I am not the healthiest person you will ever meet.  I have asthma, migraines, sinuses that drive me crazy from October to May, some strange auto-immune stuff going on and, on top of all of that, I don't sleep much.  I am a blast at parties!  Call me!

I'm halfway kidding, because I am a blast (I'm modest too), but one of the worst things about being sickly is that your friends have to deal with it.

Sure, last year's swine flu/pneumonia/suspected pulmonary embolism stopped my husband and his dad from leaving for a weekend trip and my mom was the one who rushed me to the emergency room when my doctor thought I was coming down with my SECOND case of viral meningitis, but it's different when you have to put a friend out.

Like the time when I got a concussion a couple of years ago and my husband was out of town or when I went on my annual girls' weekend and ended up with a migraine that made me so sick that I couldn't keep my anti-nausea meds down.  I'm sure that watching me get IV drugs wasn't on my friends' lists of things to do when they were away from their kids for a few days.

But, maybe all of this happens to me for a reason.  Maybe it's to show me that I have amazing friends, or to prove to the world that there really are good people who care about each other; or care for me...same difference.

In addition to being a creative outlet, a place where I have connected with other parents of children with medical issues, and being the board off of which I dove into a new line of work, blogging is a bonus because it has enlarged the group of people who would drive me to the hospital.

Photo courtesy of Mishelle Lane

Labels: Blissdom, Friends, Getting to Know Me, Insomnia, Photos, Tooting My Own Horn

I started blogging roughly three-and-a-half years ago.  I didn't plan on having it take me anywhere.  I didn't know that I would end up loving it so much that it would become my passion, or that blogging would lead me to conferences and Twitter, which would lead to my new job.

My whole life has come full circle, right here for the world to see.

Okay, so maybe the world doesn't read my blog, but I'm pretty sure my Aunt Shirley does.  Sometimes.  In fact, the 30 or so hits I used to get each week have grown into thousands.  I don't know where you people came from, but I'm glad you did.

I love it here.  It is my home.  And, much to my husband's chagrin, I like to redecorate. 

Out of all of the celebrities I have met through blogging, like her...

Top Chef's Padma Lakshmi.  Couldn't the pretty have been shared a little?  Not fair.

...and this fella...

The center of our solar system, also known as the Jimmy Dean sun.

...there are none whom I consider to be more inspiring than this lady here.

a)  Don't look at my hair  b)  I told you not to look!  c)  Nice glow in the dark necklace, Momo

That woman next to me is Ree Drummond, also known as The Pioneer Woman.  Also, I am in no way comparing Ree to the Jimmy Dean sun.  Though she can make a room brighter just by walking in.  Just sayin'.

Ree is one of the most popular, female bloggers in the world.  She is an amazing photographer, mother and author (of a cookbook, a romance story and a children's book...how well rounded can someone be?).  To top it off, she's about as down to earth as a person can get.  I want to be Ree when I grow up.

Now, I don't take a lot of advice about what to do with my blog.  I follow the advertising guidelines of my publishing network (Hi, BlogHerads!), but that's about it.  This is my hangout for crying out loud.  Stay off my lawn!

But, when the intelligent and successful Ree Drummond tells you that you should "change things up", you should listen.  She wasn't talking to me, specifically, but rather to her audience in her "Ten Important Things I've Learned About Blogging" section.

A couple of years ago I did change things up when I requested a custom blog design from Courtney of Judith Shakes Design.  She took a mish-mash of my ideas and made this page exactly the way I wanted.  It was a dramatic and brilliant alteration for which I am not responsible.  Dang it.

Now the time has come, once again, to "change things up".  I'm eventually leaving this platform and going where there is more to offer.  I'm getting a new custom theme, custom icons, a new twitter background, new page templates, miscellaneous graphics, all of my posts transferred and SO much more.

Courtney at Judith Shakes Design is doing ALL of it.

Courtney is about eighty shades of smart and I am not.  I want professional results, so I'm letting a professional handle it.  I'm taking Ree's advice and running with it, but I'm letting someone else do all of the exercise.  Wait...I am smart!

I didn't plan on this blog taking me anywhere, but it did, and I don't want the same scenery for my entire journey.  I'll create the experience, but Courtney will be my travel guide so I don't get lost along the way.

And, if YOU book space on the Judith Shakes Design calendar for a design project of at least $300, Courtney will give you $50 off with the code - MOMO4EVER.

You.  Are.  Welcome.

If you're a blogger, come and join me.  Let's go places we never thought possible.  Life is too short to just stand still.

