I feel as her sister at the very least I was due a “heads up.” I explained that to AJ, and for the record, he understands my side.

Thank you guys, all of you who gave me hope and told me to hang in there. Thank you for allowing me to vent. Like I told my son, the story is not over, we are just on to the next chapter. There’s plenty more to be written.

Now if you are still here tomorrow, I can tell you about how I may have had something to do with my daughter slicing her finger (almost) off.


Day 5

A family member gave me an update on my son today. “He is doing good, waking up every morning and helping out on the campground. His Dad is going to fix the motorcycle so AJ can find a job.”

It was a weird day today. Just all over the place with my emotions. I had a great conversation with my sister. Not the one I am not speaking to at the moment, but the funny supportive sister. I was giving her the above update on AJ, her nephew.  “It’s been four fucking days, of course, everything is good!” Told ya, she is pretty funny!

My sister and son have a pretty close bond.  Back in the early years, my son and I would go over to their apartment everyday to hang out while my ex was at work….or the strip clubs. My sister and her husband would let us all come over when there was never any money for food or diapers. My son and my sister’s daughter were the closest of friends. They played together, ate lunch together, and pretty much drove us crazy tag-teaming us with their antics. They are only 5 months apart, so you can imagine all the fun chaos those two brought on. From day one there was a close bond between my sister and son. She truly loves him, and although she is so supportive with me, and lets me vent to her, nothing will ever take away the bond she feels toward her nephew. Nor should it.

I also got word that my son’s stepmother reads this blog. I told ya, my family is nuts! I do not mind her reading the blog, it’s a public blog. Anything I write here I would say to anyone in person. Four days ago I was told that the stepmother wanted to reach out to me. I was hesitant. I mean what is there to talk about? Pretty much nothing unless she has a good pot roast recipe she can send my way. I am sure she has already heard I am a horrible cook. And I am, I can own it! Anyway, after some convincing from a family member “Jennifer, let me give her your number. She will reach out. She will put your mind at ease. What do you have to lose?” I am all like “Okay, Cool!”

I have yet to hear from her. So, I am going to put it out here. “To The Mrs., if you do in fact read this blog, please feel you can reach out. Whether it is through message or text. I do not want anything from you other than the assurance that my son is okay. As a mother yourself, I hope you would understand that.”

Moving on.

My youngest son, Vinnie (19) told my husband and me “Ya know, I think AJ did not know how to say good-bye, that’s why he left the way he did.”

He makes a good point. My two boys are not on the best of terms right now, so for Vinnie to come at it objectively, it makes sense. I have no idea if that is the reason or not, but it does make sense.

We are going over to my sister-in-law’s house tomorrow. They have no idea what is going on with AJ so obviously, that will come up. I am a little nervous, a little hesitant. I know I will cry. I am still emotional. And, just talking about it brings on the tears, but we can’t avoid it. Thankfully, I have plenty of vodka.

Anyway, as always, thanks for listening. I hope all of you are doing better than I am…and if you are not doing good, I am here to listen too.