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The Meditation Path

365 days ago I started meditating. Truthfully, 365 days ago my therapist made me start meditating. She challenged me to do it twice a week. And I did it because I couldn’t NOT do a challenge. But it wasn’t pretty. I would put it off until the two days before I saw her. I begrudgingly took my meditative position on the floor with much sighing and fidgeting. But only after vacuuming, rearranging the pillows on the couch, doing dishes, brushing the cat and doing every other conceivable thing to procrastinate. Then I would meditate. For ten whole, excruciatingly long minutes. I would cross it off my to-do list with borderline violence, the pen pushing so hard on the paper it left a hole. I practically saluted my therapist when I reported I had indeed meditated two whole times in a single week — Mission complete, ma’am!

Basically I look like this. Except in my living room. In a bathrobe. And sometimes lying down.

Basically I look like this. Except in my living room. In a bathrobe. And sometimes lying down.

Then my therapist told me to meditate three times a week. I sighed. I rolled my eyes. I slumped down on my therapist’s couch. But then something happened. Somehow I began meditating more than three times a week. It’s possible that it had something to do with discovering Insight Timer, an meditation app. Not only does Insight Timer offer lots of guided meditations ranging in time from two minutes to one hour, it also keeps track of your stats.  It tells me how many days in a row I have meditated, my cumulative total session time, and (wait for it …) it has bar graphs! EEEEE!!! (And no, I’m not getting paid tow rite this post.)

Oooh! A Bar Graph!!! Ahhhh!

Oooh! A Bar Graph!!! Ahhhh!

I KNOW – IT’S AWESOME. Especially for a slightly competitive person  who might possibly thrive on PR’s and milestones. I know some of you are probably thinking, “But meditation shouldn’t be a competitive sport. The Buddha wouldn’t approve!” Fair point. But here’s the thing, I’m no longer doing it to beat last week’s minutes or to get to the next milestone of consecutive days. At least not primarily. I do it because it’s a daily habit. If a little competition with myself helps me cultivate a healthy habit, well . . . bring it on!

You’re probably wondering how meditation transformed my life. Have I miraculously  stopped yelling at my kid? Am I soaking up every moment of every day in a state of perpetual bliss? Am I more patient and loving with my spouse? The answers are no, no, and no.

I still yell, although I am slower to anger and much more aware of when I am about to lose it.  I have a deeper understanding that not every moment is meant to be soaked up and loved. Some of our life involves waiting patiently for change, seeking solace in the impermanence of every moment — good or bad. AND THIS IS OKAY. I asked Demetri if he thought I was more patient since I began meditating and he looked at me blankly, paused for about 20 seconds and said, “You started meditating?” He then became very busy with his glass of wine. I took that as a ‘no’. But I am on the path of being more patient and loving with myself. And that, my friends, is no small task. A year ago I couldn’t even find the path, but now I’m on it. I AM ON THE PATH. Or at least I’m on a path. Semantics.


Don’t Kill Your Television (At Least Until After the 3rd Blizzard)

Here in Boston we’re staring down snow day number five out of the last 10 days of school. It hasn’t been called yet, but as we’re expecting another foot of snow I’d say things are looking good/bad (depending on if you’re a six year old or the parent of a six year old.) Not that we haven’t had our glorious snow day moments of sledding, snowperson building, hot chocolate sipping, couch cuddling, crafting, and cooking. We have. But we’ve also had tantrums, crying, whining, door slamming, and, once, a chair throwing. Oh, and shoveling, snow blowing, de-icing, roof leaking, and pre-storm grocery shopping. We all feel a little cooped up. A smidgen of cabin fever. The teeniest bit of, you know, INSANITY.

Thankfully, I have a plan.

Last week, between snow storms, I had coffee with a friend. When I asked how she and her family had managed during the two feet of snow and two days of no school, she said, “Yeah, Jillian watched five hours of TV straight.” I waited for the hurried apology that usually follows such a confession. The and-oh-my-god-I-feel-so-bad-about-it or the and-I’m-such-a-terrible-parent-and-person. But instead, my friend just said,  “I got my work done and no one yelled.” And she didn’t even whisper the part about five hours of TV. SHE IS THE MOST BRILLIANT AND AWESOMEST FRIEND EVER.

I have felt bad about TV for years. YEARS. I worry that I let Zoey watch too much. That her brain is rotting out of her head and it’s all my fault. That all this excessive TV watching proves I’m not a good enough parent.  And so I make her turn off the TV even when I’m fatigued, in pain, and frankly, have no business interacting with another living thing. Then I yell. Sometime she cries. And things are worse. And I curse myself for not doing what I know I need to do, which is use the TV to my advantage.

