My Cosmic Autumn Rebellion

It’s that time again! A slight chill has hit the air, Pumpkin Spice is featured in everything from breakfast cereals to deodorants, and all thoughts turn towards the Autumnal Equinox! Well… not really, but still…it’s Fall Y’all! And I couldn’t be happier ūüėć #getchyergourdon

Four years ago I made my very first door garland (one of my most popular posts, found here: ) 

and I have loved putting it up every single year since.

However, just as I was prone to do with all the things I have loved in my life, I didn’t treat it as well as it should have been. It was a lot to store, but so light and springy that I thought shoving it all down into one small bin was a great idea. It wasn’t. Turns out that if you squish deco mesh for the better part of a year, it comes out just as squished! Now, hear me when I say this, it was still kick ass, and it surely could have found many more years of life. However, I had  really wanted to remake it since the day I made it because I had no idea that I should have unrolled the mesh in the store to see what it actually looked like when it was separated from 300 layers of itself!  (Oh yes, I’ve become one of THOSE ladies! You’ll find me in the aisles of Hobby Lobby and AC Moore unrolling deco mesh because the same damn thing happened with my Christmas garland, it looked beautiful and green on the roll, but black when I hung it ūüė£)

Ok, enough of that foolishness… I took it apart and started over. 

I picked out one color this year (SO much easier than doing multiple colors, the mesh cost more and came on a shorter roll , but it was WAY worth it!) I used a metallic, multiple color, Ombre effect. 

How did I make this? It was SO freaking simple! I laid out the Garland on my kitchen table (my garage is a nightmare right now #anyportinastorm!) Clamped it down (I have to tell you, that was the best idea ever! Rather than having the Garland moving all over the place and the roll getting tangled up, everything stayed in place and I was able to make both sides of the Garland in less than a half an hour!)

I started on one side at the first  “twisty” leaving about a foot-and-a-half of a “tail” hanging out the end, and then affixed to every other twisty with some “poof” between (has anyone come up with more technical terms for these things yet???) All the way to the other end. From the side I ended on I started with a new roll and did the same exact thing, except using the twisties that I hadn’t used in the first pass through. Two rolls were plenty, but since I had the mesh and I do like a fuller look, I went and added a third. Fifteen yards seems to me to be the perfect amount to use. 

I wove the leaf ribbon through, twisting it on top of the mesh in one direction. With the striped ribbon I cut 14 inch strips, notched the ends and twisted them in on the twisties that did not have the leaf ribbon attached.

 I used hot glue and glued the sparkly metallic leaves to the spots that had the striped ribbon and added a decorative gourd. 

That’s it, super easy! 

  • As always, I love you, my Frazzled Followers, and appreciate your kind words and feedback! If you try your hand at this and need some assistance or come up with other ideas to make it easier, please share them, I love to hear about it, I love to see the pictures, and if you’d like to be featured on the blog I’m more than happy to share!

 -Falling Frazzled


Here We Go Round In Circles

Here we go again….

New stats are in (meaning I just looked at them for the first time in months) and this particular post is my single most-viewed non-DIY post of all time. Years of slack-blogging (coined, trademarked) and this post, which was the most fun to write, but was written as a big “Fuck You, Pal!” to a friend who thought it was cute to say “you use the word awesome too much. And you really aren’t awesome at all”, in the middle of an argument, is the most popular??? 

I’ll take it. I love this one. For realz. Instead of blasting said friend, I decided to eviscerate in fiction , as I’m wont to do. It’s sort of my thing. 

Even though I love you, a promise is a promise ūüėē

Because even if I was being a pain in the ass by seeing how many different ways I could use the word “awesome” and say “I’ll show YOU who’s not awesome!” we both know that I’m pretty damn awesome (hehehe). 

The fact that I don’t own this bothers me. Very much.

You Ain’t Never Seen No One Like Me Р

-missing my invite for the pretend party of perfectness but still slacking,



Remember that time you drove all night, just to meet me in the morning?

We all want the guy outside our window holding a boombox above his head blasting Peter Gabriel. Even when we don’t. Especially when we don’t.

