There’s nothing better than spending time with people who “get” you. Flaws and all. Women who make you laugh until you snort. And let you vent when you just need to get it out.

I’m so honored to have these kinds of friends, old AND new.

The women involved in Listen to Your Mother Providence may be “new” people in my life, but the connection we’ve made as part of this national reading series that takes place on May 4 feels like we’ve been friends for a long time.

Listen to Your Mother Providence takes place May 4 at 2 p.m. at the Providence Public Library.

I’m honored and humbled to be part of the inaugural Listen to Your Mother Providence show, an event taking place in 24 cities across the country that gives Mother’s Day a microphone. These women are so talented. So creative. And one of my sayings (especially since becoming a mother) is: “Girls may compete with one another, but women EMPOWER one another”. As far as this cast is concerned, it couldn’t be more true! This “empowerment” is clearly shown by the women behind the local show. Women I’m so grateful to have in my life, LTYM Providence co-producers and co-directors, moms and bloggers, Carla Molina Martins www.allofmenow.com and Laura Rossi Totten, www.laurarossipublicrelations.com.

I invite you to read my latest Ask Mom OnlineRI.com column to learn more about Listen to Your Mother, which takes place Saturday, May 4 at 2 p.m. at the historical Providence Public Library Auditorium. Tickets are still available and all the links are available here: OnlineRI.com Ask Mom

Join us in celebrating Mother’s Day a little early, in a new and “empowering” way!

Some dear friends and relatives have informed me that I need to not be afraid to toot my own horn. It’s hard when you do pr for others and then you have to talk about YOURSELF. (When all I really want to do is vent about mommy stuff, like the crack problem that emerges every time I bend down in my jeans. I know you know what I’m talkin’ about.) I’d like to mention that these wonderful friends and family members hardly ever go on Facebook, Twitter or LinkedIn. They don’t live under a rock, they’re just a little anti-social media. I still love them dearly…they just never see my Tweets. 😉

OKAY. So here it goes:

– An Award? You know how Ben Stiller’s parents in Meet the Fockers kept his 13th place ribbons and awards? I actually won something for real(z)! And it’s not 13th place! IT’S FIRST PLACE! No way? WAY! My book, How to Spread Sanity on a Cracker, took home a FIRST PLACE AWARD in the 2013 Great Southeast Book Festival! Woot Woot. Or Toot toot! Yes, I was very shocked, and very excited. I celebrated with a bowl of Hershey’s kisses and a couple Coronas. 

– Thursday, April 25 – I’m joining an array of local authors at Barnes & Noble in Warwick for a LOCAL AUTHORS Night! If you want to meet 12 authors in one place, you NEED to stop by! It starts at 6 p.m.! More details here!

– Saturday, May 4 – I’m honored to announce that I’m part of the Listen to Your Mother Providence cast. It’s a show, but not really. Because it’s a reading. Think Vagina Monologues without celebrities…and without the word “vaginas”. It’s a national reading series that gives Mother’s Day a microphone. Listen to Your Mother is featured in 24 cities across the country. I’ll be writing about it more soon. I’m honored that I made the cast for Providence’s inaugural show, May 4 at 2 p.m. at the Providence Public Library. I’m shocked, humbled and floored to be a part of this amazing cast. All I can say is bring a box of tissues and wear a mini-pad. You’ll be laughing and crying, laughing and crying for 90 minutes. More details and ticket info here!

I can’t believe it, but today my baby, my youngest, turns NINE.

Not 9 weeks or 9 months. But NINE years old. How can it be? Yesterday, she weighed less than 8 pounds. She was just a bun in the oven when we moved here. And now she’s almost as tall as my mother-in-law. (A sweet, petite thing, but still!) OK, so she may choose fancy T-shirts over Fancy Nancy sticker books, soccer balls over Sponge Bob and she may not suck her thumb any more. But she’s still my youngest.

Thankfully, she still likes her mother. (When she’s not getting a talking-to.) As long as I’m not dancing to Madonna or doing football cheers in front of her, she still likes her mom. But, my baby is growing up. And it’s wonderful and worrisome all at the same time. (I’m going to have a tough time when she turns 13, let me tell ya.) I’m so proud of my girl. She’s independent, funny and strong. But I’m having a really hard time seeing her get so big so fast. Happy number 9, S!

I was away in Maine celebrating my birthday on Marathon Monday. My family and I rented a house with friends. We were all smiles, spending time with our children, our friends and their children. The sun was shining. We went on a hike. Ate together. Laughed together. Then mid-afternoon, my husband checked his phone. I could tell from the look on his face it was bad. Then more devastating reports about explosions at the Boston Marathon finish line started pouring in.

I am still in shock. Shocked that something like this could happen. Shocked that innocent people were injured. That three people died, including a child the same age as one of my own.

I almost feel guilty that no one we knew was hurt. That friends of ours left before the explosions went off. That I was busy celebrating something as trivial as a birthday. That I had worked at the Boston Marathon…right at the finish line… years ago. Then I learned that friends of friends were injured. Severely injured. And more lives were changed. These were people like us. People whose lives will never be the same. People who will forever be affected by this horrific event.