Lately, I’m getting better at reasoning with myself. It’s only PBS Kids. It’s not like it’s FOX news. Or porn. I try and remember that sometimes TV can keep the peace in the house. It can give us all the extra down time we need to get through the day successfully.

So that’s my big snow day plan: TV.  We will play in the snow (meaning I will watch Zoey from the living room window as she frolics about). Zoey will drink hot chocolate with fresh and buoyant  little marshmallows (Points for me! I remembered to buy marshmallows so now we can throw out the stale ones left over from 4th of July!). We will yet again make some kind of craft involving pipe cleaners, ribbon, glue, glitter, and the last remaining shreds of my patience. We will watch TV. For as long as necessary. And instead of feeling guilt ridden and ashamed, I will feel smug and joyful. Because that’s what snow days are all about. Bring it on, third blizzard of 2015! Bring. It. On.


11 Things to Know About Starting the Paleo Diet

At the beginning of January, I went to a pain clinic hoping to regain some measure of control over my back and foot pain. Fibromyalgia, I blame YOU. The first thing the doctor said to me was, “Have you ever heard of leaky gut syndrome?” And I said, “Ew. No.” He launched into a brief explanation which kind of sounded like stuff that should exit one’s body via, you know, poop, is instead absorbed by the body. He then said that not every doctor “believes” that leaky gut is a real diagnosis. AWESOME! So I may have two diagnoses that some people mistake for “crazy”. But, on the plus side, leaky gut sounds super sexy, don’t you think?

But I digress. The doctor immediately recommended that I eat a Paleo diet. I quickly agreed. I would much rather heal my body through food than through medication. Plus, I was already not eating gluten so how hard could it be? The doctor said, “So you can’t eat grains, dairy, sugar, or alcohol. And be strict for the first 30 days.” Then he scribbled down the name of a website and sent me on my merry way. I’ve totally got this, I thought. I’m great at specialized diets. And I don’t even drink alcohol. Bring. It. On.

But then I started reading. I was almost instantly overwhelmed. Not only is Paleo a new way of eating, it’s a whole new way of cooking and even thinking about food. At least for me. And it doesn’t include chocolate. I read and read and read. Also, I cried a little. It’s hard to undertake something of this magnitude when you already feel fatigued and in pain. But I am not one to be beaten by a diet. I mean, come on.  Finally, I felt I could possibly maybe probably give it a try. So I did. I just finished my second week. Which, by the way, is the longest I have ever gone without chocolate. I’m sure my trophy will be arriving in the mail any day now.

Many of the blogs and message boards I encountered are written by people who have been eating Paleo for years. They have their rhythm down. They have great recipes and a lot of great information to share. But some of these people have forgotten what it’s like to start Paleo. Clearly, I am not a Paleo expert, but I wanted to share a few tips about getting started.

1. You need at least three days to read, plan, shop, and cook before you officially start.
This is not an easy diet to just jump into. It takes a lot of research and recipe finding to get started. You will need to shop for unfamiliar ingredients (like coconut aminos and grass fed beef gelatin). And it helps a TON if you do a little bit of cooking before hand. I made this chili and these muffins and then froze most of it.

2. You must do a meal plan.
I hate to break it to you, but you will not be making well balanced and tasty Paleo food on the fly. Especially not during your first week. Plan ahead at least three days and put grocery shopping on your schedule. Save your meal plans so you can loop back to them in a few weeks. If you do not do this, you will find yourself curled up in a ball on the couch with tears leaking down your face because you have no idea how to feed yourself with the food that’s in the house. True story.

3. You may feel like total crap for the first . . . little while.
My second day on the diet I was convinced I was getting the stomach flu. I felt horrible. But, after consulting google and many message boards, I found out this is normal. Wouldn’t it have been lovely if my doctor had mentioned it? Apparently, adjusting to the Paleo way of eating can take 3 days to 3 weeks. During this time our bodies may show signs of detoxing, such as: flu-like symptoms, nausea, dizziness, fatigue, frequent urination, irritability, etc. You can read more about it here.

