“I don’t think I want my play kitchen anymore,” my daughter announced while we spring-cleaned the basement the other day.

I had to leave the room to collect my thoughts. (And weep quietly in the bathroom.)

I may be walking around with a smile on my face this week, but I cry a little inside every time I think of that moment. Not just because of the dreary weather (well, maybe) or my erratic hormones (well, that too), but because I’m realizing that my little girl isn’t so little anymore.

She couldn’t mean the plastic gourmet play kitchen that she used to “slave over” when she was a toddler? The one with a “working” stovetop, beeping microwave, faux hardwood floor and other cute mini-gourmet-culinary accessories?

It couldn’t be.

I still want to play in that kitchen.

How could she NOT want to play in it anymore?

The fact that this mini-kitchen is nicer than any kitchen I’ve ever owned is beyond the point. Or the fact that if I sketched a Randy-to-the-Rescue blue print of my dream kitchen, you’d pretty much see THIS KITCHEN.. in white. And the fact that I’ve actually pretended to make bacon and eggs on the stovetop that makes an unbelievably cool boiling noise and brew a pot of coffee in the pretend coffee maker that actually sounds like a real coffee maker is also beyond the point.

What kills me… is that my daughter getting rid of this play kitchen symbolizes the beginning of a new phase.

The pre-tween years.

I realize my baby is growing up. But she’s 9.

Can’t she hold onto it a little longer?

My best friend and I played house…until we were WAY too old to play house.

We actually turned her mom’s garage into an imaginary world – we transformed half of it into an apartment and the other into a school. We were like Janet and Chrissie Snow without Jack, but we were teachers in Clear Lake City. We would play school for hours and then go back to our “apartment” while listening to the Go Go’s and Foreigner. And, yes, our older siblings and their friends totally made fun of us for playing pretend straight through fifth grade. They still do, to this day.

But we couldn’t help it. We were kids. And it was fun.

It’s not that I don’t want my daughter to grow up. I want her to grow up and be everything she wants to be in life.

I just want the growing up part to slow down a little.

I should be thankful that she still likes to play dress up. She still plays with her American Girl Dolls. (I no longer have to take care of them while she’s at school.) But she doesn’t want the kitchen anymore.

What if we remodeled it? Maybe THAT would change her mind? Re-vamping the cabinets and re-finishing the faux hardwoods?

I’m all about ringing in the New Year in style. I mean, we stayed in and watched New Year’s Rockin’ Eve on TV and kissed when the clock struck midnight. The next morning, we cheered on my husband as he took the Penguin Plunge! But as far as New Year’s Resolutions, this year, I’m just saying NO. I’ve had it with all the “New Year, New You” guilt. I work out…and eat dessert. So shoot me. I’ve decided this year, to do away with New Year’s Resolutions. I’ve resolved to be at peace with myself. Yes, this year, it’s all about accepting myself and all my imperfections. (I’m enjoying a handful of semi-sweet morsels right now, in case you’re wondering, but I did work out this morning.) So far, I’m loving every minute of my decision! Check out my latest AskMom OnlineRI.com column to see why you should too! https://onlineri.com/articles/ask_mom

From my house to yours, wishing you a very Merry Christmas and a happy and healthy new year! – Jackie

I’m so excited, I think I might tinkle in my JEANS! My post, Confession: I Wear Mom Jeans is featured on BLUNTMoms! Check it out and please, tell me if YOUR jeans will soon be considered (oh, the horr-ah, dare I say it)… MOM JEANS! Enjoy and THANK YOU for all your support! http://www.bluntmoms.com/

I’m addicted to my blog.

And social media.

Checking my iPhone.

And staying in touch with you here.

I might as well face it, I’m Addicted (to blogging).

Addicted to..blogging

In case you are NOT familiar with the lyrics to Robert Palmer’s 1985 song, “Addicted to Love,” because you were born in 1990-something, please do me a favor and leave the room for a minute. Just step away from the screen for five seconds so I can collect my thoughts. Or go eat something with refined sugar. Or something fried. Your youth and fast metabolism are making me feel antiquated. And wrinkly. Allow me to back up a minute. I have tried for two weeks now to NOT BLOG and just free-write. Which is why I’m admitting that I’m ADDICTED.

I’m trying really hard to take the advice of my friend and writing coach, Hannah. I adore her. She is right. She gets me. She understands my insane writing process. My need to multi-task while simultaneously writing everything I’m thinking. And sneak semi-sweet chocolate chip morsels from the pantry in order to keep writing.

We both share a love for whipped cream. Extra whipped cream on any hot beverage, from tea to steamed milk and beyond. It helps keep the stream of consciousness flowing.

She knows what I need right now, which is to LAY OFF MY BLOG and just FREE WRITE for a bit.

I know I need some time off. (To take my own advice, from the OnlineRI.com post, Digital Detox. Hello, I need to follow these steps right now, big time.)

I have been so busy with other pr and writing deadlines, I decided to take a little break from writing and updating my blog. But, like any mother trying to do something good for herself, there is guilt attached to it.

So, in case you think I’ve vanished. That I don’t care. That I stopped blogging for good. Just realize I’m in this for the long haul. I’m just taking a “little break.” (Think Ross from Friends, “We were on a little break”.) I’m not breaking up from my blog. I’m just trying to get some other stuff done. I’ll be here. And in the meantime, feel free to stay in touch with me here or here too. XO

Halloween candy is 75% off. Jack-o-lanterns have been demolished by squirrels. Thanksgiving is around the corner and CHRISTMAS DECORATIONS ARE UP everywhere you go. Oh, the holidays are coming.

