1. Bowels

2. Slacks

3. Ecru

4. A-whole-nother

5. Soggy

6. Splat

7. Snot

8. Pumps (in reference to shoes)

9. Pantyhose

10. Migraine

11. Can't

One way I can be sure that summer is coming to its beautiful end is the addition of socks to the laundry.

My son has run around in Crocs since school let out. Actually, they're the same pair of Crocs he wore last summer. He's a slow grower. He wore a pair of 3T shorts the other day. He's eight.

My daughter wore her black, hand-me-down sandals all summer. She most definitely did not wear the cute, brown-leather flip-flops, for which we went back and forth to the store because the size wasn't quite right. You know, the ones that cost actual dollars.

I get used to laundry sans socks when the kids are out of school; other than softball and baseball socks, which are knee-high and black or knee-high and red. Meaning...the pair is easy to make.

My kids wear uniforms to school and their ankles have to be covered. So now, I will be carrying around a lot of socks until next June. I tote them up and down the stairs because I can't find the mate and keep waiting for it to turn up. This is my laundry basket and the socks I carry around week to week.

Labels: Family Life, Kids, Mom Logic, Ramblings

My daughter starts middle school today, which makes perfect sense because about eight seconds ago she was a 2 lb. 9 oz. preemie who fit in the palm of her father's hand.

Two seconds after that she was wearing pigtails and skipping and making me recite "The Three Little Pigs" over and over. Then she started reciting "The Three Little Pigs" and, somehow, even though it was only about five seconds ago, I have a 30 minute long video of her telling that story.

Oh my goodness, did that girl like to talk! One day, my left ear fell onto the floor and she just kept going...like she was waiting for the right one to do the same thing. Okay, I'm exaggerating. Slightly.

She was so smart. She still is. But, smart when you're a toddler is different than smart when you're eleven. She sang God Bless America in front of huge groups...hundreds of people...when she had just turned three. So, yeah, that kind of smart. Now, she knows geometry, which makes her smarter than I have ever been.

She has always had a big heart and a sensitive soul, but about one second ago she got kind of hormonal. That means that she's SUPER sensitive, but doesn't always show a sensitive side. So, she has no problem being mean to her brother and making him cry, but when I tell her to stop it? Her tears could fill a bucket.

I used to think we were so much alike, and we are in a lot of ways, but more and more I see her becoming her own person. Which scares me a lot. I knew what to expect when she acted like me. I even knew what to expect when she acted like her father. *cough* button-pusher *cough*

These days, she does her own thing a lot. It's her music, her posters on the wall, her choices, her decisions. I hope she makes the right ones. Just saying that makes me want to lock her in a room forever.

Don't get me wrong, she's only eleven. She doesn't have a cell phone, she still goes to bed at a decent hour, she can't see PG-13 movies...except for Transformers because, duh, it's Transformers.

She still needs her mommy sometimes, but I'm 39 and I still need mine, so that doesn't make me feel much better. And, when I think about how dumb I acted when I started driving and then when I went to college...well, she's just never driving or enrolling in higher education. That's all there is to it.

Of course, that's not true. She will grow up, despite my best efforts to keep her a child.

All I know, is that in a few more seconds my baby girl will still be my girl, but she won't be my baby anymore. As much as I love seeing her grow, I really wish I could stop this clock.

Labels: Getting Old, Kids, Prematurity, Ramblings

Soon to be starring in the feature film Snakes on a Head.

I clearly recall, that a few hours later, we made the trip into the basement of the church. I sat down and made a declaration to everyone within earshot. "Things WILL go wrong today. If the ring bearer wants to break-dance down the aisle, fine. If someone passes out, we'll deal with it. If my ex-boyfriend shows up and starts shooting people...well, that's really going to suck.

And, you know what? Other than the snakes on my head, everything went beautifully. True perfection. I had the most wonderful time, had great conversations with old family and I spent the afternoon saying thanks to everyone who had helped deliver us our dream wedding.

I'm glad that our day started out a little strange, because it showed us what marriage would be like. Some days are dreamy and fun, but other days are Pop-Tarts and Medusa. Some days are both. You work with what you are given.

Happy Anniversary to the guy who has stayed by my side through all of these crazy years. Through sickness and health (mostly sickness), thick and thin (mostly thick), brown and blonde. I love you.