Labels: BlogHer, Bringing Home the Bacon, My TV Addiction, Things I Would Change, Tooting My Own Horn

When I was a little girl, I wanted to be a surgeon. I was fascinated with the human body, with all of its intricacies and its ability to work the parts together like a symphony.  Cutting into a person to repair something, to heal them, well, what better way to show my homage?

The picture in my head was of fixing someone to make them whole again, to mend a broken part so it would sync with the body.  The picture in my head was one of seeing the person move without a limp, to dance without pain and of heartbeats and the color of a muscle.

I was looking at surgery like a creative endeavor.  

Unfortunately, between me and my art stood histology and microbiology and a lot of other "ologies".  It turns out that the intricacies of the human body are all very scientific.  Who knew?

During college, I worked in sales.  I loved sales and I was really good at it, but as it turns out, when you move from selling contemporary home furnishings and dinnerware to selling someone a 30 year mortgage, a lot of the fun goes right out the window.

Somewhere along the line, I stopped trying to decide what to be and allowed myself to be forced into work I did not enjoy.  Then I had babies.  Remember my discussion about the intricacies of the human body?  Yeah, well some of those intricacies will get you knocked up.

For the past 12 years, my life has revolved around shaping my children.  Helping them grow, keeping them healthy, encouraging them to use their brains, play harder, be smarter, be confident and kind.  Oh, and those intricacies?  Most of them come flying out explosively in a newborn's diaper anyway.

Through all of these occupational changes, there has been one constant.  There has always been my love of the written word.  Of course, reading the thoughts of others usually doesn't pay much.  If they paid you for love and enthusiasm, however, I would be rich!

Up until about a month ago, I was pretty discouraged.  In just over six months, I will turn 40 and as badly as I wanted to follow my passion, I didn't see it working out.  Being employed as a cook has been rewarding and enjoyable, but you can't keep the heat turned on by telling the gas company that you'll pay them with sloppy Joes.

I spent months looking for something that would allow me to do what I love.  I spent so much time job hunting that I had to stop other writing gigs so I could focus on earning more money.  I sent my resume to so many creative companies that it would make your head spin.

"Hmmm...well, she has no experience and not much of an education.  She owned her own business, but now she works as a cook.  This resume goes in the lost cause pile."

And, that's how I felt.  I was a lost cause.

Though, I looked at the bright side.  I still had my evenings free to chat on Twitter and to read blogs where I could immerse myself in the brilliance and creativity of others.  Too bad you can't get paid for that!

Until one day, when I opened my e-mail to find someone had sent me a rainbow.  No, not a stupid e-mail forward, but a real, live rainbow.  One that I could climb atop and slide down.  One where I flew right past the leprechaun and into a pot filled with golden Twitter streams.

My love of blogging and my passion for social media got me a job.

Not just any job, but my dream job.  It is exactly what I have been looking for.  For a long, long time.

I am reading the ideas and opinions of intelligent people and I am taking in the flow of language.  I see pieces of writing come together, each individual word on a page melding into one thought.

I am communicating constantly through social media.  I believe it to be the most powerful resource and tool that a company can have.

I am working from home with my children near me.  I am giving them room to grow, but still here to guide them.

And, none of this would be possible without a company who sees past a pathetic resume and, instead, sees that passion is, sometimes, more important than experience.

I am happy.  I enjoy my work immensely.  I love doing something I believe in.  All the parts are finally coming together.

Like a symphony.

Labels: Bringing Home the Bacon, Ramblings, Socializing, Tooting My Own Horn

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

This is me from the April issue of Ladies Home Journal magazine. That's right, I'm officially published.

Sure it's only 150 words, and it's pretty much the last page in the magazine, and in this picture I look like I'm straining under the weight of 25 pounds of meat, because I AM, and the roast on top kept rolling around, and all that balancing and lifting made me look like I need a laxative, and they edited out the burners on my stove, but not my flabby arms, and I look as pale as Eddie Munster, and people at work didn't even recognize me because I wasn't wearing my glasses. But, it's Ladies Home Journal, people!

And, at the very least, my kitchen was really clean for about 20 minutes.

If you want to pick up a copy, it's the one with Brooke Shields on the front. Which is kind of awesome, because now Brooke and I are like this. I gave her tips on posing.

Why was I in the magazine? Why was my kitchen clean for once? The back story is here. And, when you're done reading that, go read these.