‘Tis the season for a lot of wondrous things. Family. Gratitude. Giving….AND STRESS.

WHAT’S a mom to do who gets stressed out this time of year? Every year? Check out my latest AskMom OnlineRI.com column for holiday sanity saving tips – here! https://onlineri.com/articles/ask_mom

Admit it. You’re beginning to LIKE some of the stuff your kids watch. You have no choice sometimes, right?

You may find this hard to believe, but my youngest child never watched TV until he was almost two years old.

Yes, we tried to create a perfect, TV-free baby that never ate sweets. Now, we knew deep down, that we were full of cow poo. Our hopes and dreams were a little far-fetched. I mean, we all need a little entertainment in life, right? Our unrealistic parenting ideals changed the day his sweet, Pixar-loving uncle gave him a brand new DVD of Monsters Inc. I’m talking about the 2002 version, people. Old school Pixar. (We didn’t even have a DVD machine, and had to play it on our computer! The horror!) 😉 He watched the bright digital “moving picture” and wanted more. MORE! “Again, mommy, again!” That single DVD was like crack to my little man. He watched that *(&(*^&*^*&^ movie AGAIN and AGAIN. And he was hooked on good movies forever. (And so were we.) Well, GOOD movies and shows. My family now giggles at ME while I watch Chicken Little as I’m literally cackling out loud (and doing a little dance). I do the same thing when I watch The Incredibles. (And for the record, I’ve been waiting more than 10 years for the sequel.)

Now, I can’t stand some of the TV shows they watch. And yes, they do other things. But at least family movie time is something I look forward to!

Did you “know” you were having a boy or a girl?

Some women just KNOW.

I have to admit, I KNEW. I did. Thirteen years ago, when I was pregnant with my first child, I KNEW I was having a boy. I’m totally serious! I was about nine weeks along when I had a dream that my husband was holding a blond, blue-eyed boy. I woke up, and KNEW! And when we found out the sex of the baby several weeks later, he was shocked.  But I wasn’t! I already had tiny blue baby shoes and hats on my mind!

Three years later, in 2003, I dreamed that I was having a girl. And guess what? I was right on again!

Crazy? Pregnancy hormones gone nutty? Or maybe it was mother’s intuition.

Some moms, like my friend Jane, just KNOW! (She just found out the sex of her baby a few days ago and she was totally right! A boy! Congratulations!) 

I know we all have more important things to worry about than ponder who wore what dress to the Emmy’s. But I can’t lie and say I haven’t scoured the pages of People and US Weekly at the check-out line to find out who made the “Best” and “Worst” Dressed lists. A couple years ago, I unintentionally ripped a few pages trying to see what Jennifer Garner wore.  Not a proud moment as my daughter was helping me put the groceries on the conveyor belt.

(I once DVR’d the Oscar’s JUST to watch Reese Witherspoon’s acceptance speech and as soon as they announced “And the Oscar for Best Actress goes to…” it cut off the recording. I was so frustrated, I haven’t watched an entire awards show since.)

So, yes, I’ve had my fanatical moments.

But thanks to social media, I don’t have to watch the shows from beginning to end anymore. I didn’t even have to wait to see who wore what this year. Those posts about Heidi Klum’s dress were rolling in so fast , I didn’t even have to LOOK for them. In my opinion, she’s so gorgeous, the woman could wear a paper bag and make it look fabulous.

I have to admit, aside from wishing I had even half of their shoes, I feel sorry for some of these actresses. When you really think about it, if you were going to a glamorous event and you had to choose a dress that’s either already in your closet or given to you by a creative designer friend, what would you wear?

What would you wear?

Probably something black, right?

And maybe play it up with a necklace that’s NOT made out of real diamonds?

And pair it with Spanx and peep toes?

Am I right?

I have two or three dresses that I wear to events all the time. I am constantly recycling them. And I’ve owned them for probably five years. One highlights my arm dangle and the others HAVE to be worn with Spanx or else I look like a character from Mama’s Family. I’m incredibly thankful that I’ve never been invited to a Hollywood event or else I’d be frantically choosing something with not enough color or bling. (My girlfriend graciously let me borrow her dress when I went to the Give and Glam in Newport this summer. I loved it and the price was great! And my fellow author friends Elyse Major (middle) and Jennifer Leal (left) looked lovely in their ensembles!;))

I borrowed this dress (far right) from a dear friend when I joined my friends and fellow authors at the Give & Glam event in June!

But let’s take a moment and put ourselves in these actresses’ shoes. (Oh, how heavenly. I take size 9 medium, thank you.)

They picked out a fancy dress.

They put on their Spanx.

They had their hair done.

They loaded up on eye shadow.

They grabbed a cute clutch.

And they walked out the door feeling confident and pretty.

And then they are bombarded with cameras. In a flash, other people decide that their dress, their hair, their entire ensemble is either hideous or high-fashion.

One moment they are in, they next, they are out.

It’s awful if you really think about it.

I’m just so glad there are no judges waiting for me on the soccer field, at PTO meetings, at the grocery store, or cross country meets.

Wait – there are.

There are judgy moms everywhere.

All I’m saying is, before you pass judgment on these actresses, or anyone else, take a look in the mirror.