What would Judi do?

My favorite part of Christmas is the stockings.  I love making them up and I love getting one.  This is the story of why my kids are the best in the world. The year their dad and I separated, we (obviously) didn't do Christmas stockings for each other.  I was a mess - it was a horrible holiday. The next year was better.  The hatred was gone. But he was dating someone.  I was dating someone (who grew up without this tradition).  We weren't going to do stockings for each other. My kids knew this was such an important part of my holiday - I'd never had a Christmas without one.  They knew the previous year was very tough for me.  And this year (which was really last year) was tough because their grandmother was dying during it all. You're probably wondering what this has to do with my kids being the best in the world, right?  Hold on. This year I was prepping all the stuff I had for the girls' stockings when I remembered what happened last year.  We have a rul

Karma is a bitch.  We've all heard it.  And in my experience it's pretty much true.  But there's also a nice side to karma.  Every now and again I get a reminder from the Universe to pay more attention to that kinder side. My day started out shitty.  My facebook status was  going to say something like "If I don't drop dead from a stroke, this will be a successful day."  Then I started to hear my mother's voice in my head.  When we lived in Ocean City, NJ, she was on a positive thinking kick.  She would get a thought in her head and say it over and over - I suppose much in the way I do with my girls about making a positive impact on others' lives.  Only my mom's mantra was "Thoughts are things" and "Your attitude is your life".  I HATED  hearing those phrases.  Yet, something must have sunk in.  Because about 30 years later, I'm still hearing them. I fought with my daughters this morning.  I yelled.  I felt bad and it was

Hello.  My name is Judi and I'm an addict. Addict to what?  It depends. Sometimes it's to a tv show.  Or three.  Like Dexter.  Homeland.  Real Housewives (that last one is a secret vice.  Don't judge). Sometimes it's to a book.  50 Shades had me hooked there for a while.  Usually it's something far more mundane.  Illusions - my favorite book.  I've read it at least 50 times. Sometimes it's a movie.  We won't talk about how many times I've watched Rocky Horror - but that's been over 30 years so that's not so bad. Sometimes it's a food.  When I was in second grade I loved  maraschino cherries.  I loved them so much I ate an entire jar in one sitting.  Haven't touched one since.  The site of one makes my stomach hurt. Sometimes it's people.  That is a separate post entirely. Sometimes it's a restaurant.  We used to eat at the Woodside all the time.  Now I avoid it.  It never was a great place to eat. Sometimes it&

Most folks know I am not a huge fan of Christmas.  I think I actually like the holiday.  It's just all the gift buying and wrapping and baking and being sociable stuff I don't love.  I like it all in parts.  I would just like those parts spread out over, say, a few months instead of a few weeks. M asked me the other day: Mommy, what do you want for Christmas? Um, I don't know.  I have everything I need. It's not about need.  It's about want.  What do you WANT? Huh.  I don't know.  What do I want? You want perfume.  Or jewelry.  Or pretty socks.  Not stuff you need. Those are all good ideas.  I like all of those things. Every Christmas (and Mother's Day and my birthday), it's kind of the same thing.  I need  new tiles for the kitchen floor.  I need  a new filter for the refrigerator.  I want something sparkly.  And I feel bad for wanting things.  I don't know why that is.  Maybe it's because I stress about money, the car, th

I did something I don't often get to do.  I got a make over.  This probably isn't a big deal to most folks and I didn't think it was a big deal to me.  Then I realized it was. My sister-in-law (and brother) are in town for our family holiday, Thanksmas.  It's a combination of Thanksgiving and Christmas all rolled into one.  It's normally a time for my girls to spend time with the aunt and uncle and my mom to spend some time with her son.  It's usually a rushed sort of weekend, trying to get a lot of things done in a short period of time.  My participation tends to be making sure the girls are wherever they're supposed to be and attending the family meal. This year was a little different.  My brother was taking my mom to an appointment and the girls were not yet out of school.  I got a text from my SIL that said "come play with me!".  I had paperwork and billing and cleaning and laundry and blah, blah, blah to do.  But I don't often get t