Those teenage summer days.

It is an absolutely gorgeous day in south jersey today.  On my way home from work, I had the Windows down and the stereo up.  Billy Joel’s “Piano Man” came on.  Anyone who knows me, know I LOVE Billy Joel.  I love Billy Joel for a lot of reasons, but I think the biggest reason is; it brings me back to my teenage years.    

On a day like today, we would be on our way to LBI, an island south of all those awful jersey shore people.  It is quiet and family friendly.  It’s where I spent most of every summer as a kid.  As a teenager, we would go down, I would sit on the beach and pretend to watch my friends surf.  I wouldn’t actually watch them, I was too busy reading a magazine or just sleeping.  Listening to the waves crash against the shore still puts me to sleep today.  We talked about our dreams and what amazing lives we were going to have.  Life was good.  Life was great.  Life was simple.

As I was driving home in lunch hour traffic, I remembered the excitement, the feeling of having my whole life ahead of me.  There were a few musts for me back then.  No kids, ever.  I didn’t like them and didn’t want them.  I was going to live in New York City.  Nyc always fascinated me.  Something to do anytime of the day or night, the people, the traffic, the noise.  I was going to be someone.  I didn’t know who yet, but I was going to make an impact on this world.  Which leads right into the next must…no marriage for me.  Why would I want to answer to anyone, after having to answer to my parents all of my life? 

Oh my, how things have changed.  We all grew up, most of us got married, some of us had kids, and I never got that shitty studio apartment in the city.  I’m proud of who I’ve become and I’m proud of who my friends grew up to be.  The question is, does my 17 year old self, feel the same way?  She’s still hiding inside me somewhere.  But I think she’s happy for me, for us.


St. Baldrick’s

It’s the little things in life that get me excited.  Falling asleep before ten.  Having a break-down free day.Going to the St. Baldrick’s charity event this weekend.  It’s going to be fun.  Not only do I get to drink green beer and watch my stepfather get his head shaved, I will be supporting research grants for all different forms of childhood cancers.

My stepfather does this every year and I miss it every time.  I would shave my head too, but I have grown quite attached to my hair.  I really don’t think anyone wants to see me bald anyway.  I know it’s for the millions of children that don’t have a choice.  They don’t have the luxury of deciding what bow to put in their hair.  They are fighting with every bone in their little tiny bodies, to live. To survive.

Something I take I take all this granted.  I get up every morning.  Sure, I’ve got aches and pains, and an anger that rivals Mel Gibson’s.  But, I’m healthy.  My babies are healthy.  My husband is healthy.  (Do you get where I’m going with this?). We are lucky.  Too many families are not so lucky.  Too families have to watch their precious babies die.

We have made so many advances in cancer treatment, yet no cure.  That’s where St. Baldrick’s comes in.  They fund grants for cancer research.  I’m proud to be a donor and I’m proud of my stepfather for being a “shavee”.  If you would like to donate or participate here is the website:

Ba ba go to hell.

What the hell is wrong with my children?  Are they intentionally trying to get me arrested today? 

It has been a long week and it is only Tuesday.  I am sick and I am tired.  So, this seems like the perfect week to fuss like they did when they had colic.  I cannot make them happy.  Lord knows, I pulled every trick out of my little mommy hat.  Wanna know what worked?  Singing ba ba black sheep.  Fine I will sing ba ba black sheep.  For two hours.  TWO.  Have you ever sung anything for two hours?  It literally makes your brain go numb. 

I found a video of the song.  (While I was singing).  Not the same, obviously, because the crying instantly started again.  Have you ever heard two babies scream in unison?  I have.  So, I sang until my brain went numb.  Guess what?  Twinkle twinkle little star, not the same.  Back to ba ba freaking black sheep.  Finally, they went to sleep.

The End.


Say it ain’t so!!!!

Oh dear, it’s happening and I can’t stop it.  Although, I know it is the progression in all healthy babies, I feared this day.  I suspect most moms of multiples do.  I don’t think I’m that crazy for dreading this day. 


Crawling mean mobility and mobility means, new dangers in my house.  Which means, I have to baby proof everything.  Stupid door locks, which I have yet to master, gates for me to trip over when I’m half asleep.  Bumpers on Sharp corners. Ok, maybe that one would have come in handy before the babes were here. 

