Waiting Games


Newborn wailing. Toddler having a breakdown, kicking screaming fit. Here I sit in the lovely surroundings of the OB/GYN office awaiting the annual “how ya doing” visit. I must say, the waiting room is providing enough birth control for me I may not have to ask her to refill my prescription.

Don’t get me wrong here, I like kids. I even like other people’s kids. Most of the time. But as I hear that sweet little newborn wail, I think to myself… ” No way, man. I ain’t do THAT again.” Yep, I said it. I love the kid I have, but the thought of starting over with another newborn not only terrifies me, but makes me physically ill to even think about.

I salute you, mothers of more than one child, for I know you are stronger than I am. I tip my hat at you frazzled mommies with more than one mini tagging along behind you. You’re a tougher kinda gal than me.

Eagerly, I make my way back to adorn the lovely “dress” and chat with my favorite person I see once a year. Usual chit-chat… how are you, any life changes, anything to ask about or discuss today? Then she asks “the question”… “So, do you think you and your husband are done? I mean, considering any more kids?”

Well, after I stopped laughing and informed her the mere thought makes me want to slit my wrists with a plastic butter knife, I think she understood completely. Then we have our discussion on my chosen methods of prevention (besides being in her waiting room).

This lady really did make my freaking day, though. Not only does she always have a special dress just for me, but this time she informed me that the lying hunk of metal I am forced to stand on upon first entry of the office has told her something wonderful… I’m eight pounds lighter than this time last year. Well. Yay me!

See folks, it don’t take much to make my day.


I am more.


I’m finding there is something from a night out that seems to linger with me for days, even weeks sometimes. After a great night out with friends, there is something that remains. Like a flutter in my stomach reminding me of a moment. Something that keeps that feeling fresh in my mind – that wonderful feeling of confidence.

I walk a little taller. I dress a little better. Maybe I even smile more. I paint my fingernails.

This is why I need those nights out, those nights when I’m reminded I am more.

Triangles are my favorite shape


They are. I don’t have any real explanation as to why. Always have I been drawn to them… in high school I often signed my artwork with three dots in the shape of a triangle, the mathematical symbol meaning “therefor”. I just love ’em.

A simple equilateral triangle, the Greek letter Delta, is a symbol of change. Change is good. Change is terrifying. Change is what makes life what it is. Change is necessary. We’re always changing.

I’m getting a tattoo. Of, you guessed it, a triangle. Or maybe three of them. I decided this recently, that I wanted an image that I could see daily to remind me of what’s important to me. I’ve been looking for a design for a bit now, but I think I’ve settled on three triangles – each altered to represent three specific actions.




A picture will likely pop up here soon seeing that I have an appointment this weekend to chat with my tattoo artist buddy. Meantime, I’m thinking this will be on the inside of my right wrist… always visible to me, always reminding me the things I hold most sacred in my heart.

Finding Myself


I love being wife and mother, I do. But, here lately it has felt like those two roles have overshadowed the “me” I once was… the woman I remember. I am afraid to lose her. I feel in my heart I need frequent reminders that she’s still around, that I am more than Mom and wife.

On the other hand, when I do take some time away from it all, I often find myself feeling guilty. Guilty over missing something at home or that I’m allowing myself to have fun without them. Silly, I know. And this guilt complex I have seems to come and go when I decide to have a little “me time”.

I took some time for myself very recently – I went out for a fabulous, hilarious, fulfilling Girls Night Out with some of my closest girlfriends last weekend. We enjoyed a late dinner and lots of laughter while getting the dish on one of our groups newest romantic interests (she was one of the few single gals in our group). We headed to a local club to take in the sights and, as one of the girls said, “get wild!”

Well, wild was not to be had there. Not for me anyway. I did act a bit goofy and tried to enjoy it, but more than anything I was thinking I would rather be somewhere else. Not home, just not at that particular establishment. I had already let our group know I’d be heading back to my little town early since I had promised to make my appearance at a local bar who was hosting a band with members I knew from childhood. And, my brother threatened to be there… this I had to see. So, my partner in business (and shenanigans) drove us back to town.

Much to my delight, I get a message from the rest of the group: “We’re coming to meet you!” Made my night… in my comfort hangout, getting to have fun with my comfort people! I can’t even begin to recall some of the many things that made me laugh so hard that my face ached for the entire next day.

We danced, we laughed, we drank… but, best of all, we had fun. No one asked me where my husband was. No one called me mommy. I was “me” again. I was glorious, graceful, classy, happy, beautiful me again. And it was fucking fabulous. Every single minute of it.

And I do not feel guilty at all.


Merriam‑Webster defines toxic as “containing or being poisonous material especially when capable of causing death or serious debilitation”. I have thought about this word all day, for a few reasons.
I think there can be many things in life that are toxic beyond even the obvious ones, the literal and visible ones. Today I watched as two people I care for were exposed to toxins – in the form of toxic personalities, that is. I observed as both of these strong, intelligent individuals were debilitated, filled with doubt about themselves because of another person’s toxic influence. I gotta say, it both made me angry and completely empathetic because I’ve been there. And, it took a lot of learning and growing for me to recognize this sort of thing in my own life and make my distance from such toxins.

As women, I think we are so often very hard on ourselves. We are our own harshest critics, we second-guess ourselves, sometimes losing the strong footing we have worked so hard to secure in our lives. It makes me wonder why we fall into these obvious traps, why we make ourselves feel less than we are because of the influence of another.

I was able to share my opinions on the situations today because these two people value my friendship, something I am honored to have in both of them. My initial reactions of anger made me first want to find the toxic people that hurt my friends and return the favor. Yeah, I know, not the best way to go since my mother has always told me “two wrongs do not make a right”. When I stopped a second to think about it, I offered what someone once offered me – an sympathetic ear and a reminder that we owe no one else in this world any validation or explanation, no one but ourselves.
I hope reminding these two strong, amazing women of who they were made a difference in their day. I hope they see the toxic thing in their lives and are able to remove them in their own ways. And, most of all, I hope they always remember these wise words from Stuart Smalley, a favorite old character of mine on SNL:
“I’m good enough. I’m smart enough. and doggone it… people like me!”
If you’re not smiling, even just a little, you probably need to do a YouTube search and check out Daily Affirmations with Stuart Smalley. You can thank me later.

Well, this is it.


Here we go, off into the world of blogging. You see, I’ve been talking about doing this for months… even writing a few things in the recent past as notes on Facebook to keep the inspiration going. I’ve always heard it is easier to write what you know. Well, I know some silly shit it would seem – from rants about things that put my panties in a bunch to juvenile jokes that make me giggle like a middle school kid with a few “my kid is so amazing” stories thrown in for decent measure.

I don’t know where this will head, but it’s mine. My place to say what I want without judgement. And I have to say, it feels… well, liberating.

So, here goes… welcome to supermistyspeaks!