Do you compare yourself to other moms? Check out my Ask Mom OnlineRI column to read why it’s time for you to stop the mommy madness!

We all accidentally swear in front of our kids. You’ve done it. I’ve done it.

We all do it.

Shoot happens. But I will say, through the years, I’ve tried relentlessly to use substitute swear words in front of my kids. Unfortunately, when something happens that’s out of my control……I panic. I forget. I temporarily lose “mommy” control. And although I want the oh-so-satisfying profanities to release themselves into the wild, I catch myself. And I try NOT to say THAT eff-in WORD at the last minute.

For example:

* When I ran downstairs recently, took one wretched whiff and realized my dog had gone #2 loosely all over the family room rug, my kids heard me scream, then shout, “SHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

HHHHHHHHHHHHHHhhhhh

UUUUUUUGGGGAR.”

* When I burned myself on my daughter’s cute mini cupcake maker, (which I swear was modeled after Arrested Development’s illegal-in-the-U.S. Cornballer machine) my kids might hear: “HOOOOOOOOOOLLLLLLLL

LLYYYYYYYY

SHHHHHHHHH

HHHHHuuuugar” spew out of my mouth.

* When I hit my elbow (for the umpteenth time) on the corner of the kitchen counter, all they hear is:

“Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuu

uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu

uuuuuddddge.”

These words are incredibly lame. I know this. But they must be used….most of the time at least. Or else my children would think their mother is indeed a sailor.

Other favorite phrases in my house that my grandmother frowns at, but I think are passable for good parenting?

– “For the love of…… Christmas”

– “Dang it”

– “Jinkies”(Courtesy of Scooby Doo!)

– “Beetle juice”

– “Flippin'”

– “O M Goodness”

– “Mother of Pearl”

– “Praise Jeebus” (thanks to Homer Simpson)

– “Fahrvergnügen”

– “Holy Tamale”

– And my personal favorite…”Son of a……”

I’m not an idiot. I know my kids don’t live under a rock. I get that they recognize REAL swear words. They watch PG and PG-13 movies (from the 1980’s, mind you) sometimes. It’s all about the ear-muffs, right? When they hear a bad word, my husband and I will warn them, “Ear-muff it, kids. If you accidentally hear it, NEVER use that word”. And they jokingly cover their ears. (Foot note: This method of parenting is courtesy of Vince Vaughn’s role in the movie Old School, thank you very much.)

But as long as I am their mother, I will keep trying! Gosh help me, I will keep trying.

For the record, when my daughter started talking, she had a difficult time putting T and R together. As you may have guessed, almost everything beginning with T or TH winds up sounding like F. This is not a good thing for a variety of reasons. Every time she would see a fire truck, my youngest child would shout out the F word, (and I’m not talking about flippin) repeatedly, for everyone to hear. And all my substitute phrases, along with my mommy pride, would fly out the window. Son of a, holy, for the love of…Mother of PEARL!!

Attention Rhode Islanders: What happens if you use Del’s for something BESIDES frozen lemonade? Drawing a blank? Then you should check out this new book by two local ladies, Rhode Island Recipes! My copy just arrived in the mail and I’m so excited! My friend and fellow Rhody Blogger, Jennifer Leal, has co-authored this one-of-a-kind cookbook with another local culinary guru, Lydia Walshin. The result is a refreshing mix of delicious dishes using some of the state’s culinary souvenirs. We’re talking Little Rhody products like Iggy’s Clams, Dave’s Coffee Syrup, Wicked Natural and Olneyville’s N.Y. System Spices! So creative. So healthy. And so fun! Check it out here!

They didn’t mean to do it. They were just there. A box of donuts. Sitting on top of my fridge. The white cardboard box staring back at me, practically calling my name.

“Jackie,” it whispered as I stood in the kitchen, snacking on a carrot that was about as satisfying as a dab of toothpaste.

“You know you want one.”

My stomach was churning, but I refused to walk over.

A half dozen Allie’s donuts inside the box. Mocking me. A day after the doctor told me I had gained a few pounds. They weren’t meant for me. They were just a sweet gesture from my husband while he was in North Kingstown.

They were lined up with their cute frosted, sprinkled heads. Bright pink, blue and yellow. Darling AND delicious, like decorated Easter eggs. They were waiting for me to bite into their moist, chewy, doughy selves.