Challenged Athletes Foundation.

I think we’re all changed forever. No matter where you live. No matter where you were when it happened. You can see it in people’s eyes. That familiar look of disbelief. Fear. Shock.

We chose to turn off the TV most of the time while we were away. We wanted to protect our kids. But we checked our phones, our laptops, and tuned in at night.

All I could think about throughout the week was an amazing organization that I worked with years ago called The Challenged Athletes Foundation® (CAF). I got to know leaders and athletes from CAF when I was the PR Manager for global running company, Brooks. I had the honor of working with athletes who defied the odds and then some. CAF is a world leader in inspiring individuals with physical challenges to get involved – and stay involved – in sports.

I saw men and women with one leg, one arm, walk, run and win races. I learned about their stories, their lives, the limbs they lost and the records they broke.

Although I haven’t worked with CAF in years, their mission has never left my heart. Especially now, knowing that there are so many at the finish line, from athletes to spectators, who are on a long road to recovery. For those injured and their families, I hope that they realize that there is light at the end of the tunnel. Although healing will take time, there is hope. Especially with organizations like CAF, I strongly believe that one day, we will see them run again.

You know the drill. You wake up, make breakfast, rinse the dishes and run the dishwasher. Everything is all fantabulous. Until ”new” dirty dishes start forming in the sink. A dirty mug is discovered by your dog under the recliner. Your son pulls three drink bottles from the bottom of his backpack and your daughter finds a spoon under her bed. Great. More dishes.

But, I can’t possibly put these recently discovered dirty dishes in the dishwasher. Oh no. It’s an unwritten rule that after the dishwasher (that was so on sale that it sounds like a helicopter landing in your kitchen) has been running for 31 minutes, it’s too late. If you dare put the new dirty dishes in the already-running dishwasher, you might ruin the entire wash. Not to mention fogging up your glasses and accidentally tripping over your dog. Not on morning mommy brain.

Just the other morning, I took one look at the clock and panicked. A quick sniff under my tank top and I realized I REALLY needed a shower. The “new” dishes were left in the sink and starting to really pile up. But the dishwasher was running. So I decided to ignore them and get on with my day.

Like a mosquito buzzing around my ear, that pile of dishes annoyed me all day. Haunted me.

After dropping off the kids and running 10 errands, I saw even more “new” dirty dishes pile up. But I honestly didn’t have time to empty the dishwasher. I had to run out again.

I wrote a reminder on my iPhone (to myself) to get to the dishes done as soon as I got home.

I taxied the kids to school, worked, sent 27 emails, two conference calls, visited my grandmother who just got out of the hospital, bought all of my daughter’s birthday gifts, ran another two errands, came home. Worked some more. Shot baskets with my son.

I got distracted and caught up in something else. Then I had to pick up the kids again. Vacuumed. Served dinner. Signed homework. Answered emails.

When the kitchen was empty and I couldn’t take it anymore, I finally decided to do the dishes.

Had to let the dog out first. Then rinsed the dishes again.

I spent more than seven hours thinking about that piled high sink of dishes.

It took me less than 7 minutes and 30 seconds to empty the dishwasher and put the “new” dirty dishes in the dishwasher.

Twelve years ago today, something happened that changed my life forever. Although I have a tendency to over-share with other moms about what went on that long day and night in Seattle so many years ago, today is not about me. It’s about him. A healthy boy with wide, blue eyes and a big smile. My first born. He’s not so little anymore. But he’s a great kid. A true tween with a quick sense of humor. I’m so proud to be his mom. Happy birthday, C! I can’t believe you’re 12!

I received a small package in the mail last week and it made me grin from ear to ear. Surprisingly, it was NOT a pound of chocolate. It was NOT an airline ticket. And although it was an adorable shade of blue, it was NOT a new pair of spring sandals.

IT IS an all-new book written by my friend and fellow author, Jill Smokler. After the kids went to bed, I pulled a bottle of beer from the fridge, ripped open the box and devoured Motherhood Comes Naturally: And Other Vicious Lies in a matter of hours. Like having drinks with a childhood friend, this book makes you nod in agreement and cackle out loud. This little blue book by Jill Smokler single-handedly debunks more than 20 myths about motherhood, giving you what few others will dare: The truth. With enough Scary Mommy sarcasm sprinkled in to keep you laughing.

From the New York Times best-selling author of Confessions of a Scary Mommy and the popular blog ScaryMommy.com, Jill has written a hilarious new essay collection that exposes the “vicious lies” that every parent is told.

Newly pregnant and scared out of her mind, Jill Smokler lay on her gynecologist’s examination table and was told the biggest lie she’d ever heard in her life: “Motherhood is the most natural thing in the world.”

Instead of quelling her nerves like that well intentioned nurse hoped to, Jill was instead set up for future of questioning exactly what DNA strand she was missing that made the whole motherhood experience feel less than natural to her. Wonderful? Yes. Miraculous? Of course. Worthwhile? Without a doubt. But natural? Not so much.

All I can say is, you need to read this book.