(Morning, Frazzled Followers…it’s been too long again. Rest assured I’ve been writing more than ever, just haven’t felt like posting. I’m confined to bed today, so I’m using my time to edit and publish some older stuff. This particular piece is from January when I was grappling with some aspects of my personality and how they grate against the world around me. It’s raw, and I know you guys like that, so…enjoy ‚̧)

Anything material in this world, I can get for myself. I don’t want titles or trinkets or trips. I don’t want social events or status updates or family get-togethers.

I want time. I want tunnel-vision conversations that don’t necessarily have a point but are fueled by feeling and strung together by a connection that can’t be defined.

I want eyes that look at me and see all my flaws inside and out and still see something unique and amazing. I want to say exactly what I feel, even if it’s ugly and give the middle finger when words fail to express the frustration I am experiencing. I want someone who knows that sharing that side of me is not an attack on them but my stupid way of sharing my heart.


I want someone who knows that I am broken and jagged and who not only accepts the pointed shards of my personality but wants to know how I got each one, someone who finds that my broken shards fit well with their own and wants to share theirs with me.

I want to make someone happy. I want to learn all about them and know their fears and dreams and how they cultivated each and every facet of who they are. I want to create a bubble of happiness and good for them that they want to climb inside when the world is bringing them down. I want to see a smile that only I can elicit on their exhausted and stressed face. I want someone who wants to evoke a smile from me and feels rewarded by its presence.

I want someone who understands that when I say “I hate you” when it’s more appropriate to say “I love you” it isn’t a declaration of dislike but a deep acknowledgement of how very much I like them and an affirmation of just how far into my being they have tread. I want them to know that they scare me by delving so deep, which I hate, but that I love it and hope, more than anything, they continue.


I want someone who views my words as a map to a deeper part of myself, and not something that has to be endured or indulged. I want someone who will listen to the things I don’t say, the things I almost never say. I want someone who knows that the spaces in me that should have been “artistic” were empty and that I only have words where others have talent.

I want someone who wants to lay beside me and enjoy my soft warmth, feel my absence when I am gone and not find the same comfort in the arms of anyone else.

I want to spend my days giving my heart to someone, I want to be a source of happiness for them and I want to be myself while doing it. I want someone who feels a need to be near me, who makes it a point to share my space and wants me in theirs. I want someone that wouldn’t willingly be out of touch with me.


Is that too much to ask of another person??? Yes. Yes, it most certainly is. Is it worth it to settle for less? No. Not even a little bit.

And I’m OK with that. Being alone is not the worst way to spend the limited time we are allotted on this rock we all inhabit. Not the worst by far.


-Slacking a whole lot less, but hating every minute of it,

Cause I’m kind of like Han Solo, always stroking my own Wookiee

Here’s something: when I was 18, I got engaged. It was a poor reactive choice to end a string of poor choices I felt caught up in. When that relationship fell apart a year later, I made a pros and cons list (what can I say? I'm a list maker). While there was a long list of cons, they did little to outweigh my top pros, which were "don’t want to admit I made a mistake" and "already put deposit on reception hall" (I was 19…don’t judge.) However, after an argument, my then-fiance said something I will never forget; he said "You try to pretend you're cool, but you're just a nerd….You know what? Star Wars is stupid." That was a slap in the face. Not for the Star Wars part of it, but for the implication of what he thought of me on the whole. At that time, I was embarrassed to admit, even to myself, that I had spent close intimate time revealing who I was to someone to whom cruelty came so naturally, so on my list I simply wrote "doesn't like Star Wars" and got the hell out of there.


I’ve recently realized that from that point on, I've never been in a relationship or even really been great friends, with anyone that doesn't have some deep connection with Star Wars.


A few short years later, I moved into my first apartment with my boyfriend at the time. While unpacking I found his Star Wars toys from the 70’s and 80’s. We hadn’t really talked about Star Wars up to that point; grunge was our lifestyle, he was in a band, and our focus was always on music and finding the next good time. We had an “I knew this was true love!” moment over the toys and put up shelves to display them, with the "platinum edition" VHS original trilogy box set nearby. Living expenses and the inevitable breakup of the band had us home more than out and many weekends were spent in love, bonding over repeated Star Wars marathons.


