Top 10 Songs to Send Your Child off to School By

This weekend we went out and completed all our school shopping, I can't believe my little man is going to be in the 1st grade. Where does the time go? Well it got me thinking about how I'm just as emotional facing 1st grade as I was facing Kindergarten. So as a tribute to my own son AND daughter who starts Pre-K this year as well, I am posting this piece I wrote last year at this time. For all of you moms out there who are watching there child move from one stage of life into another...

Top 10 Songs to Send Your Child off to School By

I have recently found myself facing one of the biggest milestones a parent can reach while raising children, my young son will be entering Kindergarten. As any of you who have been through this, or will soon be facing it know, it is something that fills you with a myriad of emotions.

On one hand, I find myself brimming with excitement. PTA meetings, school plays, homework, watching my son grow from a boy into a young man. What’s not to look forward to? Other times I look at him, and all I see is that sweet blue-eyed boy that we brought home from the hospital five short years ago. How can I send my baby out into the world? Will one of those little girls running around be the first to break his heart? Will he stand up to his first bully, or have his spirit broke by him? Will he enjoy school, or will he rebel against it?

It’s so difficult to not know these answers, but know that I have to let him go anyway. There are parents out there reading this who are feeling this too. Maybe its not Kindergarten, maybe you’re sending yours off to college, or for some of you, you’re baby is getting married. Whichever one you’re facing, it’s still the same.

It just like when they were toddlers learning to walk. You wanted them to walk, but you feared for them, because you knew that they were going to have to fall before they could walk. As with any other big moment in life, I have a running soundtrack playing in my head right now. These are the songs that I hear playing in my head as I fill my son’s first backpack with school supplies. As I fill out his emergency cards, and shop for his new shoes. As I watch him begin his life.

So for every parent whose little one is starting Kindergarten, college, or simply starting their own life, here is a list of tunes to sneak onto their Ipod before they go.

1. Everything But The Girl-Apron Strings

Being a mom, the term “Apron String:” has a number of meanings, but the strings that are sung about in this EBTG tune are the ones that every mom wishes they could forever keep their baby safely wrapped in for the rest of their lives.




2. Kate Bush-This Woman’s Work

When its time for your child to begin making journeys on their own, without you, it leaves you plagued with fear. Have you done a good job? Have you given them all the tools they need to be strong and to succeed? Those are some of the questions that flood my mind when I hear this Kate Bush classic.





3. Cyndi Lauper-Time After Time

OK, so maybe this is slightly on the melodramatic side, but it truly captures the essence of what every parent desperately hopes for when letting go of their little one. That wherever your child goes they know that we will always be there. That when they need us to go slow, we will always fall behind, when they are lost we will always be there to help them find their way, and when they fall we will always catch them. Time after time after time.

(Honorable mention goes to True Colors)




4. Rod Stewart- Forever Young

One of the classic songs about what a parent feels for a child. So much so, that I’ve heard this song played at weddings, funerals, graduation parties, and baby showers. Its universal message of parental love comes through no matter what path of life you are on. I even used this song in a video I made for my parents 25thwedding anniversary. Now, as I look at my son who is so quickly turning from a boy to a young man, all I see is that young baby we brought home from the hospital about to go to school.



5. Crosby, Stills, Nash, and Young- Teach Your Children

This tune is pretty much a given. I, like most parents I’m sure, hope that all of my crazy insecurities and quirks haven’t damaged my son too much. And I know in the years to follow he will have so much more to teach us than we could ever begin to teach him.




6. The Cast of Rent-Seasons of Love

It’s so surreal to look back on the years spent watching your child grow. This song always makes me flash on the idea of how many diapers have I changed? How many tears have I wiped away, scraped knees have I kissed? How many tickle fits, time outs, bowels of Mac & Cheese, swings, campfires, nightmares, sing alongs, legos, stories have I read, and kisses goodnight have there been? I couldn’t begin to count, but I could tell you that there have been miles and miles of love, and so many more miles to cover.