If you wish you could give a eulogy to your pre-baby body…you need to lock yourself in your room and read this book.

If you wish someone would come out and say what’s really on their mind without fear of being de-friended by every mother you know on Facebook…. you need to lock yourself in your room and read this book.

If your children are driving you crazy and you wouldn’t dare drown your stresses away in a Betty Draper-style mid-day Martini….you need to lock yourself in your room and read this book.

God bless this woman, I promise you will giggle yourself to sleep, thanking her for writing out loud (and in her familiar Scary Mommy way) what many moms really think but are too afraid to admit.

Warning – this book is not appropriate for children or mothers who lack a sense of humor.

Order your copy here! http://www.amazon.com/Motherhood-Comes-Naturally-Other-Vicious/dp/1476728348

* I received a copy of this book for review purposes. But my opinions are 100% my own!

As many of you know, I like to whine and unwind when possible. Sitting and gabbing with the girls is one of my specialties. (Something I inherited from both of my precious grandmothers.) I’m honored that the “sitting” part will come in handy this weekend. Why, you ask? Because I’ll be joining fellow members of Rhody Bloggers for Good for a cause that’s close to my heart. We will be taking turns sitting on La-Z-Boy furniture in Warwick to help raise money for a special little girl named Belle who was recently diagnosed with Leukemia.

Hosting a Sit-a-Thon is our way of taking a stand for this little girl. You see, Belle is the adorable two-and-a-half year old daughter of our friend and fellow blogger, Melissa Bradley. She means so much to us. All money raised will help off-set medical expenses for Belle and her family. For more details, visit http://rhodybloggersforgood.com/2013/04/05/it-takes-a-village-sit4belle/

The Sit-a-Thon for Belle takes place at the La-Z-Boy on Bald Hill Road in Warwick April 5, 6 and 7. The fun starts tonight at 6 p.m.

Belle Bradley, photographed by Heidi Hope

This is Belle’s story in her mother’s words. Be prepared. It will rock you to the core. http://rhodybloggersforgood.com/2013/02/21/meet-belle/

If you don’t have time to stop by, you can still give:http://www.youcaring.com/medical-fundraiser/sit-a-thon-for-belle/41549

Thank you so much for helping us take a stand for this special girl. We love you, Belle!

In true retail therapy fashion, I used to buy new Easter dresses for me and my daughter. (Almost every Easter.) Even if it was from a fancy consignment store. Not this year. She is turning 9 soon. Nine going on 29, lord help me. She tells me, in a matter of fact way, “Mom, this Easter, I really want to use what I already have.” I translate this into “shopping her closet” in a sort of Punky Brewster-meets-Pippa flair. So I decide to do the same and use what I already have too. It’s the smartest thing, and I love my daughter for being so practical.

Only I forgot to “shop my closet” the night before Easter. And I forgot to do it before getting in the shower Easter morning too.

So there I was, 32 minutes before we’re leaving for my mother-in-law’s. I’m standing there, in a robe, in front of my eclectic array of New England not quite spring drab wintery wardrobe, trying desperately to find something Eastery to wear. A dress or skirt-and-blouse combo that fit this criteria: 1) something that’s not black; 2) something that’s not grey, dark grey or brown; 3) something that fits me and my new layers of back fat; 4) something that looks more Eastery than The Office.  I had 27 minutes to spare before leaving for a family brunch. I stood there, in Jackie panic-mode, digging in the trenches to find the right outfit for the occasion.

That dress is grey. No. That cotton faux-Lilly dress is a fun shade of green and very summery, but it only fits if I don’t eat bread for five days. Too late, as I had just  polished off a “guilt-free-because-it’s-a-holiday” cinnamon bun. The multi-colored wrap dress actually LOOKS like an Easter egg. No flipping way.  I love the plum wrap dress, but I’ve worn it 50 times in the last year and even I’m getting sick of it.

Wait, I think I found it.  The hot pink sleeveless cotton dress that I bought two years ago from White House, Black Market. It’s still on a hanger! Waiting for me to wear! It was literally the only item in the store that wasn’t black and white. And it has pockets. And room for me to eat a chocolate bunny… or 12.

I pull it on. It fits. And it looks totally appropriate. Except it hits right above the knee and my fresh-from-winter-thanks-to-Punxsutawney Phil-legs are a shade lighter than milk. (Only a good thing if you’re Snow White). I slather myself in Jergen’s sunless tanning lotion. Mix it up with some tinted moisturizer. Cover a bruise on my shin and a bug bite on my calf with it too. Where did that zit come from? Cover that too. I think I’m a tad darker than an albino at this point. That’ll do.

So I spend a fun holiday with my husband’s family all dressed up in my new-fangled Easter Sunday attire. We eat, giggle as a family, hunt for Easter eggs, gab, play in the yard, and eat some more. I eat enough veggies to make up for all the mini Lindt Easter eggs I consume.

You think I had one picture of myself to show proof that I got all dressed up? No. See, that would make too much sense. Like every mom in America, I was the one behind the camera. I was the one taking pictures all day. And the dress? It’s lying lifeless in the hamper, hoping to be used again before the year 2017.