Incidentally, that relationship ended 6 years later as The Phantom Menace was in final production. We had both lamented that we wouldnt be together to see it and would most certainly feel an emotional tug while viewing it in our "lives without each other" (oh yes, that was one sappy relationship. We were like twins separated at birth…which isn't a great recipe for making it long term, but there was genuine love there and I'm happy to have experienced it).


When I was leaving that relationship, I was older and wiser and had a clearer definition of what I wanted out of life. I didn’t make a list, but when I met new people and considered them as potential prospects, I started things off light and inquiried about their feelings towards "Star Wars". That sounds so superficial, but the truth is that a love of Star wars is often indicative of other personality traits that mesh well with mine.


The ex-hubs and I often joke about how we knew we wanted to marry each other on our first date because during a deep, non-Star-Wars-related conversation he interrupted me by saying “I want to kiss you so badly” and I instantly responded with “I know.” (I know saying this is common and cliche these days, but at the time I wasn’t thinking Star Wars at all…I was nervous and falling head over heels in love…it just came out) A few weeks later we went to see The Phantom Menace together and the rest is, as they say, history.


I’ve never thought about all this before, but in my age group, a love of Star Wars often signifys a youth synonymous with being something of an outcast. It wasn’t popular to be a Star Wars fan through the 80’s and 90’s. There’s something of a kindred feeling amongst fans, a shared struggle that came with identifying with something that was by all accounts “popular” but not “cool”… the Heyday of The Geek hadn’t arrived yet.


More often than not the types of people I like share similar character traits. And those character traits are synonymous with the main themes of Star Wars. A deep respect for honor, quietly commanding respect without relying on confrontation, and a believer in Chaotic Good. They are generally immensely talented and/or extremely intelligent. They aren't "nerds" so to speak, but they have this underside that is quite geeky and yet have come to grips with it and taken an approach that shows they are absolutely comfortable with it and not ashamed. They often have had periods in their lives where they didn't feel comfortable with who they were, they didn’t fit in amongst the usual crowds, yet they came to accept themselves and rock what they got.

It’s funny, I’ve never thought about Star Wars as a “make or break” thing in my relationships, even after adding it to a list over 20 years ago. And some might say that it’s foolish to put weight on a thing such as a string of movies, especially now since all of my relationships have ended. I’m not sure about that though. I don’t denigrate any of my relationships just because they didn’t “last forever”. I feel lucky to have had the majority of my past spent in deep and meaningful connection with another person, even though it wasn’t just “the one”, because each one was right at the time.


I do notice, however, I that in my past relationships the ones that I look back on fondly have a shared love of Star Wars and the one I look back on and cringe, asking myself “what was I thinking?!?” does not.


Coincidence? I think not.

-slacking and waxing ūüėČ

I did a couple favors for these guys who looked like Tusken Raiders


I am SO far behind in posting. Seriously, if I got any further behind I’d be posting “breaking news” about….something dated and old hat (sorry…I got nothing!) Anyway, I wrote this weeks ago and didn’t get to post, so let’s get on with it!

So, earlier this week last week a few weeks ago tickets went on sale for Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens. And it broke the internet. For realz. Not like that time the media wanted us to believe that a photshopped greasy ass pulled down the interwebs.

Shit got crazy real fast and every ticketing agency experienced some sort of crash. And I was stressed about the whole ordeal. Big time. I wrote this just minutes before I found out tickets went on sale hours earlier than expected:

Tickets go on sale tonight after the new trailer premier. I can’t handle this kind of stress. I was worried enough about waiting in line and having a crappy seat (no, really…I can’t stand the feeling that I might not get in or if I do I might get stuck watching from the first row!) There is no part of me that is interested/prepared/capable of competing with The Internet for tickets and the inevitability of the frenzy that will follow with people capitalizing on ticket procurement.

