It’s at Dad’s House

If you are divorced, the frustration of the statement, “It’s at Dad’s house”, can make your body tense and your blood boil. It is inevitable when looking for something or when ready to leave for school, sporting events or the long list of activities you are running late for and need that important book, paper to sign, shirt, etc.

What is worse for me to say is, “it’s at my ex-husband’s house”. It feels negative and doesn’t fit Dave; the guy I dated, married, bought multiple houses with, created three children together and continue to remain friends and a part of each other’s families. Conscious uncoupling doesn’t seem to offer any clarity or be the right descriptor either.

What I do know is that Dave is a great Dad and I would be remiss if I glazed over that in this online diary.  Every day we share the responsibility and parent together, but in our own unique way. And that, from what I can see, is creating three incredible people.

From continuing the Christmas tradition and serving up waffles and a big breakfast for my family at his house, to taking the kids to his family’s vacation in Ohio…

Maintaining a fun land of games at his house including the basketball 3-point shooting contest, pool and ping pong tables, go-kart with obstacle courses, trampoline and his award-winning chiros that are a sleep over staple for the kids and their friends.

Working out in the yard and teaching them how to mulch, grow a garden and take care of your home. Overall, he is teaching them through his actions to be kind, good people.

We are both fortunate to have been raised by two great Dad’s and now our kids benefit from what we’ve learned. These two Grandfathers impact the children in their own unique ways too, just as Dave and I do. It does take a village and multiple houses where life takes shape.

Happy Father’s Day, Dave, the two Bobs (Granpdpa and Pop Pop) and all Dad’s today!

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14 Years On Becoming Robbie Wise

14 years ago today, Robert Harrington Guzzio came into this world and I am so amazed at who he is becoming. Happy birthday to my oldest child!

I know most enter into parenthood with the the same blindness, but I didn’t have that maternal instinct and I love my sleep. What to Expect When You’re Expecting gave me a great recipe for oatmeal, but then this guy was staring right back at me and I had no idea what to do next.

Just like the scene from This is Us, actress Mandy Moore talking to her unborn children, I had a few heart to hearts with Robbie before he was born and many times late at night once he arrived. I shared my secret that I didn’t know what I was doing. He looked at me with eyes that saw into my soul, held on tight with his little fingers and let me know it would all be OK.

It wasn’t luck, the book On Becoming Babywise, was a life savor. Through charts, strict instructions and an approach that Dave and I agreed on 100%, we had so much fun that we gave Robbie two siblings!

It isn’t just the two of us that continue to raise this unbelievable kid, it does take a village! From the special bond with Great Granny:

Grandparents, aunts and uncles, cousins and a God Father:

To the friends, teachers and coaches that influence and mentor.

You can never really prepare your mind for raising and child and it continues to evolve.  I will cherish today and every day seeing him turn into an incredible young man!

 

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The Personal Destiny Dog Fight

The thinkers of the ancient world pondered the question of who governed the universe— the gods or destiny? Was the world ruled by reason or by blind necessity? According to Heraclitus, everything depended on destiny, and destiny meant necessity. The essence of destiny was reason, which guided everything. What the, what?

Clearly my personal destiny of running a marathon, selling and buying a new house, parenting three kids and holding down a full time job was not guided by reason. In fact, many told me I was insane. It was a dog fight every day and at last I have crossed the finish line. For now.

Spending 4:08 hours running the the Boston marathon on April 17, I had a lot of time to think about my life. I did not feel the well-earned pride, glory and sense of accomplishment that I dreamed would happen when qualifying for Boston. Was it my dental debacles since December or my socks that were too thick for the temps and had my feet barking like a mad pack of coyotes?

This was the climax to the Marine Corps in 2011, a trail marathon and Philly in 2012, and the coveted qualifying time for Boston in 2015. I should feel like a bad ass mother…f#%^&. Something just wasn’t clicking.

Fast forward and the epic eight days of 2017 began on April 10. Company user conference, Boston marathon and then to top it off, dental surgery! The destiny and necessity stars aligning and I was feeling a little overwhelmed and discombobulated. That bad feeling lingered like the toot someone continued to let loose at the user conference keynote.

My flight home and drive to Boston, surprisingly uneventful. Easter morning I see the kids and I’m not going to lie, it was tough. It all hit me- the guilt. No one needs to cast judgement that I am an absent, bad Mom because I do an excellent job criticizing myself on a daily basis.  Maybe this personal destiny thing shouldn’t be allowed once you are married, employed and / or definitely not when you become a parent?

The next morning, the usual Pig Pen debacles ensue and I barely make it to the starting line. Thought we had a local ‘hot tip’ and would drive up to starting line. No go for Pig Pen. We scrambled, drove up 495 and just make it to the next bus going to the race start. A lady even tried to sick security on me because I was getting on the wrong bus. Deep breath. I headed out at 10:50, it was late, way hotter than the temps I trained in for the last five months and I had a finger on the pulse of this pit in my gut.