Being Michael's Daddy, Suburban Scrawl, World of Weasels, A Look on the Random Side, Code Monkey Daddy, Double the Fun, Real Men Drive Minivans, Beautiful Wreck, Half Past Kissin' Time, D is for Dad, Nuclear Family Warhead, Joeprah, Big Bad Daddy Rant, Dear Mr. Man, The Busy Dad Blog, Get Off the Ground, The Devoted Dad, Knee Deep in Kids and Surprised Mom.

Because if not for them, I wouldn't have been juggling that roast.

Labels: Photos, Ramblings, Tooting My Own Horn

1. If you happen to be home on a Sunday afternoon and are expecting a camera crew from a major national magazine to stop by, you may find it beneficial to empty the liquid from a glass like this into your belly. Twice.


2. Then you'll still be nervous.

3. If the photographer has told you that he will be shooting pictures in your kitchen and in your garage, make sure you spend two days cleaning your kitchen.

4. Then realize that you haven't touched the rusted paint cans, dried leaves and random pieces of cardboard in your garage until two hours before he arrives.

5. At which time you may beg your husband to clean it for you.

6. There may also be be shrieking involved.

7. If the magazine for which you're posing has a circulation of roughly 4 million, you may find it is a perfect time to a) wax your own eyebrows, b) experiment with liquid eyeliner and c) forget to test your hairspray nozzle so that it doesn't so much spray as it does shoot a solid stream of liquid into your fresh curls.

8. As soon as the crew sets up their equipment and has your kitchen completely blocked off with lights, wires and big umbrellas, your kids will tell you that they're hungry.


9. If you happen to be busty then, by all means, pick a button down shirt for the shoot so that every time the photographer asks you to put your hands on your hips it pops open at just the right spot.

10. Then it will be like you're posing for an entirely different type of magazine.

Labels: Photos, Random Realizations, Tooting My Own Horn

So, what do you think of my new design? Don't answer that if you don't think it's awesome. Because A) It is ALL KINDS of awesome and B) It's my birthday.

If you want something pretty and shiny, go see her. I LOVE her. Even if she did speak a lot of Greek and code and I just sat there and scratched my head and then she totally knew I was scratching my head and just MADE this. Amazing. She is so talented. My only talent is being able to hang a spoon on the end of my nose.

Labels: Ramblings, Tooting My Own Horn

Last year I took fingers to keyboard and wrote to Oprah's people about the community of moms I had found on-line. I thought it was a great idea for a show. I mentioned that blogging had opened up a new world for me....a world where I didn't feel strange talking about the things no one ever tells you before you become a parent.

Labels: My TV Addiction, Oprah Cliffs Notes, Tooting My Own Horn

While I'm on vacation this week, the theme of my posts has been Momo's Show and Tell. And yet, you're still here. Glutton for punishment, eh?

We discussed random. We discussed my Buckeye fever. Today, we'll talk about my attraction to wine.

See this wine bottle? It's holding my favorite flavor. What? I can call it a flavor if I want to.


What's so lovely about this particular Riesling is that it almost comes up to my six year old's waist. That's what I like to call "more bang for your buck". It was purchased at Sam's Club, where the butcher sommelier told me it was quite yummy.

But, even it's bitter I'll still drink it. I am an equal opportunity imbiber.

My father-in-law makes homemade wine that is some of the best I've ever tasted. And, talk about a bang. Whew! His wine will knock your socks and shoes off.

You'll wake up the next morning and notice you've stuck your Chuck Taylors to the ceiling with masking tape. Then you'll wonder how it happened, because the last thing you remember was skipping down the sidewalk catching butterflies and singing Just Between You and Me.

So the next time you raise a glass of wine to your lips, think of me. My father-in-law is here on vacation with us for the next couple of days, which means I'll likely be walking around barefoot.

Let me know if you're interested in adopting a butterfly.

Labels: Photos, Ramblings, Tooting My Own Horn

Since I'm in the mood to share, and because it's just two days until kick-off, I thought I would tell you about my passion for all things Buckeye.

Buckeyes, like these.

This particular bunch hangs from a shelf near my back door. Because you never know when you're going to be running out and feel the need to put on a necklace made from poisonous nuts.

Some of these were purchased from street vendors, some were made by my father-in-law and two of them were made by my kids when they were in preschool. Sigh...it makes me weepy just thinking about their little hands working with strings, magic markers and toxic beads.

I am an Ohioan born and bred. I have traveled far, but have always lived within a few miles of the hospital where I was born. I like it that way. (Though not so much that I couldn't be convinced to winter in Arizona. Just sayin'.) The only college choice for me was The Ohio State University.

I love me some Ohio State football. It doesn't get much better than waking before sunrise, tailgating with good friends and family in an electric environment, watching The Best Damn Band in the Land, then having the boys play "toss the rag doll" with the likes of Michigan. Gag. Hack. Sorry. I can't type the word Michigan without my lunch coming up.