I was a mess. And mad at myself for being a mess. This shouldn’t be a big deal to me. I don’t participate in “mania” of any type. As a rule! But there I was, feeling emotional, me! The Feelingless Wonder! Getting weepy because while I was waiting to rally and “compete” for tickets, everyone had jumped online two hours early and had already purchased them! I was busy living my life, putting my children to bed, making lunches for the next day, straightening up the house. I missed a window I didn’t know existed until a friend in another state wrote “hope you got your tickets…it was a pain in the ass!” in response to a post I made about waiting for the new trailer. WTF??? No, really, WTF?? Tickets weren’t supposed to go on sale until after the trailer and it hadn’t aired yet!!


I’m not proud of how upset I was, but it was genuine. Life is a ridiculous stress pile and lately it feels like the rough is outweighing the smooth and frankly, there is very little I ask for in the way of personal indulgence…dammit, I want to see this movie! I want to see it on opening night and at that moment I realized it was not going to happen and it felt like a bit much.

Now, me being me, I had a moment of “Reign that shit in!”…I don’t tolerate hysteria in anyone, especially myself, so I resigned myself to accept that I might not see the movie until it was a week or two old. And I was OK with that, because, as much as I want to be part of the opening night hubbub, there are much more important things in life than a movie.

But I tried anyway. And I got this message:

That was all it took, I’m a quitter…I don’t like the option of losing so I often don’t play. But, I tried again, believing myself luckier than most (“The Universe LIKES me!”) and told myself that this was as far as I was willing to go in my efforts.

And just like *that* I was on the page to purchase tickets! Now THAT was stressful! I was trying to pick seats as they literally disappeared from the screen…scrambling to get my bank card, pick a time, a date, a theater…I am not made for this type of trial…I am way too flaky to do this! I was positive I would mess up and screw myself out of my only chance to see the movie opening night!


However, I was able to do it. Yep. I got myself tickets! Not just any tickets, but reserved seating, 3D Imax tickets! On opening night!


That’s a pretty big deal for someone who needs help ordering pizza!

Seriously…it’s such a small thing, but it means the world to me. I’ve never been to opening night for a Star Wars movie. I’ve never seen a film in 3D or Imax. I’ve never been so excited to see a movie before!

I feel so much better knowing that I don’t have to wait in line or worry about trying to get last minute tickets. I feel so good knowing that no matter what, I’ve got my spot reserved and I will not have to stress over something that is meant to be enjoyed.

-In desperate need of slacking, but with a big smile on my face,

In this time, give it to me easy

It’s a rainy Monday. And I’m way behind in posting. But it’s the Monday after Halloween, which fell on a Saturday this year. I’m not pulled together yet. I don’t anticipate being pulled together until Wednesday.


I’ve been writing. A lot. I’m in no position to post any of it. I’ve got a post in the works to address the newbies, there are quite a few of you lately (‚̧) but, that’s not happening today, so let me refer you to this gem from the past that was written to familiarize new followers on how things go down over here in SlackerTown (coined, trademarked, it’s mine now ūüėė)

All you’ve ever wanted to know about the Frazzled Slacker

-In desperate need of some slack time,

I will bite your torso and give you a disease

Morning Frazzled Followers, I wrote this two months ago and never posted it…and while I AM actually working on something new, it’s Monday. I had a good weekend. I’m busy at work. It’s too early to proofread. And I’m a slacker. Doesn’t mean I don’t love you, just means I love me some me more. And we’re all OK with that…because…awesome. This is a long one, really two posts in one. And it’s got that personal “ARE YOU NOT ENTERTAINED?!?” factor that we emotional cannibals love to feed on (my stats don’t lie…you like it when I bleed. I don’t blame you.) so I don’t feel bad about giving you this to chew on while I earn some money doing enough science-y crap to pay for next week’s pizza and fruity wine selection ūüėė

For the past few weeks I’ve been getting invites to see the new Star Wars movie, The Force Awakens, when it opens in December. In the spirit of brevity (AHAHAHA! As IF!!) I will refrain from explaining why this movie release is a big deal. Four minutes on Google will net you much more concise explanations from people more qualified than I. Seriously, if you really don’t know why this movie release is an epic event, Google That Shit. It’s kind of a big deal.