The elite female runners break from the starting line in the 2017 Boston Marathon in Hopkinton, Mass., Monday, April 17, 2017. (AP Photo/Mary Schwalm)

The plan was for my family to be somewhere around mile 13 or 14. I gave the kids essentials to hold so I could have a pit stop along the way.  I was nervous after 2013, but having my family there was the best moment of the race! I came up the hill and I spotted my oldest son’s hair.  Happiness that I can’t even begin to explain, but so grateful I have it caught on video. https://youtu.be/gdJo69zLlXE

I had set out to break 3:30:00 and knew as I stopped to drink water every mile I was not even close. Heat stroke was affecting so many runners and I needed to be smart. I needed to be a Mom. I needed to finish strong.

I crossed the finish line, we went right to the car and drove the six hours home.  Stinky with blisters covering my feet, I was snuggled between the kids, talking about the race, listening to them laugh, fight, fart and pretend snore and it was total bliss. The next morning I drove them to school and Evy got out of the car wearing my medal. She said she wanted to show and tell everyone how proud she was of her Mom. Charlie said he will be running the 150th Boston marathon.

We all have our own view of necessities and personal destinies, make it your best and finish strong. I know for me, the next year I aim to be calm and simply better at all aspects of my life. Who knows what new athletic, work or crazy goal I will conjure up after that!

The mystery of life isn’t a problem to solved; it is a reality to be experienced

(Jacobus Johannes Leeuw)

 

 

 

 

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Evster is 9 – Watch out World!

I announced the birthday blog trilogy back on Feb 26, when Charlie turned 11. As I started thinking of what to say about Evy, I realized I wrote a tribute blog, It’s a Girl, to her in 2015. (Sorry boys.) If she ever says she is not spoiled, I have an online record proving otherwise. In any case, happy birthday, Evy!

Nine years later, I am still surprised and even more grateful that I have a daughter who on this day practically delivered herself and is named after her amazing great grandmother, Evelyn Reed, and her great Aunt Margarite Thomas. We all are so incredibly blessed with this child.

The strangest part is that I gave birth to my two oldest sisters morphed into one. The bossiest 9-year-old I ever met. I have so much to learn from this natural born leader:

Be silly

Cherish family near and far

Make your mark on the world

Love all God’s creatures (even brothers)

Know your own special gifts (which may include previous mention of said brothers)

Being the only daughter is so special and a bond for the rest of our lives!

Love and happiness surrounds this girl and everyone who comes in contact with her!

A special birthday wish that this life becomes all that you want it to – but know you are an amazing gift to me every day!

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Chuckle D Licious Turns 11

It recently came to my attention that most of the Kennett Middle School has read my blog. The photo below is what really grabbed the attention of the adolescents and my kids are mortified. Mom job is going pretty, pretty, pretty well!!

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To celebrate the uptick in readers, I will write a blog as a birthday gift to each of my children. Fun fact: the kids birthday are as follows 2/26, 3/27, 4/28, a sign that I should be more orderly! The middle child kicks it off — happy 11th birthday, Charlie!

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Today is so special, and I can’t decide if the best part was the moment I saw him at 12 noon when he arrived into this world in 2006:

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Watching Robbie meet his little brother:

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…or the hoagie my sister, Megan, brought me from Bella Italia that still brings a tear to my eye, it was so delicious! Just kidding my curly-haired, smart, athletic, kind, and wonderful child!

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The title of the Brad Paisley song, I thought I loved You Then, sums up how I feel about my Charles, Chuckie D, Chuckles, Chaz, Charlie Bear, Chuckle D Licious. My heart gets bigger every day watching him grow into an incredible, young man.

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To say I am thankful for the unconditional love he gives back to me and the inspiration to keep improving and be a better person, is an understatement.

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Happy birthday and don’t ever forget who gave you that signature head of nappy roots!!

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Saying Hell No to ‘Bad Moms’ Reality Series

Sometimes you’re just sitting around and you don’t even realize that a dream is about to come true. Other times, you need to make your own destiny. I love the latter of the two as hope is not a strategy!

And that is why I call bullshit on the movie, Bad Moms. Is self-deprivation and 24/7 complaining really an acceptable way to live?  Sure we all could relate and laugh at the antics because she’s overworked, exhausted and ready to snap. Who isn’t at times? We love to join forces with other stressed-out mothers and go wild to get away from daily life and conventional responsibilities. But enough of the divide, judgement and delusional thoughts of easy fixes. (OK, maybe just one drunken scene at the Kennett Giant. Who’s with me?)

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Instead of focusing on how we are bad or constantly missing the mark, maybe try to be a little more bad ass and encourage others to do the same? Personally, November has continuously brought me adventure, milestones and great memories.  A highlight was traveling through Australia and bungee jumping, Thanksgiving Day, circa 1995. That was an amazing gift and definitely a momentous, bad ass day.