7. Kenny Loggins-Return to House at Pooh Corner

I was already past my due date with my son when I became obsessed with hearing this song. I hadn’t heard it in ages and with my son soon to be making his debut, I couldn’t get this song out of my head. So I dragged my very pregnant self to Target and bought Kenny Loggins greatest hits CD and sat in the parking lot and listened to it. I went home and sat in the nursery, decked out in all Winnie The Pooh décor, and listened to it again. Now as I listen to it almost six years later, with that same little guy about to embark on his own adventures, I’m still as excited as I was the day he was born.


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8. Cat Stevens –Wild World

When most people hear this tune they automatically think “break up” song, but when I heard it on the radio recently, it kind of struck me how it’s about all the scary things that are out there. Bullies, mean teachers, broken hearts, friends who turn out to not be friends; all the things that a parent can’t ever protect a child from. It truly is a wild world out there.


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9. Beautiful Boy- John Lennon

Though I feel so much that my son is growing up, this song makes me realize the reality is, he’s still my boy. And we do have such a long way to go. And each day life with him gets better and better, and I can’t wait to what the next part of his life will bring.



10. Three Little Birds-Bob Marley

If there was one message I could forever embed into my child’s mind to take with him everywhere he goes for the rest of his life, it would be this. Everything little thing is going to be all right.



For everybody who is entering into a new phase of parenthood, whether it is becoming a parent, sending a child off to Kindergarten or college, or sending them into marriage, I wish you the best, and if music captures you like it does me, listen to these with a hanky nearby.

My Life According to John Hughes

As I sit writing this I am listening to one of my all time favorite songs, Pretty In Pink by the Psychedelic Furs. A song that still stirs up so many melancholy feelings and memories that I can’t listen to it without a small lump rising from the depths of my gut all the way to my throat.

It took so many years for me to really be comfortable in my own skin. I was one of those kids that was teased mercilessly when I was young. I was the last one of the girls in the junior high locker room to wear a bra or shave my legs. My hair was a dirty reddish blond and I had freckles. I loved books and music. I wrote letters to Senators. I wrote short stories about time traveling kids and mysterious caves. In the third grade. Yes, I was born a geek.

When I was first introduced to the cliques and groups of the school years, I wanted to be cool. I wanted to hang out with the cool girls and be cool. But I wasn’t cool. At 31, I can look back and say that with much pride. I was not cool then, and I never would be. I’m ok with that now. But I wrestled with it then.

The L.A. Gears, the Aqua Net, and the Calvin Klein jeans, they weren’t me. They never would be. I would always be Levis and converse. Always be braids & ponytails. And I would always be uncool.

When I was in the 8th grade I realized that. And instead of fighting the part of me that was chronically uncool I gave in to it. I died my hair black. Traded in the L.A. Gear for converse and ripped Levis. I sat in my room blasting Psychedelic Furs, The Smiths, and Concrete Blonde.

Basically, I would never be Breakfast Club Molly Ringwald. I would always be Pretty in Pink Molly Ringwald.

Most of you reading this will get exactly what I mean by that.

Yesterday famed director and writer John Hughes passed away at the young age of 59. He was my hero.

There are a million reasons why John Hughes impacted so many of people in my generation and beyond. And as I sit here to write a tribute to this amazing man, I realize that it would take a year to do so. But I’ll try anyway.

I always responded, even at a young age, to amazing storytelling. And above anything else in my whole life there is nothing I ever wanted to do more than that. Whether it be telling a story through words, music, or film.

John Hughes did, using all three mediums. He was able to bring to life characters that, all these years later, I still hold so very close to my heart. He was able to use music to help breathe life into a scene and make you truly feel in the depths of your soul what the character was feeling and going through.

He was able to make you laugh with every fiber of your being.

The man could tell a story. And he did tell stories. A million of them. He told my story. And that’s what was so personally inspiring to me.

I mentioned earlier about forever being uncool. A huge part of the reason why I was ever able to find some comfort in my uncool skin was the characters John Hughes brought to life, who were also uncool.