My friends and family know how I feel about Star Wars and the release of this movie. Thanks to social media, they have been subjected to published “XXX days until Star Wars Episode VII Opens!” for well over a year and every Star Wars related meme that’s come down the pike. My Facebook news feed has been filled with cool and funny Star Wars finds from everyone I know with “This made me think of you!” and I absolutely love it! Suffice it to say people who know me know I’m a fan.

The movie release is four months two months away. And the buzz is building getting intense. I’ve been asked to go see it by multiple friends and new acquaintances. More than a few people have expressly asked to sit beside me and witness my first time experience (seriously? There was less clamoring for my virginity…and I guarded that! But whatever, Jerks.) To some, seeing the movie with me is a big deal and to others it’s a matter of knowing how excited I am to go and wanting to share in my happiness.

And this is a wonderful problem to have. Really. My heart feels so touched to have such thoughtful people around me. Having company to see The Force Awakens is a fun twist on the “sitting alone, intently staring at the screen, trying to absorb every tiny detail” scenario I’ve had in my head for the last year (no, really, all my thoughts of this movie event had me sitting alone…I just have kinda always been the only Star Wars fan in my crowds…I’m used to it and it doesn’t bother me).

But. There’s a caveat. And I feel bad about it. Really bad. But not bad enough to pretend I feel otherwise. So I’m just going to say it.

I can’t babysit someone during my first viewing of this movie. I just can’t. It’s something I want to be selfish about. I want an amazing experience and if it makes me cry I don’t want to owe anyone an explanation. I don’t want to miss a single second of it to any conversational detritus. My focus is hard come by (“squirrel!”) so when I muster it, I don’t mess around. I want zero distractions and only simpatico reverence surrounding me on December 18, 2015. Just that first time.

Now that I’ve dipped a toe into the pool of friendship betrayal I’ll cannonball right in and simultaneously burn bridges:

There are only 4 people that I have met that I would consider seeing this movie for the first time with. The number one person I would love to see this movie with is my father. To this day I still cry a tiny bit (sometimes happy sometimes sad cry) whenever I watch any Star Wars movie because of the emotions I have connected between his memory and the franchise, but that’s not an option.

The second person, I married, and our mutual love for Star Wars played a very large part in our relationship, but we are no longer together (side note: I do have every intention of going together, as a family, with our three children, to see this movie. However, neither of us is so selfless to see it the very first time with them. A weekend matinee will be just fine. We both know what’s up.)

The third is one of my favorite friends who has been my friend since we were 13. He’s a huge Star Wars fan, the mutual love helped foster our friendship over the last 30 years (holy crap, B! Do you realize just how long we’ve been friends?!?) and his presence would only add to the experience, but he lives 816 miles away so it’s not an option.

The fourth person is a new-ish friend. I’ve known him a little over a year and I can’t think of anyone I would rather sit next to when I see this movie for the first time. His level of fandom is deep and inspiring and he brings an aspect of technical knowledge that I have never, ever been exposed to (we know me, the way to impress me is to teach me, and I’m very impressed!) Through his friendship I have found new ways to love Star Wars that I didn’t know were possible. He makes me a better Star Wars fan, and really? I don’t know anyone that can compete with that!

What’s awesome is that he recently asked me to see the movie with him. And honestly, I was shocked. I believe I said “you could have asked me to marry you and I would have been less shocked.” And I wasn’t exaggerating. It didn’t occur to me to ask to see the movie with him because I assumed he had a similar “red velvet rope” mentality about who he would see the movie with as well. And who knows? Maybe he does and I made the cut. Either way, it made me supremely happy. I’m not going to question it.

Now, I know December is a long little way off, not all friendships can weather the ups and downs that can come and go through the change of seasons, but I’m hopeful, that with our past history as my predictor, that no matter what our friendship status is, come December 17th as the clock ticks to the midnight opening, we will be of similar mind and still want to see Episode VII: The Force Awakens (with its subpar font, according to him ūüėČ) together.