4. Paelo makes you dumb.
Well, okay, not technically. But it often causes preeeety thick brain fog. I can fully attest to this. I was co-leading a meeting the other night and someone asked us to give a brief history of our group. I looked around, smiling, thinking, Hey! It’ll be super interesting to hear about this! Then I realized that *I* was expected to give the history as I, in fact, am the founder of the group. So, don’t schedule any big job interviews or presentations the first week on Paleo. It’s kind of like, Um, excuse me? Can anyone give me directions out of this paper bag?

5. Gimme an ‘F’!
Sadly, the ‘F’ is not for fantastic. It’s for fatigue. The first week may be filled with it. Not tiredness. Fatigue. I spent large parts of the first few days in bed, only coming out to cook and eat.

6. You might not be getting enough calories  . . . especially when you first start.
Maybe it’s because you’re not feeling well or maybe it’s because you’re too tired to cook, but you may not be getting enough calories. My third day on Paleo I was feeling extra fatigued. Per the advice from a Paleo site, I went to FitDay to total my calories. Even though I ate breakfast, lunch, and dinner, and felt totally full, I had eaten less than 900 calories. Not enough. I immediately ate half a sweet potato and half an avocado and felt better. (That’s right! Avocado’s on the menu, baby! Gimme a ‘G’ for guacamole!)

7. Join an online support group or message board.
I am not a fan of online support groups. But, in this case, the information from these groups has been super helpful. In fact, it was one of these groups, not my doctor (Yup. Third time I’ve mentioned this. Nope, not bitter), that explained about the ‘low-carb flu’ and why I was feeling so horrible. People doing Paleo have the best info on how to do it, how to feel good while doing it, and how you can tweak your plan to make it right for you.

8. Freeze stuff.
If you know you like a recipe, make double and freeze it in individual batches. Paleo involves a lot of cooking and it is totally awesome when you can pull a good meal out of the freezer.

9. The grass fed beef gelatin everyone talks about is actually good . . .
Because it’s flavorless and you can dump it in smoothies. The idea of eating beef gelatin – a substance derived from collagen found in animal bones – totally freaked me out. But it really does have some health benefits. Not to brag or anything, but I think my skin is already looking better! Plus, Zoey is totally fascinated by it and will eat anything that has gelatin in it. Of course, she shrieks, “I’m eating cow bones!!!” the whole time. But still.

10. Save your bacon grease!
Pre-Paleo I didn’t eat much bacon. And If I did, I would always stare at the grease with open hostility wondering how to best dispose of it. Now I save it. ‘Hoard’ might even be a better word choice. I’ve been known to snap at anyone who goes too near the pan, “Don’t touch my bacon grease!” The reason is this: vegetables (or anything, really) taste awesome when sautéed in bacon grease. So when you’re making your sweet potato or zucchini pasta (as you most assuredly will be) the bacon grease comes in handy.

Ooops! Wrong kind of bacon! BTW, I still want a separate movie for Willard and Rusty . . . THEY HAVE A SPECIAL STORY THAT MUST BE TOLD!

Ooops! Wrong kind of bacon! BTW, I still want a separate movie for Willard and Rusty . . . THEY HAVE A SPECIAL STORY THAT MUST BE TOLD!

11. It will get easier-ish. 
I’m through the second week and my body is starting to adjust, my mind is clearing, and I have at least an inkling of what I’m doing. My freezer stockpile is growing and I have cooked some really delicious meals. So, yeah, easier-ish. I bet in another few weeks it may even be full on ‘kind-of-easy’.

I’m going to wait the full 30 days before I evaluate Paleo’s effect on my fibromyalgia pain and fatigue. I’ll keep you posted!

What are your Paleo tips?

And Then My Hope Was Restored!

I’ve had eight doctor’s appointments in the past two weeks. While I could tell you about the pain clinic (insighful!), or the new diet they put me on (Paleo!), or even the new hippie body and energy work I’m doing (craniosacral and moxibustion!), I’m not going to. Instead, I am going to use this sacred blogging space to tell you something else.


Screen Shot 2015-01-21 at 11.25.48 AMThey’re practically lightsabers.

Screen Shot 2015-01-21 at 11.17.49 AM

Maybe you knew this. Maybe you, unlike me, are brave during your exam. But I, probably unlike you, throw my arms over my face and pretend that no one can see me until it’s over. But the lightsaber/speculum made me crack up. To the point that my doctor was all, “Um, you really have to stop shaking and laughing now.”

"I am your doctor!"

“I am your doctor!”