I wouldn't want to share Pop-Tarts with anyone else.

Labels: My Better Half, Ramblings

I had a post for today, but ended up going to the hospital for some tests for my upcoming surgery on my girly parts, then I went to a staff meeting at work and spent the rest of the afternoon working on updating other areas of this site.

Overall, it was kind of a lazy summer day. With the exception of watching my son walk around clenching his jaw all day (because he put his teeth through his chin last night), the day was without drama. Yesterday, the hole in his lip did cause a bit of hoopla, but today? Wasn't bad.

No drama is good around here. Boring and lazy is like a ray of sunshine, because more often than not we have a lot to deal with.

But, you know what? We're one of the lucky families. My son may not live to be elderly, but given the medical advances in cardiology, you never know. Maybe he will. There are some children who have rare diseases for which little is known and for whom life could be cut way too short.

One of those children belongs to my friend, Kevin. Today, Kevin reminded me of how fortunate we are. Click here if you want to read why.

But, if there is one thing I really want you to click, it is this...

Your vote can mean $250,000 from the Pepsi Refresh Project to help fund research for this rare auto-immune disorder. YOU CAN HELP! Please vote for this. For me, for my friend, but more than anything for his daughter and all the kids like her.

Labels: A Friend in Need

My 76 year old mom is well known for her mispronunciation.

But, I think she topped herself today when she called my niece's car a "Vulva".

Labels: Family Life, Mom Logic, Shameless Statements

1. If you spend 13 days in five different cities (and six different beds), you will grow very weary of checking for bedbugs.

2. Manhattan in August is hot, dirty and smells a lot like pee.

3. The Eastern Shore of Virginia in August is hot, sandy and smells a lot like fish.

4. But, that smell is totally worth it when your brother-in-law takes your husband and kids fishing and they come home with fresh crab and flounder for dinner.

5. Busch Gardens Williamsburg is ridiculously expensive. Nine bucks for four mozzarella sticks and a cup of strawberries for the kids' snack, on top of $55.00 admission tickets and $18.00 parking IS. JUST. WRONG.

6. If you buy a hotel room through Priceline, apparently the staff doesn't have to guarantee you a room at their hotel...but rather, any room at any hotel. This means you might end up booking at a Hyatt and end up at a Quality Inn.

7. And, you might take your Ambien in the parking lot of the Hyatt just before you (think you're going to) check-in, only to be told you have to drive 10 miles, through the completely foreign city of Pittsburgh, all while arguing with the staff and watching people who arrived AFTER you get a room because they're paying full price.

8. You will never use Priceline or stay at a Hyatt again.

9. Then you will use your blog for evil paybacks. Mwah ha ha!!

10. The speed limit in West Virginia through the Allegheny Mountains is 70mph. This is also referred to as the "place where Momo gets itchy armpits and yells at her husband a lot".

11. After non-stop travel to points in West Virginia, Virginia, Pennsylvania, New York, and almost Maryland...Ohio will never seem so good.

12. Because that is where your bed is.

13. And you don't have to check for any bugs.

Labels: BlogHer, Insomnia, Random Realizations, Traveling

A few nights ago, I had a dream that I hopped on a plane back to New York. I had my kids in tow and after our arrival in the city, we ended up in a cavernous ballroom with an ornamental ceiling and chandeliers above our heads. The room was empty, with one exception.

On the floor was a long piece of paper, plain white, roughly the width of a roll of wrapping paper. It extended about 10 feet and at the foot of it was a set of brushes and a painter's palette. Someone, a faceless someone, told us to begin painting.

At first, my kids and I stared at one another and shrugged our shoulders because we had no idea what to put on our blank canvas. When we finally began to paint, we crafted our art separately from one another. A swoosh here, a dab there, we mixed colors and techniques, blending into each other effortlessly, yet creating our own unique pieces.

We were there for quite a while and though we had worked as three individuals, we stood to find that, together, we had painted a beautiful picture. A picture that looked just like the one I'm standing next to here...

This is the artwork that was inspired by my post for the BlogHer Voices of the Year Art Gala and Auction. My friend, Melisa, snapped the above picture before I got dressed up for the evening (because, right now my friend Jill is all, "She wore jeans?") and just seconds prior to me crying so hard that my nose turned bright red.