After that viewing, I’ll gladly go see the movie multiple times with multiple people and have zero complaints. Hell, I’ll even eat popcorn. But that first time, it’s special to me, and it’s spoken for. And that makes my heart smile.

12/18/15, I’ve got plans and I’m ok with that ūüôā

I feel obligated to share this video. It fits:

Every other day of the week is fine

It’s Monday.


No other day of the week makes me feel like writing more. Something about a Monday morning, going back to work, filing the memories of the weekend away for good, having to put real pants on…it’s all is just so much blah.


I’m never less motivated to do what I get paid to do and extremely motivated to do all those things I don’t get paid to do, than a Monday morning.


You’d think that after being continuously employed since November 1997 that I would have learned the art of just getting down to business on a Monday morning, but…nope.


(prior to 11/97 I was employed full-time but was still fully embracing my Slacker Lifestyle and would change jobs every so often, with padded in “vacation” time in between transitions)


I could list reasons why I’m not a fan of Monday, but my reasons are no more unique than anyone else’s…I really have nothing to add to that conversation.


It’s simply a matter of not being Oprah rich and needing to stay gainfully employed so that I can keep myself in pizza and fruity wines. That, and I just don’t like doing things unless I want to.


Like this. I like doing this. Writing a pointless post about how I am not motivated to work just so I can share some Monday memes.


Now I’m off to a bunch of Monday morning meetings. Which means I will be carousing the internet snapping up memes that make me laugh. Because I like doing that and I’m the boss of me.


Hope your Monday is a good one, Frazzled Followers (‚̧)


Slacking Monday style,


Cretins cloning and feeding

In a conversation with a friend last week he informed me he had recently read an article stating you shouldn’t be your child’s best friend. It immediately made me think about that time I published some of my parenting beliefs.

It’s one of my favorite posts, mainly because it wasn’t just aimless ramblings, but written in direct response to a post on My Not So Humble Opinion.

Re-reading that post made me laugh. Hard. Writing in response to Bob at MNSHO brought out my best snark. I love Bob and I adore his somewhat myopic take on life. Even when I don’t agree with what he says, I find myself enjoying the eloquent way in which he says it. I’m a fan, and have been since I was a kid (yeah, for the longest time I’ve tried to maintain anonymity, but when Bob nominated me for the Liebster Award he outed me as his cousin…but who could complain about that?? It’s a freaking award! (And honestly? Re-reading THAT write up on the award cracked me up…bonus!) Anyway, I would like Bob even if we weren’t related.)

It also made me realize just how much life has changed since then.

When I wrote that post in August of 2012 I was on my way to Myrtle Beach in a minivan loaded with myself, The Hubs, and my three children. The Boy was 5 and The Twins had just turned 4. We were struggling with potty training, The Boy was about to start kindergarten and The Twins were heading off to Pre-K part time. Our marriage was rocky, to say the absolute least, but we were resigned to stay the course. We were embarking on yet another frazzled vacation that was completely planned by me in an attempt to reconnect as a family and enjoy some of the life we were struggling to keep.

Today, The Boy is just a month shy of his 9th birthday. The Twins are 7. Everyone is in school and The Hubs (I guess at this point I should start calling him The Ex-Hubs) and I have parted ways.

The biggest difference between then and now is that I don’t have a partner in the home. Sunday night through Friday afternoon I’m driving the crazy train that is my household, solo. I’m making breakfast, lunch, and dinner, slogging my way though the ridiculous amount of homework the kids have, bathing, grooming, and tucking the kids into bed, and fixing random things throughout the household that decided to stop working, all on my own.

I’ll never say a bad word publicly about The Ex-Hubs, he is a good man. We co-parent our children from separate households and are on very good terms with each other. We are kinder to each other than we were during the last years we were together and we both take responsibility for the dissolution of our marriage.

Back then, having another adult presence in the home was comforting, helpful and I absolutely miss the feeling of someone having my back; I’m a team player and thrive as part of a partnership. However, at that point in time it wasn’t working anymore and the feelings that situation generated were far scarier than the intimidation of doing it all on my own.

