Humor · Uncategorized

20 Things About the Maineiac

20 Things About Me That You Might Regret Knowing After You Read This:

  1. I am allergic to every group of antibiotics out there. My doctor tells me I am down to one rarely prescribed antibiotic that I can safely take, so if I contract pneumonia and you don’t hear from me, it’s probably because I’m dead.
  2. I had three cats in my lifetime: Cujo, a gray tabby who was the sweetest, wisest old soul that ever lived, who also went by the nickname Old Man; Conan, a giant orange tabby that loved to swim in puddles; and Lint, a puff ball of rage who used to claw at me for no reason. I’ve also had several dogs, lizards, gerbils, hamsters, birds, guinea pigs, fish, chickens and ducks. I currently have no pets.
  3. I was born severely cross-eyed. As a child, I wore glasses but only for a few years. I kept hiding them under my desk and the teacher finally just gave up trying to find them. To this day if I get tired, my left eye turns in. Very attractive.
  4. I can sing very well. I’m alto, but could even be a tenor, my voice is that deep.
  5. I do celebrity impressions. Back in high school, I was the hit of any party. My favorites: Katherine Hepburn, Rosie Perez, Jimmy Stewart, Cartman from South Park. I can do basically anyone if I study their voice enough. My teachers didn’t appreciate my talent much.
  6. I am a great combination of skeptical and open-minded. I will start out questioning how something works, analyze it to death, then embrace it because I will basically believe anything is possible.
  7. I had a dream about my husband before I met him. Also about my son who was with my late father in a vivid dream. My dad told me he was his grandson, my son. I didn’t get pregnant until years later.
  8. I am deathly afraid of spiders, any size. Also afraid of killing them. I have been known to trap one under a cup and leave the cup on the floor until someone else comes along and is brave enough to scoop it up. Once I held my breath and picked up the cup only to find no spider. Finding no spider is almost as panic-inducing as seeing one.
  9. I once tried out for a solo in chorus in sixth grade and didn’t get it. The song was ‘What a Feeling!’ from Flashdance.
  10. I started writing when I was 10 years old. I wrote and illustrated mysteries starring me and my best friend. The first mystery: The Case of the Missing Legwarmer
  11. I have been thinking about concepts like death and eternity since I was a child. Sometimes I try to grasp what the edge of the universe is, or what this all means, or if we’re really alive or just a figment of one person’s imagination, and my brain short circuits and I sit down and watch a marathon of The Golden Girls to bring myself back down from that ledge of panic. That Sophia sure cracks me up!
  12. I was obsessed with Lost. Still am. Still can’t believe it’s over.
  13. I am very blunt. I’m straight-forward and honest. I will blurt anything out at the most inappropriate times. Usually at the dinner table at holiday family get-togethers. It’s a curse and a blessing. Mostly a curse to everyone else but me.
  14. My earliest memory is riding my Big Wheel down the driveway at four years old eating peanut butter toast with one hand and steering with the other. I crashed and my older brother laughed. My driving skills have improved since then, although I did hit a moose once while I was zipping down a back road going 55 mph in the dark of night.  I hit it from behind so I suppose you could say it was an “ass-on” collision. The car (a tiny Ford Festiva) was totaled, the moose died and I survived with a sore neck and a story of a lifetime. My co-workers made me a cake with a matchbox car and a tiny moose laying on it’s side.  This is Maine, where tragedy can be humorous. It’s how we cope.
  15. I love to be alone. I lived alone for years in my early 20s. I had a little apartment off campus out in Olympia, Washington. I wasn’t scared of being alone at all, after growing up with five brothers, I relished it.  I spent lots of time meditating, reading and talking to my cat. I think of those days fondly even though I am grateful for the family I have now. Still, I can easily see myself as a future crazy old cat lady. (It’s a secret goal of mine.)My husband has never been alone for even one night in his entire life. This mystifies me.
  16. I used to twirl baton for years in middle school. I was the leader once in our Fourth of July parade and dreaded it because we went after the horses, which meant I was the first one in line to have to step over the giant piles of poop. Once I missed and had to keep on marching, horse crap all over my white sneaker the entire parade. I quit baton that year.
  17. The library was my favorite place to go as a child. I would ride my bike there after school to read and read. I loved the smell of the books, the quiet; the feeling that everything that had ever happened in the world was somehow magically there, and every author that came before me was whispering–urging me to open up those books and discover them all.
  18. Sleep is everything to me. I cherish it, I treasure it, I covet it. I look forward to it every single day (usually by 3 pm). I need at least 9 hours of sleep to feel fully rested.  Last night I had about 4 and a half total. Getting old sucks.
  19. I once had a vivid dream where an orchestra was playing the most exquisite, never before heard classical music piece. I woke up, rushed over to write down the notes when suddenly the melodies had been replaced by the theme to Three’s Company.
  20. There is nothing in the world that I hate more than shopping. I must have inherited this trait from my grandmother. She used to rush into a store, grab what she needed and rush back out. I can’t even bring myself to go into the store. I usually opt to sit in the car and read a book while waiting for my husband to do the shopping. He loves to shop. God brought us together for many reasons.