Keith in Some Kind of Wonderful was a favorite character that I related too. Never was there a better example of a teenager being cool with being uncool. At least in the end he was.

Even some of the later movies that dealt more with adulthood. She’s Having a Baby (another favorite, this amazingly autobiographical movie was based on Hughes’s life before becoming a famed screenwriter and director). Still gets me. More now then when I was a kid, obviously. I know what it is to be working a dead end 9 to 5 job, knowing that it’s not me. Knowing that I was meant to do more. Just not sure how to get it.

Basically I loved John Hughes because he touched me. He told stories that touched many people and made them feel better about who they were. He made a million teenagers feel comfortable in their own skin.

Well, at least he did for me.

For as long as I’ve been able to put pen to paper and create words, I’ve been a writer.

A few years ago I began getting paid to write. My first paying job was helping create content for a website that was in Beta and needed users to fill it up before it went public. The content? Memories related to music. My own personal memories and the songs that they related to.

I was getting paid to be John Hughes.

In the time I was writing those short stories, I did a lot of soul searching. I came to terms with a lot of things and I realized just how much I loved my life. The good the bad, and the ugly. And there has been a lot of all three over the years. And I attribute much of my surviving it all to the stories of John Hughes. His love of music and his way with words will always be a huge part of me.

The characters he brought to life will always be as dear to me as the real friends I shared my teen years with.

John Hughes may be gone but his legacy will live forever. In the heart of every poor teen who refuses to be defined by their social status. By every jock that knows that he is not better than everyone else. For every prom queen with a soul. For every geek who wears the title proudly. For every man who never quite grows up and for every family living and loving their life in the suburb’s of America.

Will I ever make a living as a writer? I hope so. Somehow, someway. Will I always write? Yes. Because, John Hughes showed me that when your life is full of colorful and amazing people and stories, it’s truly a crime to keep them to yourself.

I’ve always hated labels. I feel like I spent half of my childhood trying to find a label that fit and the other half trying to rip off any label anyone dared to put on me. And that’s the moral of almost every John Hughes movie. We can’t control, how other people see us, but we can control how we see ourselves when we look in the mirror.

In the immortal words of John Hughes (as said by Anthony Michael Hall),

"Dear Mr. Vernon: We accept the fact that we had to sacrifice a whole Saturday in detention for whatever it was we did wrong. But, we think you're crazy to make us write an essay telling you who we think we are. You see us, as you want to see us: in the simplest terms, in the most convenient definitions. But, what we found out is that each one of us is: a brain . . .
And an athlete . . .
And a basket case . . .
A princess . . .
And a criminal.
Does that answer your question?
Sincerely yours,
The Breakfast Club.”

Enjoy The Silence

As I write this I am sitting near a roaring campfire. The only sounds I can hear is the crackle of the flames, the constant soothing sound of the nearby river and off in the not so far distance the sound of my husbands laugh as he chats with a fellow camper. Occasionally I'll catch the sound of my sleeping children turning over in their sleeping bags in the tent.

These of course are not the sounds I'm used to at home. The sounds at home are the sounds of everyday life and are constantly playing out around me.

When we come to the mountains, as we do so many weekends in the summer, it's like giving in to mother nature. About a 1/2 hour before we get here we give up cell service (even though I'm still able to write blog posts at will on my iPhone). We give up the stresses of money & bills, and the ever growing needs of our family. Not that we don't have needs here on the mountains, they're just different needs.

Like the need to build a sandcastle on the bank of the river. Or the need to read my book. Or the need to have s'mores or go fishing. You know, the kind of needs that are simple and don't take a whole lot of thought.

I enjoy the silence. I know come Sunday the sounds of reality will come washing over of us again, just as they were a few short hours ago. But tonight those sounds are mute. My world is calm and it is silent. And it is wonderful.

I'll enjoy it while it lasts.