Having one of these donuts is not considered snacking. It’s like an out of body experience.

Something happens to you. You realize that if you could eat them all day (without blowing up and going into cardiac arrest), there would be no need for men. I adore my husband. But this stuff is… like… buttah.

I mean, when it comes down to it, all we really need in life (aside from our loved ones) are frosted mounds of dough with holes in the middle. Sure, place me on a treadmill. Give me a few rounds of Tylenol from the sugar high. Make me run around the block while holding a box.

The satisfaction you get from biting into these unbelievably sweet, but not disgustingly sugary hole-less dough-balls, is like something I simply can’t write out loud.

But, like I told you, I went to the doctor’s and found out that I’ve gained a few pounds over the past year. Not a good thing when you’re 42.  Not 22, sweet Ms. Swift. 42.

So I promised myself to cut back on certain things. No, I’m not going on a fast.  Unfortunately, I eat AROUND THE CLOCK and always have. I jog and do Pilates too.

But unfortunately, I tend to eat a little too much. Which has caused me to get that roll around the middle when I try to squeeze into last year’s jeans. And shorts. And anything without an elastic waistband. And yes, I have that “crack” problem when I bend down too far in jeans.

My problem is, my whole life, I’ve exercised AND had a fast metabolism. I’ve pretty much been able to eat whatever the heck I want. Until now.

Your metabolism at 42 is like watching a tortoise chase a Tootsie Roll. It’s so slow, it’s torturous.
I once when on a protein diet. My body was in agony after six hours. I cracked and had one slice of bread. One slice. I GAINED weight that very night.

I mean, really?

Oh, what happened to the box of donuts?

It’s in the recycle bin now. The donuts? They are long gone.

What? Who? Me?

Oh, I wanted them. I craved them like Gossip Girl craves her first Gucci bag.

But guess what?

I did not eat a single donut.

I snacked on an apple.

Then hard candy.

Then 18 chocolate chips.

With a shaky hand, I cut the decorative dough-balls into squares.

Then I placed them on a platter. Opened the sliding glass door.

And gave them to all the kids playing in my backyard.

Are you a stay-at-home-mom? Do you work outside the home? Do you work from home? Part-time? Full-time? Still trying to figure it out before your toddler wakes up?

Whatever you do, you’re a rock star. And I think you can relate to this mom who wrote in to my Ask Mom OnlineRI column with a dilemma that many mothers face: Should you quit your job? Look for another one?

And, how do we balance it all?

Please find my two cents here.

You get a headache. Then the pain, the pressure gets so intense, so gnarly, you fear that a vein might just pop out of your forehead. (Like Kimberly’s in that oh-so-memorable episode of Melrose Place back in 1995.)

So you take some Tylenol. Tell your kids you can’t play Uno, because Mommy doesn’t feel well. An hour goes by, and the pain doesn’t go away. So like a total mommy martyr, you try to go on with your day.

You do the laundry. The dishes. You take out the trash. Answer 25 emails. Plan a conference call. Approve a proof.

Then it hits you. This is no ordinary headache. You feel like a pile of donkey bombs.

Time to fake a smile and…when no one is looking, do the inevitable.

Grab your iPhone, lock yourself in the bathroom and………..

…oh yes…..Google your symptoms.

You type in, “Headache, fatigue, nausea, dizziness.”

57 different illnesses pop up. You are on page 1 of 25.

“Son of a..”

“Lyme disease.”

Oh my.

Son of a… that’s it. I whisper to myself, “I totally have Lyme disease.” (Sounding a lot like that woman in St. Elmo’s Fire.)

I take off my clothes and check for a tick, a bull’s eye rash. Anything.

Nada. Phew.

“Sinus headache.” Maybe that’s it. But there’s no mucus.

“Swine flu” NO.

“Flu.” But I’m not coughing. And my head doesn’t hurt there, it hurts HERE. Guuaaa.

“Appendicitis.” No pain there either. Thank God!

“Gastrointestinal virus.” All the symptoms add up, except for violent vomiting. I’m not puking, I just FEEL like puking.

Can’t be that. Or that.

Holy…no…not that either.

I pull out the thermometer.

I’m actually BELOW normal.

No one else on this beautiful earth except ME and all my female relatives has a regular temp of 97.1. It’s just not right.

I must be really, really bad. If I go to the doctor, he will probably laugh at me because I have no temp.