Then she added, “You know, This is harder with a moving target.” For some reason that was sobering. So I attempted to control my laughter. I attempted to study the poster on the ceiling of a roly-poly puppy trying to climb over a low stone wall. The phrase, “You can do it!” was in bold at the bottom. And I thought about how the last few months had really kind of sucked health wise. Lots of pain, trouble walking, no energy. The same stuff that always comes and goes. I looked at that poster and thought, I can do it! I can be that dog and get over the wall!

No, not really. What I actually thought was how I hate inspirational posters. But that thought was closely followed by, Huh. A light-up speculum. Who knows what they’ll think up next!? And that, my friends, is the medical community providing hope (and light!) in the darkness that is chronic illness. Sort of.

Clearly, I’ll take my hope wherever I can get it.

The Hamster Wheel

Having chronic illness is a lot like being on a hamster wheel. We’re going-going-going! We’re keeping up! Woo-hoo! Check us out! And then . . . WHOOPS! We get thrown off the wheel. We have to lay in those damn wood shavings for a bit and then, eventually, we have to get back up. Getting back up is harder than it looks. Because it actually doesn’t look like much of anything. It looks like laying low. It looks like starting from the very beginning . . . again. And most of all it looks like teeny tiny hamster-sized steps.

I fell off the wheel about a week ago. I’m fatigued beyond reason. The pain is ramped up. But those two things I can deal with. It’s this last thing that’s keeping me down. My feet hurt. Like really hurt. Just walking through Whole Foods to get five items is too much. Walking the dog to the end of the block is beyond my ability. Standing and talking to another parent at school pick-up is torture.

And do you know what caused this mess? Going to a craft store and standing for too long. A CRAFT STORE. This is not a cool story. It’s not a hey-I-apprehended-a-purse-snatcher-over-the-weekend story. It’s not even an I-ran-a-10k-this-weekend story. It’s a lame story. I mean, if I had been horribly burned by a glue gun or if a shelf of early Christmas decorations had fallen on me, that would be something. But no. My story is that I was at a craft store, you know, standing still.

All of last school year and through the summer I dealt with worse foot pain that this. But then I started acupuncture and it got almost completely better. And for some reason, this getting better and then getting worse has thrown me off the wheel. It’s thrown me off hard. Getting better-ish and then getting worse-ish over and over and over again is what chronic illness is all about. And I thought I’d made my peace with it. But apparently my feet haven’t.

I’m trying to remember all the things that help me get back on the wheel of relative health. Or at least of relative peace in my mind and heart. So here is what I know about surviving the worse-ish part of chronic illness:

1. Keep any health related appointments.
It’s tempting to hole up and stay buried under a blanket with a bag of chocolate chips. But if there’s any possible way to keep my appointments I do it. I may show up in sweat pants with unwashed hair, but I show up. Yesterday I went to acupuncture and today I am going to therapy. HA! I am SO winning this one!

2. Meditate.
Check! Today I’ve already meditated once. Lately though I’ve been meditating twice a day. I always use guided meditations because my mind is too jumpy to be left on it’s own. Meditating is soothing and lets me have a moment of peace in my body. And, frankly, in times like this, it is something to do. I can only read or watch tv or do anything that involves standing (i.e.- cooking) for so long before my body’s had enough.

3. Do something nice for someone else.
It’s good for me to get outside my own head and think about someone else. And actually doing something for someone else is not only a distraction, but it makes me feel useful. I made chocolate covered strawberries for the neighbor . . . and yes, I totally licked the bowl. Gold star for me!

4. Remember that I am like the weather.
This means remembering that my pain, my fatigue, my anger are like the weather — if I wait just a minute it will change. The shift may be subtle. But what I’m feeling now is only that – now. Knowing that this isn’t forever is a huge relief. That’s right, baby! I’m like a hurricane and a spring day all in one!

5. Look at my thoughts, not from them. 
I’m trying really hard to observe my thoughts from the shore instead of putting myself right in the middle of the class five thought rapids. This looks like me going, “Hey, look! Here comes a thought! I’m feeling anger at being physically limited and in pain. What an interesting thought. Let me watch it float on down the river” vs. “OHMYGOD I AM TOTALLY DROWNING IN PAIN AND ANGER AND I CAN’T A BREATHE AND I AM GOING TO DIE HERE IN THIS SUPER PAINFUL AND SCARY MOMENT!” I get an A for effort on this one. So that translates to  . . . a half a point?

6. Write.
Writing every day makes me feel useful. Working on projects makes me feel connected to a larger timeline. It lets me leave my body and go to a place other than pain. And hey, look! I’m writing now! Another point for me!

