I was reminiscing just the other day

My kids got Taylor Swift concert tickets for Christmas. It was all they asked for what they really, really, really wanted and swore they didn’t need anything much else. And for reasons I can’t completely explain, there are also two tickets for The Dude and I.

Don’t hate me, but I’m kinda excited.

The past couple of times ‘ol Swifty has been in town, we weren’t able to get tickets. Heaven knows we tried. But there’s a fine balance of wanting to do something for your kids and being able to afford your mortgage payment because the only tickets left by the time you actually get through cost nine million dollars. Being a grown-up is so lame, you guys.


With this particular album, we made sure we were on some sort of notification email list-thing that would give us behind the scenes info and the code for presale. (Super technical terms meaning that teenager of mine told us when all the things were happening.) Even knowing all this, getting enough tickets was quite the ordeal. Let’s just say that the two separate ticket buying experiences (there are friends going with us and you could only buy a certain amount of tickets per household) left us all with heart palpitations and PTSD. It also leaves The Dude and I sitting by ourselves (with thousands of other people) so the girls can all sit together and I find this perfectly hilarious.

Timing is a funny thing, though. We’ve been TSwizzle fans for years and years. Yes, I said we. Some of my favorite memories with my girls have been singing TS songs over and over on repeat because they’re the quintessential growing up songs and super fun to sing at the top of your lungs. Even for an alleged grown-up. And this huge concert event in August comes right at a time these girls, and their parents, might need it the most. Because just a couple short weeks later, a few of these girls will be heading off to college where the soundtrack to this next chapter in their life might sound a bit different.




So maybe the title using Taylor Swift song lyrics on yesterday’s post makes the lump in my throat grow into a huge bolder every time I read it. Because obstacles and mountains and expectations and goals and dreams and surviving and hoping that everything will be okay and then getting to a point where we’re more than okay. But also because these girls are the epitome of all the Taylor Swift albums, as silly and cliche as it sounds. They’re young and hopeful and scared and excited. These girls, man. They’re crashing through walls, moving mountains, making magic, fighting dragons and having the time of their lives. And all of this just…fits somehow and the timing is perfect.

Long live all the mountains we moved

The first college acceptance came in today. It’s not her first choice, but as she’s reading the letter she said, “I’m actually going to college, you guys!”

She was worried.

Me? Not so much. I knew. But I understand what she means.

I also understand what it means to ME.

She got in to college, you guys. How the hell are we here already?!!



The long and winding road

I mean, I can do math. But it’s hard to believe I’ve worked for the same company for this many years. I was 19 when I started. My baby was just a couple months old. I had been married for only a few weeks. 1997 was a really busy year for this jerk. Time is freaking flying. Blah, blah, blah.

I think I’ve earned this long weekend.


Some of my favorite things…

Well, I told you I wouldn’t be perfect at this. I’m still pretty annoyed that I missed yesterday’s post.


Yesterday I got to hang out with one of my favorite people. (And no, I’m not going to tell you how many shots of espresso are in that. Besides. You can see for yourself.)

Today? Different folks with even more of my favorite people.


I sorta can’t believe I just put that on the blog.

Anyway. This week has kicked my ass so way glad to be celebrating Thursday. Again.

Happy (almost) Friday everyone!

The Post That Won’t Post

For some reason these wouldn't post. Sorry for any duplicates and annoying behavior. MAYBE I'm sorry.

Well, I told you I wouldn’t be perfect at this. I’m still pretty annoyed that I missed yesterday’s post. Mostly because yesterday I got to hang out with one of my favorite people. (And no, I’m not going to tell you how many shots of espresso are in that. Besides. You can see for yourself.)


Today? Different folks with even more of my favorite people. I sorta can’t believe I just put that on the blog.


Anyway. This week has kicked my ass so way glad to be celebrating Thursday. Again. Happy (almost) Friday everyone!

Ready to run


We are back to half marathon training. More than anything, I’m super proud of our commitment. Getting up before the crack of dawn isn’t easy. But we are doing it.

Thankful for these crazy bitches for forcing me out the door.

Oh darlin don’t you ever grow up…

If you make a promise to yourself to post every weekday in the month of January, it would be SUPER helpful if you actually hit publish or schedule posts correctly. So it’s Saturday. And all I wanted to do is post a cute picture of my niece. Because she’s cute. And we celebrated her birthday and it made me feel weird because how could four years have already passed??

We talked last night about the day she was born. While my sister labored, we filled the hospital white board with possible names. My vote was for Beyonce. Cheetah Talulah was another favorite.

The nurses were so confused.