Thanks to MJ Monaghan and his fabulous About page that inspired this post.


Hot Wheels are SO last year, Mom…

Hot Wheels cars
Image via Wikipedia

When I was around 8, I was obsessed with Barbie dolls. I had about ten in my collection, including a long-suffering Ken with the expertly coiffed ‘do and goofy flashy grin (who more often than not, ended up face-down in the toilet, thanks to a run-in with my brother’s GI Joes). Continue reading “Hot Wheels are SO last year, Mom…”


Mr. Clean is on break

Using vinegar for a natural clean
Image by elycefeliz via Flickr

My eight year old son has suddenly realized the value of money. The heavens have parted and a tiny stream of light is shining down on my wallet. Why no, son! Legos don’t grow on trees! So now begins the endless quest to acquire more green; it’s a blessing and a curse. Continue reading “Mr. Clean is on break”

Humor · Motherhood

Quick, Mom! Run and hide!

DILO - women bathroom sign
Image by DogFromSPACE via Flickr

Moms, I’m going to be honest with you. There are some days when my dear, sweet, lovely children have driven me to the point of my head imploding.  When they have whined the 1,237th “Mommy!” and have managed to have about 35 mini-tragedies in nine minutes (“He took my Polly Pocket and tried to flush her down the toilet!” “She ripped all the wheels off my favorite hot wheels and is now trying to eat them!”). We all have those days.

But fear not.

There is one place a mom can go to get away from it all:

The bathroom.

My sanctuary.  My domain. My sweet escape.

The kids and hubby may think I’m in there taking a shower or plucking my brows. But what I’m really doing is trying to hang onto that last shred of sanity I have left.

After many years of attempting this escape, there are a few things I’ve learned.

First and foremost rule: Lock the door. This is extremely important. Do this the split second you rush in there. But here’s the key: try to do this quietly. Because if little ears have any inkling you are in there, the jig is up.

If they do notice you are in the bathroom (correction: when they notice) you must take evasive action as quickly as possible. Turn on the fan. This will help drown out the inevitable knocking and pleading outside the door (mostly from my husband who has spent a grand total of 5 minutes dealing with the kids on his own).

Okay, now the door is locked. You’ve made it. You’re safe. You are officially in a room that is separate from your loved ones. It’s an exhilarating feeling, I know.  You are alone and no one can come in (barring using a screwdriver to take the hinges off the door, which my son once informed me he was going to attempt).

You are now leaning against the door, breathing huge sighs, trying to regain your composure. For a brief second you may even remember the “old you”, the one who had two seconds to form a complete thought…remember her? No, me neither. Sadly, this feeling is fleeting.  So what do you do now with this glorious alone time?

Any mom knows that you need a bathroom survival kit. You need supplies that will enable you to spend as much time in there as humanly possible. Spending it actually doing bathroom type things is not an option. You have to clear your head. Keep it together. Your very soul is on the line here, woman!

Find a place to rest.  Naturally the toilet is a good spot. Close the lid ever so quietly and plunk your tired butt down for a second. Go ahead, Mom. It’s okay. You deserve it. Sit there and breathe. Close your eyes and utter “Serenity Now” over and over until you actually believe it. It worked for Kramer.

Next, grab something to read. I like to have plenty of guilty pleasure trashy magazines on hand. I keep a stack of Good Housekeeping, People, Ladies’ Home Journal, maybe even the occasional Cosmo. For those rare times that I manage to slip into my sanctuary unnoticed, I try to have my favorite book on hand. Or maybe even stash your iPad under the towels. Think of all the things you can accomplish surfing the net sitting on your cozy fuzzy pink toilet seat.

If kids/hubby are inexplicably fascinated with your bathroom excursion and are suddenly outside the door acting like Armageddon is just around the corner, you might need to actually turn the shower on for a minute and run a little water. This might buy you another few minutes.

If they persist and the whining grows louder, I occasionally have to resort to yelling out: “I’m BUSY!!!!” I am usually surprised at how irritated I sound when I yell out these words. It comes out as a growl most times, but I try not to let on that my loved ones are slowly stripping away layers of my sanity.

After my growl, there is always a moment of stunned silence behind the door. So I’ll add a meek and sweet comment like “just a second, okay? I’ll be right out!” to lighten the mood. We don’t want our family thinking Mom is thisclose to cracking now do we? Keep the illusion alive.

And then I sit there in silence at least another five minutes, flipping through my People, reading about Angelina Jolie and her kids. That woman has it so easy.