7. Have something good to read.
Please. I always have something good to read. It’s an escape hatch.

8. Have something good to watch.
Okay, so I’m struggling with this one. I need a new show. I tried to watch the free episode of Homeland last night but then I realized that I’m behind by at least one season. *sigh*

9. Eat healthily.
I’m all over this one! Stuffed zucchini and peppers has already been made and it’s in the fridge waiting to be heated up for tonight! I. Am. Awesome.

10. Connect.
I feel better when I reach out to friends and family. A phone call, an email, whatever. Anything to keep my world from getting too small. So if I call you today, please pick up!

So, basically, I’m winning. Do you hear that, chronic illness??? I. Am. Winning. I’m doing what I know I need to do. And I guarantee it’s WAY harder than it looks. But this how I’m fighting. This is how I am strong. See you back on the wheel, baby!

What do you do when you’re feeling worse-ish?

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A Letter to Parents of White Kids with Straight Hair

Dear Parents of White Kids with Straight Hair,

Let me ask you this: How many times was your child’s appearance negatively commented on after she/he left the house today? This week? This month? The answer for my daughter is three. Three times today in the first five minutes.

My kid has hair that is not like your kid’s hair. My kid has hair that is curly and big and awesome. That is not to say that your child’s hair is not also awesome. It is. Your child is told her hair is awesome because she sees it on magazine covers, on news anchors, on Barbie dolls.  She is constantly given the message that her hair is good and pretty and normal. But here’s the thing. My kid is not told these same things. My kid is told her hair is big and weird and ugly. My daughter gets the negative messages from the same places your child gets the positive ones – TV, magazines, the internet. And also from somewhere else — from you and your child.

I know you don’t mean to. I know you have good intentions. I get it. Most of your kids have never seen someone with hair like my daughter’s. It’s different. It maybe seems a little wild. It maybe seems a little shocking. This is what I want you and your child to know:

  • Coming up to my child with a slight sneer and saying, “Why does your hair look like THAT?” is not okay
  • Coming up to my daughter and touching/grabbing/stroking her hair, even out of genuine curiosity, is not okay
  • Telling my daughter “Your hair is weird/ugly/gross” is not okay
  • Asking my daughter, “Why is your hair so big?” is not okay
  • Exclaiming to my child, “OH MY GOD! LOOK AT YOUR HAIR! I bet your mom has quite a hard time combing it!” is not okay
  • Voicing your opinion about her hair is not necessary

I know your kid (heck, even you!) might be curious. But please know that there is a fine line between curiosity and intrusiveness. There is a fine line between observation and making someone feel “other”. And please know there is a huge fat freaking line between inquisitiveness and personal space. Don’t cross it. Teach your kids not to cross it.

Which brings me to another point. TEACH YOUR KIDS. It is not my job, and it is most certainly not my daughter’s job, to teach your child how to interact with someone who looks different than he/she does. It is your job to teach your child how to ask questions with kindness, how to be respectfully curious, and how to make all kids feel welcome. Please, do not just stand there smiling tightly and avoiding eye contact while your child insults my daughter. Don’t wait for me to step in. This is it! This is a teaching moment! Yay! As parents we live for teaching moments! But please remember it’s your teaching moment.

Look, I know it’s hard. I know it may feel uncomfortable or embarrassing or just plain weird to talk to your kids about big hair and skin color and differences. And that’s why I will help you, support you, engage with you, and probably even learn from you. We’re in this together after all. But do not expect me to do it for you.

And you know how I said it’s your teaching moment? Well, I guess it’s mine too. Except I’m teaching my daughter something different. I’m teaching her how to deal with rude comments that poke at the essence of who she is what she looks like. I’m teaching her how to respond to things that make her feel like she does not belong, that she’s not normal. I’m helping her find ways to stop people from touching her body without permission.

That’s right — touching her body without permission. Please, please, please understand this. It is most definitely your job to teach your kid NOT to touch my child’s hair. It is never okay. It is not okay when you tell me, “Oh, but her hair is just so inviting!” It is not okay when you tell me, “But her hair is just so beautiful!” It is not okay when you tell me, “Oh, who wouldn’t want to touch her hair!” It. Is. Never. Okay. Teach your child now. Teach it before it happens. Because when it happens it is happening to my daughter. And my daughter is not a lesson to be learned.

If you have questions, ask me. Email me. Call me. I really do want to talk to you. I want to help you understand. Just one thing though, please think about when/how you do it. What are you teaching my daughter about her hair when you say in front of her, “Well, thank GOD my child doesn’t have hair like THAT. I just don’t have the patience.”