It must be my hormones. Or that pizza I had Friday night. But it’s MONDAY. Maybe it’s the water? Maybe I accidentally drank the plant water?

Wait, all of my symptoms show that it could it be, “Meningitis.”

I better make some calls.

But there’s no rash. Phew.

I call the doctor. He can’t get me in until later in the week.

Of course not.

I know me, and I am so going to be OK by the time the appointment comes.

Then one of those pop-up ads shows up. “Brain tumor.” And this is nothing to laugh at. But the pathetic part is I’m starting to get scared.

Everything that’s showing up in this Google search is starting to scare the Beetlejuice out of me. Plus, I’m actually starting to think I feel ALL of the symptoms listed, even though I’m lying down.  And I know for a fact that I’m not bleeding internally. Or vomiting. Or having a stroke.

So I take some Advil. I go to bed early.

And realize it was just a virus.

I promise myself to NEVER….EVER.. Google my symptoms again.

But I know I’ll do it. I totally will.

I know you know what I’m talking about.

Please don’t forget to give yourself a break this Mother’s Day. Whether you’re rockin’ a summer dress and heading out to brunch or staying in yoga pants as your kids serve you breakfast in bed, I hope you enjoy the day.

But, could you do me a favor? Could you please try not to do every little thing for everyone else, just this one day?

You know what I’m talking about.

Because you deserve it. And you can go back to doing it all the next day. And the next. And the next.

Do what you want and really try to enjoy the day.

Find out what mom REALLY wants this Mother’s Day in my latest AskMom OnlineRI.com column here.

This one’s for you, girls! XO

HAPPY MOTHER’S DAY! – Jackie

I’m still trying to come down from the natural high of being a part of the Listen to Your Mother Providence show. I feel like a second-grader waving goodbye as the last guest leaves my birthday party. There’s nothing left but deflated balloons, dented ribbons and a half-devoured birthday cake.

And a heart that burns.

Not from too much cake, but for the party to last a little longer.

Not for the presents, but for the present, to last…just a little bit longer.

I’m still reeling from the entire experience. Thirteen amazing women. All with a story to share. Original stories shared in celebration of motherhood. Of its struggles. Its highs, its lows, and everything in between. My mom and dad were so sweet, they flew in for the show! An early Mother’s Day gift!

And I got to see a ton of familiar faces, from my family to Rhody Blogger friends (Tera Norberg, Carina Aggor, Melissa Pezza, Jen Senecal, Chelley Martinka, Jodi Williston to name a few). I’m so grateful.

Today, I feel so sad to say goodbye to my show sistahs.

Together, we giggled. We cried. We laughed until we almost peed. From auditions to rehearsals, we shared our insecurities. Our worries. Funny vents. Silly side stories. Then show day, the butterflies. Natural remedies. The fears. The hairspray. And oh so much more. We gave motherhood a microphone.

We are friends 4-eva. We are LTYM sisters.

We got to be a part of something that was simply magical.

You know the saying, “The whole is greater than the sum of its parts”?

When I think about the Listen to Your Mother show, this old (and not quite accurate saying) couldn’t be more true. (And yes, Kirsten, this made me think of you and your piece!)

The whole experience, from audition to final show, was so much greater than the sum of the parts. And each cast member, although amazingly talented on their own, shined a little brighter when we performed as a group. One presenter flowed to the next, sharing something different. Something special. A part of themselves. Even people from the audience could tell you that there was something wonderful…a roller-coaster of emotions (in a good way)…going on in that auditorium.

I just have to say a special thank you to all my show sisters, for their courage and tenacity. Their wisdom and words.

Thank you, (in no particular order) Kelly Baraf,  Jennifer Ciplet, Laura Rossi, Jessica Severson, Carla Molina, Alicia Kamm, Kirsten DiChiappari, Lauren Jordan, Stephanie Lazenby, Brianne DeRosa, Lexi Magnusson, Phyllis Kim Myung, and the poetic queen, Marian Kent.

Thank you, co-producers and co-directors, Laura Rossi and Carla Molina, for creating an incredible ensemble and experience, and for performing such memorable pieces too. And for seeing the real me, quirks, fast-talking, self-deprecating, whisper-yells and all. Thank you for giving me a chance to say my piece (and my peace) on stage. I love you all!

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.

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.

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.

Visit http://blog.challengedathletes.org/ for more information and to get involved.

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!