Posted with LifeCast

Frank McCourt

My love of writing is of course a direct result of my love of reading. Over the years there have been a million books that have touched me, entertained me, or made me laugh or just maybe made me cry. And in that same amount of time there have been a number of authors that have truly inspired me with not just their story, but their ABILITY to tell the story. Often times in a way I never could.

In my early years of reading Lucy Maud Montgomery, Judy Blume, Beverly Clearly, and the amazing women who wrote under the name Carolyn Keene all drew me in to their amazing worlds. And inspired me to want to create my own worlds. As I got a little older Thoreau, Keats, Longfellow, and Whitman taught me the music of poetry and how words truly are mightier than the sword.

Stephen King, in my early teen years, would become one of the most definitive storytellers I'd ever have the great honor of reading.

As an adult Chuck Palahniuck became another great storyteller in my life.

But the most amazing storyteller I came to know as an adult was Frank McCourt. Angela's Ashes, as sad as it was, was compelling and beautiful. I read it front to back two times in a row after purchasing it. Funny thing, I've read the book a few times over the years, but still have never seen the movie.

His second book, 'Tis, was even more emotional for me. There was something so absolutely familiar about Frank McCourt to me at that point. I think I associated him with my own Grandfather. A man I loved and respected so very much who passed away long before he ever got to tell me the kind of stories that I was able to hear from Frank McCourt.

And knowing that they were roughly the same age living in the same New York neighborhood. I always figured there was probably a pretty real possibility that my grandpa could have been one of the numerous Irish neighborhood guys in the background of 'Tis.

Even if not, I always felt like 'Tis gave me a glimpse into what life was like for my grandpa. I was able to get that glimpse because of the amazing raconteur that Frank McCourt was.

Thank you Frank McCourt for giving me that glimpse. And thank you for making me want to share stories and my life with others. Thank you for inspiring me, entertaining me, and making me cry.

This is a traditional Irish Prayer spoken at funerals, that I share with you readers today in honor of a great writer, Frank McCourt. And for my grandpa who I still think of all the time.

Death is nothing at all.
It does not count.
I have only slipped away into the next room.
Everything remains as it was.
The old life that we lived so fondly together is untouched, unchanged.
Whatever we were to each other, that we are still.
Call me by the old familiar name.
Speak of me in the easy way which you always used.
Put no sorrow in your tone.
Laugh as we always laughed at the little jokes that we enjoyed together.
Play, smile, think of me, pray for me.
Let my name be ever the household word that it always was.
Let it be spoken without effort
Life means all that it ever meant. It is the same as it ever was.
There is unbroken continuity.
Why should I be out of mind because I am out of sight?
I am but waiting for you, for an interval, somewhere very near, just around the corner.
All is well. Nothing is hurt; nothing is lost.
One brief moment and all will be as it was before.
How we shall laugh at the trouble of parting, when we meet again.

Breastfeeding Sucks.

Warning: Some Content in the following post may be unsuitable for people who don't like talking about cracked nipples!


That's right, I said it. Breastfeeding sucks. That was one of the greatest pieces of advice I ever picked up as a new mom.

Let me back up just a bit. For me deciding to breastfeed was never really much of a decision. I knew I was going to breastfeed the moment we decided to start trying for kids. When I finally got pregnant I bought all the books, read every magazine article and even took a breastfeeding class at the local clinic. I was going to be the best breastfeeder EVER.

As it turned out the books, the class, and all the magazine articles left out a number of things. What all those great breaftedding articles didn't talk about was my 30 hour labor and my 10lb baby boy. They neglected to mention the effect that a 30 hour labor and the horrific tearing that took 20 minutes to stitch up would have on my ability to sit down and breastfeed on the early weeks. Or how that discomfort would make it harder for my milk to let down so the feedings would take even longer.

They said my nipples might crack & bleed. They said engorgement may cause a little "discomfort." What they didn't say was that the pain involved might actually make me forget about the pain of childbirth.

These resources also listed some of the pitfalls of breastfeeding. Like mastitis, thrush and the continuous leaking from my beasts. They didn't explain how excruciating these things could be, especially when they all happened to me one right after the other.