I bet she has at least five or six bathrooms to hide in.

Humor · Motherhood

Moms Say the Darndest Things

chuck e cheese
Come with me Mom and Dad as I take you on the expressway to Crazy Town!Image by pinprick via Flickr

Sometimes I talk too much. Okay, I talk too much most of the time. My husband can painfully attest to that fact. I had laryngitis last fall and could barely get out a whisper. I had never seen my husband so happy.

And there are certain things a mom knows to never say if little kids are within a mile of earshot. Not swear words or anything beyond PG-rated (that goes without saying) but those innocent phrases that once a mom lets them loose, they flow out into the universe, never to be taken back again. And mommy pays for these words. Oh, yes, she pays dearly. Continue reading “Moms Say the Darndest Things”

Humor · inspiration

Yoga Love


Back when I didn’t know a thing about yoga, just the word itself would conjure up images in my mind. Mostly of New Age-y people wearing chakra jewelry and chanting Om while twisting themselves into pretzels. Continue reading “Yoga Love”


Resolutions for Slackers

New Year's Resolutions postcard
Image via Wikipedia

One of my friends had a brilliant idea (go, Debra!) She said that this year, she was giving herself a fighting chance at New Year’s resolutions. She would set the bar much lower, making damn sure she couldn’t fail.  As a matter of fact, she had already succeeded at most of her goals.

I immediately loved this idea of brutal honesty with a touch of stark truth. Two things this stubborn Mainer is all about. Besides, it’s a rare win-win situation for a perpetual loser. Continue reading “Resolutions for Slackers”


The Best Christmas Ever

The holidays are upon us once again, arriving in my world at warp speed. Wasn’t Christmas just last week? And along with the endless barrage of Christmas commercials, so begins an acute and incurable state of “gimme-itis”.

Whenever the kids see a commercial for the latest fad toy or electronic gadget and yell, “I want that, Mom!” I heave a huge sigh, hug them and tell them the same thing. Continue reading “The Best Christmas Ever”

Humor · Motherhood

This is How We Roll

Red Ball at Underpass
Image by kendoman26 via Flickr

As much as I try not to, I am constantly comparing my daughter to my son. Not in a negative or positive way, mind you. Just in a factual “Hmm…she is the complete opposite of her brother!” way. I often find it hard to believe they are related. Continue reading “This is How We Roll”


The Long and the Short of It

Hair Cutting Scissors
Image via Wikipedia
Women seem to identify themselves by their hairstyle. Or, in my case, complete lack of style. I’ve had the same boring, long, brown, thick-as-a-rat’s-nest hair for my entire life. Well, aside from the late 70s, when my mom sent me out into the big bad world looking like a cross between Dorothy Hamill and Justin Bieber on a bad hair day. Not sure I ever recovered from that one.

Which is one huge reason I feel more secure with long hair. Or did. I chopped it all off, seven plus inches, just last month. After the 10 plus pounds of hair was removed from my head, the hairdresser felt compelled to hold up the dustpan, the mountain of frizz spilling over the sides, and yell “Look at all that hair, Darla! GONE!”

Yeah, I miss it. My hair was like my cozy security blanket. Something to hide behind. Or maybe just to keep me warm in these brutal Maine winters. Granted, about 99% of the time it was pulled back into a frumpy ponytail…but it was there when I needed it.

Now I instinctively reach back there and grab nothing but air. I look in the mirror and I see the “Mommy cut” glaring back at me, snickering and taunting, “Nah-nah naaaah, nah-naaah nah! Face it, you’re turning into your mom! Soon your style will be nothing more than short perms and bifocals.”

Am I giving up by caving into the Mommy Cut? Having short hair does cut down on maintenance and all the money spent on shampoo and conditioner. There is a freedom there that the lazy side of me absolutely adores. Now I can actually wake up, get outta bed and drag a comb across my head (love that song) and be done with it.

Or am I just being realistic? I am a Mommy after all. I drive a minivan (sadly, no Swagger Wagon for me, but a Loser Cruiser) and I happily go to bed at 9:30 pm. I’m at the point where I’m almost able to embrace those deep wrinkles and stray gray hairs that seem to be multiplying about as fast as the Duggar family. Maybe this haircut is me trying to prove to the world, (and admit to myself) that yes, I am middle aged, dammit! I can’t hide it anymore.

But do I want to feel middle aged just yet? Well, I do want a fresh start. There’s something about turning forty that makes me want to start over with a new chapter in my life, a new me. Shed the old me along with the hair. When I had my hair cut, it felt like I was saying to the world, I don’t give a crap, it’s time for me now! Me, me, me! The brand-new, take-charge, totally out-there “me”!

Sigh. No worries….as everyone tells me, it’ll always grow back. Whew! Thank goodness for that. Us middle-aged moms like to keep our options open. Maybe next year, the Pixie cut?