And yes, I'm fully aware that Ohio State is the best #1 team to always end up #2. Okay, okay. We're not so good at winning championships. It's a lot like going to prom and instead of dancing with the cheerleaders, our boys end up dancing with their Moms who just happen to be there chaperoning. But, at least they get to dance.

That's right. I am not a fair-weather fan. I don't care if they tango with their great-aunt and her oxygen tank. I'll be there to cheer them on.

Football season is about to begin. Fear the nut, people. Fear the nut.

Labels: Ohio State Buckeyes, Ramblings, Tooting My Own Horn

At my daughter's softball game a few days ago, my son was playing with a six year old girl. He loves this girl. If she's not at a game to watch her big sister, he will continually ask me where she is.

As a matter of fact, when she arrived at the ballfield, he ran to her with arms wide open, yelling her name, and for a second, I thought he was going to tackle her. You never know with this kid. It's not unreasonable to think he would pounce on her chest like a puppy and start licking her face.

They were playing behind our row of chairs and at one point I turned around to see my boy jumping furiously.

When we got home I asked, "Why were you jumping so much tonight?"

And, I decided I'm going to sit him down to have a talk with his Dad because his reply was, "Because Grace told me to."

Labels: Kids, Shameless Statements, Tooting My Own Horn

Okay, okay. Sorry it took so long Christine. I was finally able to sneak away from my yard sale and get back here. I had to wrestle an 80 year old who stole a 25 cent, magnetic checkers game, so I've been kind of busy.

It was fun reading your burning questions. Like NukeDad's, "Is kneecap licking a genetic trait, or can it be learned?" It's genetic. When my husband proposed to me, he got down on his knee and then licked mine. The rest is history!

Along those lines, Chefmom wants to know, "What is it with boys and licking?" I don't know, Chefmom. I just don't know.

Xbox4NappyRash, Lisa, and Angie asked about the name of my blog. Congrats to Jill, who knew the answer.

A fellow blogger once said that when she met me, she was expecting a 300 pound Samoan woman...what, with my name being Momo Fali and all.

But, Momo Fali is actually Mom of Ali. Many years ago I created an on-line account with the user name "momofali". My best friend, Bean, was confused and sent me an e-mail asking, "Who's Momo Fali?" I've been Momo (or Mo) ever since, but to answer Angie's question...no one calls me that it real life.

Geeks in Rome asked how it's pronounced. Fali rhymes with alley.

Rachel wants to know, "What do you think is the one thing you'd do differently with your blog if you were starting over? Well Rachel, I wouldn't name it a name that no one understands and that they can't pronounce without having to think about it.

Hottdog, Gramma Ann, and Kiera, asked about the blog etiquette I mentioned. This is an awfully broad topic for this measly venue. First and foremost, don't ASK someone to link to you. And for crying out loud, use your spellcheck.

Amy from Doobleh-Vay (now that's a cool name) wondered, "...how you became such a high ranking blog star so quickly?" and Dapoppins asked, "...how the heck did you manage to generate so many comments?" Four words people. Deep pockets and bribery. And Amy, about that "high ranking blog star" stuff...you really shouldn't read my Mom's website. She's a little biased.

Heather asked, "When are you going to get on writing that book?" and Katy wants to know, "What is the subject of your book?" You mean that book I started back in 20 B.C.? I'll finish that as soon as time stands still. And Katy, I love, love, love humor. There's just nothing better than a funny book. That's why I'm writing a murder mystery.

Now for the miscellany...

Manager Mom - "Do you still have insomnia?" Yes, I do. Though I am writing this in my sleep...obviously.

O My Blog - "Why do people shop at Ikea?" Because you can't be hip, unless you buy hip.

Jo Beaufoix - "What do you prefer, cockles or barnacles?" I'm going to have to go with cockles. It's more fun to say.

Ms. Picket - "Did you see the small item in Newsweek (Cindy McCain on the cover) about how blogging can be therapeutic and that some shrinks are recommending it? And if so, or even if not, got thoughts on that?" I did not see the article, but blogging has been extremely therapeutic for me. Now, if I could just get my blog to write a Vicodin prescription...

Bean - "Recent polls have shown that a fifth of Americans can't locate the U.S. on a world map. Why do you think this is?" Because U.S. Americans don't have maps. Duh.

Tara R. - "What is your biggest pet peeve?" The saying, "a-whole-nother". It's like nails on a chalkboard.