I cried because the photo-art was, by complete chance assignment, by my friend Mishi. I cried because my post title was "Into the Light" and she beautifully captured its essence. I cried because she incorporated things that make me feel joy, things that feed my spirit, and things that mean something to me (you can see the fact that I love the sun and trees by looking at my header, which was created by the talented Courtney from Judith Shakes Designs).

I love that creativity can inspire others to be creative. I love that, together, Mishi, Courtney and I have fed off of each other. The reason that I began blogging is because I was searching for an outlet to unleash my own creativity.

The fact that it has led to fueling my dreams is simply a bonus.

Labels: BlogHer, Kids, Photos, Socializing, Tooting My Own Horn

With my trip to New York wrapped up, I have had a full day to reflect on the events of BlogHer'10.

The experience, for me, was not about the venue or the sponsors. It's not about the parties either (though I'm not going to lie, Mama Pop knows how to throw one down).

BlogHer conferences are about learning from each other, about our work, our craft and about our overall awesomeness as a community. We. Are. Awesome.

Of course, some of us are more awesome than others. There are true artists in our midst. People who ooze creativity and whose presence in a room makes the air vibrate and increases our collective intelligence because they actually make us think. And, feel. And, live.

One of those artists is Karen Walrond. She is a genius. She exudes brilliance and I feel like I am more aware of everything since I met her. Not to mention that what she said here, made me cry in all kinds of good ways.

I was so fortunate to get my own personal photo shoot on the streets of New York with Karen behind the lens. I had been in the city for almost two days before we met and had been dealing with a massive headache that would not go away. I was tense, nervous and the stress of the previous two weeks was inside my brain trying to pound its way out.

After spending time with Karen, though? My headache went away, the tension was gone and I finally breathed. She was, quite literally, the cure for what ailed me.

Thank you, Karen, for more than just this photograph. Thank you for making me feel joyous and alive. Thank you for the gift of knowing you.

Labels: BlogHer, Photos, Socializing

I got to New York less than 18 hours ago, but have already seen so much. Let's take a tour, shall we?

There are a lot of people.


There are people bathing in public. (See him down at the bottom? I didn't get close enough to see if he had any pants on. My guess? Probably not.)


There is old.


There is new.


There are tons of buildings.


And, there is an empty space in the sky where buildings used to be.

Overall, I like it here. It's hot, busy, smelly, crowded and you have to wash your feet a lot, but it's alive. Everywhere. All the time.

Labels: BlogHer, Photos

I didn't even realize it at the time, but my last blog post was my 500th. I had another post prepared for today, but as I logged in to type it, I saw the big 5-0-0 was hit a few days ago.

Five hundred posts and over three years of my life spent here at my home away from home. Momo Fali's isn't just a blog for me; it has been my journey through time. Even if most of that time was spent as an insomniac in an Ambien-induced haze.

You might think that I would be looking forward to my 500th post. Anticipating it, planning it and crafting each word carefully. Umm...nope. I haven't even planned dinner lately.

As I have come to realize, anticipating and planning don't necessarily mean that things will turn out the way you intended. I didn't anticipate having two premature kids. I didn't plan for a child with health and behavioral problems. My husband and I didn't craft our (legitimate) careers in the mortgage industry, only to have the housing market come crashing down around us.

I know I'm not alone. Life throws curve balls at everyone and, sometimes, you just get blind-sided by a hit that you never even saw coming.

When my son was an infant, things were such a struggle that I continuously told myself, "Don't take it day to day, or hour to hour...just take it minute to minute". I knew I could do anything for a minute, so I taught myself to function for 60 seconds at a time.

This is probably why I didn't see my 500th post coming. I have learned not to look too far ahead because what appears isn't usually painted like the picture in my head. As a matter of fact, I try to imagine the worst so that I end up pleasantly surprised. That's right. The worst. I can paint some seriously ugly pictures up in here.

This doesn't mean that I am negative, just anxiety-ridden. I am a worrier. I am helped by medication, but I am still the woman who goes to therapy with her son and has the psychologist spend a quarter of the allotted time discussing my cuticle picking.

Given the course of my life, filled with twists and turns and sinkholes, I think it's fitting that I am, instead, celebrating my 501st post.

In my case, it is truly something to celebrate when there was no fretting involved whatsoever.

Labels: A Look Back, Family Life, Insomnia, Ramblings, Special Needs