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There are other times you work really hard towards a goal and finally the day comes where the rubber meets the road, or your sneakers for 26.2 miles.  I have been so fortunate to run the Philly Marathon the Sunday before Thanksgiving with these bad ass ladies!

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Sure, people love to judge. I was asked questions, in a lovely passive aggressive tone, including how could my parents let me go to another country alone? How could I possibly find time to train for marathons with children? And why did I have children if I was going to continue working full time? If a Hollywood producer was smart, they would create the sequel, Bad Ass Moms. Or maybe we all start celebrating the good in bad ass people!

My own personal belief is to maintain a list of life goals, continue to be passionate, authentic and happy while successfully managing three children, a career and circle of friends and family. Maybe its a learned behavior from my own bad ass Mom, who just spent her 79th birthday traveling around Spain.

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From music, art and to my delight, athletic competition, my kids have taken to the adrenaline rush of truly living.  I couldn’t be prouder of my daughter running a 5K in her sock puppet costume!

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Take it from Pig Pen, if ever you think you’ve created a controllable, predictable life for yourself, you can rest assured that’s an illusion. Nothing stays the same forever, look at the difference six years makes!

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The uncertainty of life sometimes keeps me up at night. With the high sales of sleep aids, I don’t think I am alone. Motivating to change from within, to practice acceptance, live in the moment, and embrace the adventure of living and cheer on those around you, seems to be a better way.  So Happy Thanksgiving, be grateful, and be bad ass!

If you need a soundtrack to get your bad ass, groove back, I highly suggest Meghan Trainor’s song, Me Too!

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The Babysitter Affair – Shit Hits the Garage

I know its shit hits the fan but stay with me on this one. You would think I have used up shit idioms like the shit sandwich, who gives a shit, holy shit, shitty ass, or the shit show but upon further research there are so many I have forgotten about and new ones I will add to my repertoire.

you can put glitter on shit but it still stinks; bull shit, horse shit, chicken shit; can’t remember shit; cling like shit to a shovel; close as stink on shit; colder than shit, hotter than shit; crazier than a shit house rat; crazy shits; day the eagle shits; diddly-shit, doodly-shit; doesn’t know jack-shit; doesn’t know shit from paint; dumb like my shit; dumb shits; eat shit; everything you touch turns to shit; fall in a bucket of shit and come out smelling like a rose; find a place for your shit; find shit; forget shit; get your shit together; give a shit; happier than a pig in shit; have a mountain of shit; in deep shit; in the shit; know one’s shit; like a fly on shit; like a possum eating shit; like stink on shit; like trying to fit ten pounds of shit into a five pound bag; lose shit; lucky shits; money talks and bullshit walks; no shit; quicker than shit through a goose; sell shit; serve shit on a shingle; shit fire and save matches; shit for brains; shit happens; shit or get off the pot; shit out of luck; shit-faced; shitty; shoot the shit; slicker than cat shit on a linoleum floor; slicker than greased owl shit; slow as shit through a tin horn; smoke shit; softer than a sneaker full of shit; sound like shit, look like shit, feel like shit; talks like he has a mouth full of shit; the shit hits the fan; the world goes to shit; throw shit, sling shit, catch shit; up shit creek (without a paddle)

 

My new house has come together and I am feeling settled. The stress still pops up randomly, like the sweet smell of shit here in the mushroom capital of the world, but I am trying to handle it all with grace. For instance, shit overfloweth in my front yard because the lawn guys ran over the sewer cap. After getting a snake in the pipes and a closer look, it was an easy fix. Staying calm as shit.

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Last week, giving into the fact at 44 I can no longer see shit up close, I was at the eye doctor buying bifocals. I receive the following text from my sitter:

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I arrive home to find her front bumper had found its way, less than gently, into my garage door frame. We agree I would deduct the cost of damages to my garage from her wages. Should be about $200, waiting for my handyman to finish the repairs.  Her need to speak to me in private was regarding Evy.  She is difficult to handle.

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You see how nice I was – I told her not to worry, we were putting a discipline plan in place for the Evster and we should touch base and see if she was happy in this job. Truth be told, I started searching for a new sitter. I sensed shit going down.

This  week I received a text one hour prior to picking up my kids at school. To summarize she was respectively resigning, effective immediately, and all of her friends at Starbucks agreed she had more than covered the cost of my garage repairs.

Responsibility at its best, thanks for giving a shit. But hear me people, I am not going to get down on the ‘millennials’ but rather make a difference with the ones that want to be great and build a better reputation for themselves and their generation. I already had plan B in motion and this young man is off to a fantastic start. Based on the fact he made a first day of school t-shirt with his photo on it, has kept the kids busy, has not complained once and parks on the street- I see this as a win.

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Tomorrow is National “Make a difference day”  Stop talking shit and make things better.To celebrate, my pick of the week is Toast Vodka. Love the tag line: To life, to love, to us!

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Still confused that possums are super happy eating shit out of a light socket, but pretty excited I could work that into the blog!

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