HRH - "Can you convert debt into jewelry?" Sure! I can also pull a string of pearls out of your ear.

Holly - "Does my butt look big in this?" Holly! Have you seen yourself lately? You're wasting away woman.

Transfattyacid - "If you were a man, what is the one thing you would like to do, that you feel you can't do as a woman?" Dude. That's simple. Pee standing up.

Mama Dawg - "Will you always try to keep your son from doing the highly entertaining feats that he performs on a daily basis or will you just one day throw your hands up in the air and just let him do what he does so well?" Look, he's no Tiger Woods...so if I'm going to retire early, the boy has to bring the funny.

Soapy B - "Why did you go to OSU?" That's The Ohio State University to you, Soapy. Where was I supposed to go? Michigan? Hack. Gag. Sorry, that word comes out with a hairball every time.

Goon Squad Sarah - "What is the most embarrassing concert you ever went to?" This is tough. I've been to some bad concerts. I'll go with Tesla. Some things should have stayed in the 80's.

And finally, Jill Provost - "May I lick your knee in honor of your blogoversary?" Yes, you may..but then you'll have to marry me.

Labels: Ramblings, Tooting My Own Horn

Way back when, on June 26, 2007, I started this blog. I put fingertips to keyboard because I love to write and I wanted a creative outlet. I started a book a few years ago, but as I mentioned in my very first post, "...I thought my insomnia would give me plenty of time to write a book, but it turns out I'd rather sit and watch infomercials on HGTV at 3:00 AM".

Before I began, I only read the likes of Dad Gone Mad, Dooce, and Bossy. I was unaware there are trillions of blogs. I didn't know there was such a thing as "blog-etiquette". I had no idea what I was doing. For crying out loud, I didn't even know how to enable comments until three months into this gig.

Some people were kind enough to point me in the right direction. Thanks Eden and Danny, for helping out a schmuck in need...and for doing it with kindness. For the record, that will be the last time you hear me say something nice about you. I have a sarcastic image to uphold, you know?

And, thanks to the readers who come here to witness my incoherent ramblings. You make this fun. Even if you're only coming to read that my son licked my cousin's knee at my Aunt M's funeral (he did).

Your visits and comments make me smile. Some of you leave remarks more inappropriate than my son at church, but most are downright hysterical.

Speaking of comments, in honor of this blogoversary I'd like to pull a Carol Burnett (minus the yodeling) and take your questions.

Boys and girls, is there anything you'd like to know? I'm a half-open book.

Labels: Ramblings, Tooting My Own Horn

Labels: Photos, Ramblings, Tooting My Own Horn

After seeing my last post and reading that I took my kids hiking, a lovely lady left a comment to tell me that I’m “the coolest Mom ever”. Apparently, I need to set the record straight.

I am not a cool Mom. I don’t even really like kids. I mean, I love my own…and thank goodness I love their friends. For now anyway, they are all well-behaved, kind, and clean.

I think my lack of coolness around little ones started when I began babysitting at the age of thirteen. I took a Red Cross class, I took CPR, and I checked out How-To books on managing children from the local library. I was excited. I was ready!

My first job was to babysit my three year old cousin. It was shortly after Halloween, and before I arrived, this sweet little girl had ingested a mountain of Smarties. As I was helping her brush her teeth before bed she said, “I think I need to get to the toileURGH”, at which point a massive amount of vomit poured out of her and all over the floor. We were two feet away from the sink and just inches from the toilet, but she didn’t make it to either of them.

So I did what any babysitter would do. I called my Mommy.

While I heard my Mom gagging upstairs as she threw puke covered paper towels into a trash can, I watched my cousin’s dog lick regurgitated Smarties off her pajamas. Then I sat on the steps, cried, and I thought about how I would never, ever watch kids again. I would just look at them from a distance.

Just a few months later, my Mom was babysitting my nephew when he threw up at various places throughout our house. What is it with the vomiting?! The next time I was forced into watching him, I ended up walking him in circles around our neighborhood for hours…in the 40 degree chill…just so that if he spewed, I wouldn’t have to clean it up.

For a germophobe like me, runny noses, dirty fingers, boogers, poo…and vomit…are sometimes too much to handle. Throw in some back-talk and bad manners from kids you don’t know well enough to punish, and watch Momo run longingly to the nearest tall person for some adult company.

But, I did take my kids hiking. And, wouldn’t you know that as we were eating our picnic lunch, my six year old son choked on his sandwich and threw up. At least we were outside…no clean-up required.

See? I’m only cool when it’s convenient.

Labels: Kids, Tooting My Own Horn