Anyway, maybe I’m glad I screwed everything up. Because this picture is cuter than the one I took last night.

Happy Birthday, Cheetah Talulah.


That’s just the way it is

I’m watching weird shows on television because I forced myself to go to bed before midnight. I shut off the computer. I’m ignoring the fact that my oldest child is still up doing homework. (Well, I’m not super worried about it anyway.)

I’m so tired. Like, more than usual. And that’s saying something.

For the first time in a long time, I’m looking forward to a weekend of “not as much as usual” so that I can get more sleep and not wear actual clothes that aren’t pajamas.

Maybe yoga pants. Maybe.

But first I have to stop watching weird TV so that I can get some actual sleep and get a WHOLE BUNCH O SHIT done tomorrow so that the weekend can actually start.

Except, this show is kinda quirky. And it’s made me laugh twice. So now I must see it through. Since I’ll probably never watch it again.

Oh hell, it’s over and that show Parenthood is on. Sarah said I’m not allowed to watch that show so maybe I’ll actually go to bed now. Or just change the channel.

I shouldn’t be in charge of my own life.

We Three Wine Gnomes

After my husband and I were married (you know, when we were 12) I began to learn more about his family’s traditions and celebrations. I soon became more acquainted with the holiday I had previously thought of as “Second Christmas” that was celebrated in the first week of January. Growing up in a non-Catholic household, epiphany was just an idea that someone could have.

(Say it with me now: “An epihpy-what?”)
(Say it with me now: “An epihpy-what?”)

I, admittedly, had a LOT to learn.

Luckily, the internet had been invented (even back then) and I found myself debunking another huge misconception: The Twelve Days of Christmas were actually The Twelve Days AFTER Christmas. HOW DID I NOT KNOW?!?

The song had originally been written to help Catholic children learn their catechisms. (And if you think I spelled catechisms right on the first try, you have much more faith in my spelling skills than I.) Learning that helped me to understand why on that 12th day, the epiphany was commemorated as the day the Three Wisemen (or Reyes Magos) visited the Baby Jesus.

In many cultures, this day is celebrated in a similar fashion to how Santa is celebrated here.

Each year, my children write a letter to the Reyes Magos on the evening of January 5th and put that letter in a shoe. That shoe is placed under the Christmas tree. (I’ve heard of several variations of this tradition, but this is how I have always known to celebrate the holiday.) Much like Santa and the stockings, the Reyes Magos leave presents for the children, found the next morning January 6th.

That evening, family gathers for a Reyes Magos celebration. This traditionally includes hot chocolate and the cutting of the Rosca. (Very similar to a King Cake for Mardi Gras.) There are little baby Jesus’ baked into the bread. Whoever finds a baby wins! And then is supposed to throw a party next month.

These are the rules. Well, the rules that I know of and that are celebrated in Mexico and (I think) South America.

(And OMG enough with the history/traditions lesson. I’m sorry that was so long.)

Last night, I invited my non-Catholic, non-Hispanic, family over to celebrate with us. (Is someone going to get mad that I said it like that? I’m sorry in advance.) Most of them, while they knew of the tradition, had never taken part in the actual celebration. I hadn’t been excluding them, this just happened to be the first time I hosted the event. Which, looking back, was probably our first mistake. Can I be trusted with such things??

The answer to that is a resounding NO.

Although, for the record, I had plenty of help in my debauchery and sacrilege. I will not go down alone!

As we prepared for the cutting of the Rosca at the kitchen table, one of my adorable nativity scenes happened to be close by for photo ops and, well, adding to the festivities of the evening. I mean COME ON. Look at them!


As adorable as that scene was, we all felt the lack of wisemen in our scene at our Three Wisemen party celebration.

My sister had the excellent notion to dive into the Polly Pocket toys the littles were playing with. It was a valiant effort! And look…they even brought marshmallows. (Which, to be honest, might be just as awesome as frankincense. Or more so. Says me.)


As much as we enjoyed the almost Shakespearean-opposite feel to our set-up, my husband happened to look over on the counter and spotted a better casting of our Reyes Magos.

Wine Gnomes!!!!

I don’t think you can tell me these three guys weren’t perfect for the roles. Because OMG they were BORN to play these parts.

However, at the risk of sounding like an insensitive, and sacrilegious, asshole, I PROMISE THAT WE FOLLOWED ALL THE OTHER RULES AND TRADITIONS AND NO WINE GNOME WAS HARMED IN THE MAKING OF THIS HOLIDAY.

I mean, I’m probably not going to be allowed to host the Three Wisemen party celebration anymore but I can’t worry about that until next year.