I know that this is a very important milestone.  And I realize that some parents can only dream of their babies being mobile.  And to those parents, I say, I am sorry, and wish you nothing but happiness and peace.  But, in my life right now, this is my nightmare. 

Two little boys crawling, then walking, then running around the house.  Doing destructive things, wrestling each other, the dog, and the cats.  (Which the cats will win that fight 100% of the time). The dog will always let them win.  She’s good like that.

The question is, will I make it out in one piece?


Confessions of a crazy mad mommy.

I have some confessions.

I like making baby food.  I think its because I couldn’t breastfeed the babes.  I really was so sad about the boob thing.  I guess it just wasn’t in the cards for us.  But being able to go pick out fruits and vegetables and make it into something they can eat, provides me so much satisfaction.

I love being a mom to twin boys.  It truly is something special.  I am beginning to see the bond they have with each other and it is amazing.  I hope I can always nurture that bond and they grow to be best friends.

I like working.  I feel a sense of pride when told “job well done.”.  Sure there are days when I wish that I could be a stay at home mom but for me, I need that space away from the house.

When I have too much free time I get bored.  When I get bored I make really bad decisions.  Once out of sheer boredom I ripped up the carpet in our entire house.  It took two years to fully finish what I started.  I don’t have free time anymore, so that’s good.

I will do anything to make my husband happy.  I believe that his happiness comes before mine.  He spent much of his life getting shit on, and doing for other people.  I feel the need to make up for all those wrongs in his life.  He is an amazing husband and father.  Actually he is just an awesome person. 

I sometimes what to punch my husband in the face for being so awesome.  It can be hard living with someone who is so good.  I am generally a good person.  But for instance, I will not stop for someone who clearly needs help.  Jason doesn’t even think twice.  He just does.  He listens to every bums’ story.  He stops to ask perfect strangers if they need help.  I generally put blinders on when out in public.  If I don’t see it, they aren’t there.  He says hello to everyone.  Literally, everyone.  And in return EVERYONE loves him.  So, of course I want to punch him in the face.

I worry every single day about my babies.  I research websites on milestones that they should be hitting and as of now, the only one they haven’t hit is, sitting on their own.  This worries me.

Thanks for reading.  I needed to get that off my chest.  Stay tuned for the next set of confessions that start with, I hate being a twin mom.  And I hate working for a shitty company.  Really, it’s just a matter of time.


Be like me.

This is my typical day….
6:00 am- alarm goes off.

6:15am- finally get out off bed.

6:30am- make my way into the shower

7:00am- leave for work

7:01am- get to 7-11 to buy gigantic redbull

7:34 am- arrive at work late

1:45pm- leave work late

1:50pm- drive like


asshole to get home.

2:15pm- get home, kiss Jason, fight the urge to kill him, kiss babies an

2:30pm-  Jason leaves for work.  Redress babies into clothes that match and/or fit.  Play with babies for the next two hours.

4:30pm- feed babies.

4:45pm- pray babies take nap

4:46pm- realize that’s not going to happen.

4:47pm- drink second redbull.

5:00pm- beg babies to nap or at least play quietly.

5:01pm- realize there is only two hours and 59 minutes to bedtime. I can so do this.

6:30pm- feed babies real baby food.

6:32pm- come to the conclusion that blueberries are the worst fruit in the world and never use them to make food again.

7:00pm- attempt to clean up blue babies.

7:15 pm- feed babies final bottle of the night.

7:45 pm- fight babies to get pjs on.

8:00 pm- finally win the battle.

8:15 pm- put babies to bed.

8:20 pm- wash bottles

8:45 pm- fold laundry

9:00 pm- clean up living room.

9:15 pm- yell at cats for sleeping in folded, clean clothes.

9:30 pm- sit down on couch realize all the other shit I need to do.

9:31 pm- say fuck it.

9:32 pm- watch dvr’ed The Daily Show.

10:00pm- set Jason up for next day
I.e. get diapers, wipes, meds, toys, bibs together.

10:15 pm- wonder how “is” (meaning my life) happend.

10:16 pm- snap out of it.

10:17 pm- crawl up to bed

11:00 pm- get pissed off because I can’t sleep.  Shouldn’t have had that second redbull.

11:30 pm- Jason comes home, hand baby monitor over and pass out.