So while today I am extremely exhausted, it’s not very different from back then, just a different type of exhaustion. Back then I was managing a much larger home and trying to keep up with 3 small children who seemed intent on finding ways to hurt themselves with everyday items. Today I’m in a home half the size, I’ve taken on more of the physical household duties (oh how I despise taking out the garbage and mowing the lawn!) yet much of the stress in my life has dropped.

My parenting views haven’t changed much since back then, I’m getting a normal amount of sleep these days, the kids take care of 99% of their own bathroom functions, and I still don’t want to be their best friend. But, the nature of our split household has caused me to take a friendlier approach to parenting. I listen deeper and reflect on the things my children say a little bit longer now. I put effort into carving out one on one time with each of them, and I make it a point to laugh with all of them every day, even on the really, really hard days. Especially on the really, really hard days.

They question my authority now, but I attribute that to their ages, they don’t question my personal rank within our family, but they do question authority in general, a trait I’m proud thrives in my independent offspring.

They have told me they don’t like me (many times), they have been verbal about not liking many of the rules I have in place, but, as strange as it sounds, I count that as a success. They are talking to me. They are expressing their feelings. And they feel they are being heard.

Am I their best friend? No. Do I care? Not one bit. Do I hope the lines of communication remain open in the coming years? Hell yes! Do I have a fool-proof way of making that happen? Hell no.

Almost everything has changed from back then until now, except for this one thing: my children are my number one priority. Every single decision I have made since November 2006 when The Boy was born, even those that may appear selfishly motivated, has been made with my children at the forefront of my mind and the center of what motivates me.

I can’t say that I know more about being a parent today than I did back then when we were struggling to have certain members of the family make it through the night without peeing on themselves. Every time I think I know something about how to parent my three, they find new and creative ways to change things up and I’m scrambling to figure out what to do. I’m just as confused now as I was then.

But I’m sleeping now. And 99% of the time I’m not cleaning up poop. And honestly, I can’t even remember the last time I’ve been thrown up on. Which is a celebration in and of itself ūüėĀ

-Slacking slightly less.
(Note to P: this ONE time you can call me a Mommy Blogger. Just this once ūüėČ )






Vader Adventures

A few years back, the Hubs and I took our last family vacation. We had decided to separate in january of that year, but hadnt figured out the logistics and were still living together trying to plan out our next steps. Our three children had always wanted to go to Disney World. We figured Spring Break was the perfect time to take one last roadtrip as a complete family and end our 15 year run as a team.

Three days before we left for Florida we celebrated my birthday. One of my favorite gifts was a 6″ Darth Vader action figure. I had planned on keeping him boxed and on display, but my kids wanted me to take him out and play with him. So I did.

The following pictures are Darth’s experience on our roadtrip as were published in real-time to my Facebook page. I think it captures the essence of that last family trip perfectly.





“Darth Vader takes a moment to ponder that one unaccounted for Spring Break at Daytona.”

When the week was up and we had to head home, the mood was somber. We had a great time and our hearts were heavy. We spent our last day in Florida with old high school friends of mine and their families, grilling, drinking, laughing and playing in the pool. All of our kids became fast friends and no one wanted to go home. We were going back to work, school, and to a home The Hubs would soon be vacating. We knew the separation was going to become “real” after this point and none of us was anxious to get on with the impending heartbreak.

“Despite Darth Vader’s natural proclivity towards the chilly temps of the Death Star or dreams of vacationing on Hoth, it would seem the sunny, warm disposition of Florida and those who so genuinely welcomed him there have warmed up his circuitry and he is experiencing genuine remorse at leaving.”
‪#‎SadSithBlues‬ ‪#‎TheForceIsStrongInFlorida‬

‚Ä™(The Peep was a birthday gift from a friend in Florida…another favorite! ‚̧ )

‪#‎Rapey‬? ‪#‎Shonuff

‪#‎49MilesToGo‬ ‪#‎VaderAdventuresConclude‬
‪#‎OutOfIdeas‬ ‪#‎GetMeOutOfThisEffinCar

it’s all about the journey, not the destination. Always.

-Slacking into the future.


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