I really need you guys to have my back on this. And I need you to teach your kids. I’d really like my amazing, wonderful, beautiful daughter to be able to get to her classroom, the soccer field, the grocery store without hair harassment.

With so much love,

Who WOULDN’T Want to Hire Me?

So, the other day I saw a job posting for this little PT gig that sounded interesting. I wouldn’t be saving the world personally, but I would be helping someone who was. “What the heck,” I thought. “I’ve got nothing to lose! I’ll just apply!” I began updating my resume for the first time in seven years and quickly realized I did have something to lose. Several things, in fact. Primarily my dignity and self-worth. But I forged ahead and finished the damn thing. It wasn’t exactly impressive. I felt it was lacking a little . . . depth. Contrary to popular opinion of SAHM’s, I had not been at home eating bon-bons. (Well, okay. I did it once — something about irony and social commentary on the unappreciated roles of mothers.) The point is, I have been doing stuff for the last 6 years. Lots of stuff. Stuff that not every person can do well. The point is: I HAVE SKILLS. Skills that I am sure will translate to the business world, you know, in some way. So, behold! My true resume!

Computer Skills:

  • Ability to Facebook while cooking dinner and overseeing general safety of other employees
  • Created multi-tab, 18 column spreadsheet ranking all area preschools across various categories
  • Extensive knowledge of internet resources (Huffington Post, Allrecipes, Twitter, Pinterest and various  blogs)
  • Blogging

Leadership Skills

  • Proven track record of readying all employees to leave the house on time, with clothes on (teeth may or may not be brushed)
  • Development of employee social and emotional improvement through motivational speaking, counting, and imprisonment time outs
  • Created, authorized, and implemented impressive demonstrations of  parental power on a regular basis to get employees to bend to my will make good choices

Multitasking Skills:

  • Puh-leese. NEXT QUESTION.

Organizational Skills:

  • Oversaw the health, education, sociability, athletic achievement, and scheduling all of employees all while carrying on conversations about American Girl doll accessories and/or the three-banded armadillo
  • Kept track of bathroom habits of youngest employee, including frequency, content, and clean-up
  • 6+ year history of never letting any employee run out of clean underwear
  • Ability to locate swimming goggles, the skirt with the butterflies on it, and “that necklace with the thing hanging from it” at any time
  • Successful planning and implementation of 6 hot dinners, 5 packed lunches, and 5 healthy breakfasts on a weekly basis

Communication Skills:

  • Effective use of the Laser-Beam-Stare-of-Doom to achieve general compliance, workplace stability, and prevention of all hell breaking loose
  • Proven track record in explaining death, the force of gravity, proper table manners, and how a baby is made in a non-threatening and non-shaming manner
  • Limited profanity while combing out Kaya’s %&#((* American Girl doll hair
  • Excellent “interested face” while hearing about the made-up and extensive rules to the self-explanatory game of  “Throw the Ball in The Laundry Basket” for 187th time
  • Ability to summarize entire days and/or existential theories in 140 characters or less

Diplomacy Skills:

  • Bribed Motivated employees using candy and spare change to maintain workplace harmony and productivity
  • Moderated a variety of intense negotiations, including (but not limited to) the importance of wearing pants, why we don’t stick boogers on the wall, and the commencement of bath time
  • Superior culinary convincing skills, i.e., the “onion” in the stew is really just a potato and is therefor edible by all employees
  • able to administer the correct dosage of unflavored liquid medication without physical injury to any party

Other Things I Can Do LIKE A BOSS:

  • Lip-sync to ’80’s  pop ballads while using various household items as the microphone
  • Wicked good car dancing and kitchen dancing routines
  • Recite dialogue from “Frozen”
  • Make the World’s Best Granola Ever and the Bestest Apple Pie in All the Land
  • Wield a glue gun with limited burn damage to people or things
  • Read any book with “the voices”
  • Can catch throw up in bare hands and wipe dirty butts but, frankly, looking to advance beyond this particular job requirement

What are your special parenting skills?

I tried to figure out where this pic originally came from so I could give credit, but when I clicked on the link my computer blocked me saying it would lead to nudity. So then I tried even harder but my computer's a prude.

I tried to figure out where this pic originally came from so I could give credit, but when I clicked on the link my computer blocked me saying it would lead to nudity. So then I tried even harder but my computer’s a prude.