Needless to say in those early weeks of motherhood I was feeling pretty beat down by breastfeeding. I felt like I was doing something wrong. I also felt like I couldn't get a break. I really wanted breastfeeding to be this beautiful and mystical experience for me and my son. It just wasn't working out that way.

Then somewhere along the way I came across a blog post online, I don't remember where exactly now. But in this post the woman said, "Anyone who tells you breastfeeding is easy is a big liar! But if you stick it out, it gets better."

And I did stick it out. Thanks to ice packs, lanolin, antibiotics and ibuprofen my problems passed. And breastfeeding did turn out to be one of the best things I ever did. I went on to breastfeed my son until he weaned himself at 14 months, even pumping for a whole year once I went back to work.

When I had my daughter a couple of years later I breastfed her as well. Oddly enough other than gritting my teeth through some sore nipples, it was pretty easy the second time around. Then again I think the breastfeeding Gods owed me one.

So why tell this story almost 6 years later on my blog? Because somewhere out there is a new mom with cracked nipples and a hungry baby. And she's feeling like maybe, just maybe, it's just too hard.

Well honey, it is hard. In fact it sucks. But it gets better. And it's worth every ache and pain.

Posted with LifeCast

What we Learned This Year

This weekend I've been jammin to the Rent soundtrack. And the title song, Season's of Love has got me choked up more then once in that time. The main reason of course being that my son just completed Kindergarten, And not to be out done, my daughter completed her first year of tiny tots. It's been a good year. We've all learned a lot. And in the vain of Rent I give you my list of what we've learned in these last 525,600 minutes. Well a little of what we learned this year.

1. Cheyanne learned to write her name.

2. Patrick learned to read.

3. I learned that PTA moms Rock.

4. On January 20 both kids learned what inspiration looks like.

5. Patrick learned that Karma means, "Good things happen when you do good stuff and bad stuff happens when you do bad stuff"

6. Cheyanne learned that when cats hiss, a scratch is soon to follow.

7. I learned that I can't do everything, but I can do all right.

8. Patrick learned to count to 1,000.

9. I learned that my dad is stronger than cancer.

10. Patrick learned to ride his bike without training wheels.

11. I learned that Allen only gets better with age.

12. Cheyanne learned that no matter how much she thinks otehrwise, she's not always in charge.

13. Patrick learned that he's a descendant of a President, and that Abraham Lincoln was a "good man who got killed by some pretty bad people."

14. I learned that T-Ball can do more for the soul than I ever thought possible.

15. I learned that life really is about doing what makes you happy. Anything less is just teaching my kids a bad example.

16. I learned that there is no one cooler to hang out with than my kids.

17. I learned that my family makes award winning scarecrows.

18. I learned that we do know how to grow a great garden around here too.

19. I learned that you don't need money to have a great Christmas.

20. Cheyanne learned how to swing on her own.

One for The Girls

Some people may have read the odd article by Naomi Wolf regarding the Power of Angelina Jolie. There's no need to get into why that makes so little sense when the awesome Julie Roads did it way better than I ever could on her blog. Go read her post now, because the following post was completely inspired by it.

Over the last year that I've been blogging, on twitter, on facebook, and basically just building a network online, I have met so many amazing women. Some I've connected with as friends, some professionally, and some I totally disagree with but have miles of respect for. And it's these women I pictured in my mind as I read Julie's post about Angelina Jolie.

These women I interact with on Twitter and the ones I work with and all the ones that I know in real life and keep in contact with via Facebook.

Women who make me laugh, make me cry, and inspire me each and every day. So to you ladies, I raise a glass to all of you. You who I chat with on twitter. You who I work & collaborate with on different projects. You whose links I "like" and whose status I comment on when I'm reading stuff on Facebook and whose blogs I comment on. In fact if you're reading this, I'm talking to YOU. Naomi Wolfe should take a look at ALL of you to see what true female icons look like. And if any of you are wondering, simply look in a mirror.