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X-Plan: Giving your kids a way out (#xplan)

Friends, as most of you know, I get to spend an hour each week with a group of young people going through addiction recovery.  Yes.  Young people.  I’m talking teenagers who are locked away for at …

Source: X-Plan: Giving your kids a way out (#xplan)

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The Most Important Thing About Raising a Fashion Butterfly

My Girl was rocking another fantastic outfit today – So naturally I needed to share this!

Mother of Serendipity

Carefree, style to spare:
match Betsey Johnson’s fun frills
to Marc Jacobs’ street.
 
Plaids need stripes, prints too. 
Always rock your leopard spots!
With Love, all things match. 

Inspired by this fearless beauty, who has been making bold style choices since she was (just barely) able to vocalize her strong opinions about the clothes she would certainly would NOT be wearing. As well as this week’s prompt from Haiku Horizons

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Clearly, I have but One Way to Answer

Because #RDJisalwaystherightanswer. And #OnFridaysWeHaiku.

Mother of Serendipity

When in NYC – thou shalt not #fangirl.  Living in the Big Apple, I’m no stranger to celebrity sightings, not that I have pictures and autographs to prove it. Part of becoming a New Yorker is adhering to the unspoken rule against acknowledging any celebrity who is just trying to get on with daily life. 

 
I’ve bumped into Phil Donahue in the Post Office, exchanged holiday greetings with Alan Alda, and Kate McKinnon veered off the sidewalk last week to avoid crashing into my crazy Boy.
 
All that said, the prompt for today’s #NaBloPoMo piece is “who is your ideal celebrity neighbor,” and in my neck of the internet, #OnFridaysWeHaiku. So, without further ado…
Julia Roberts? 
Emma Stone? Totes adorbs! So cool
if they lived next door.
 
Still, the right answer
(regardless of the question):
*RDJ. Always. 
 
My ideal celeb, 
BFF in my head – YOU
Be my neighbor please? 
 

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Why Be Kind? Because This Is My Boy

#NewPost: Why #BeKind? Because this is My Boy.

Mother of Serendipity

It’s just a red plastic folder with his name on it, but the last few days it has tortured my son, causing him to melt down during school dismissal. Of course, it’s not really the folder, but what is contained inside: Homework.
Yes, homework, and he doesn’t want it. Nope, he does not want it at all. Doesn’t want to bring it home, doesn’t want to do it, and the mere use of the “H” word will bring him to the brink of collapse.

Ok, no kid LIKES homework. But why this dramatic reaction?

Yesterday, as I brought the folder out of his backpack, my Boy fell to the ground and called himself an idiot. As in, “I can’t do that homework! I’m just an idiot!”
After convincing him we could get it done quickly, we got to work on 4 measurement problems, basically counting both our footsteps to measure distances…

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How I Became A Grown Up

Mother of Serendipity

Flying across the Atlantic the other night I found the movie Wish I Was Here, written by Adam & Zachary Braff. Zach Braff also plays the lead. About 35 minutes into the film I paused it, and the following flowed out. 

Do you want to know when you really become a grown up? It’s when you have to take care of your parent/guardian/whathaveyou.  

The day you realize you’re the caregiver. That the balance has shifted on your scales. 
 
For a litany of reasons that I’m not delving into, I was the official decision maker as my mom lay dying in a hospital. 
 
My dad was on the other side of town, in a different hospital, & working his way back to mom. 
 
My brother, let’s call him Daniel, was the one who lived closer. He had a wife & a gaggle of kids. I lived 6…

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Sunday Confessions: First Love

Love is in the air…

Mother of Serendipity

…You were my first love  
And you’ll be my last love 
I’ll be true to you… 
Ever since More Than Cheese And Beer posted this week’s confession prompt, I’ve been trying to figure out who I would consider my “first love.”
 
Surely not Steven, my 1st grade beau. He may have gotten the inaugural kiss, but I can’t say I loved him. 
 
So I mentally scrolled through the years, recalling heady days when love was budding & coming to blossom. Memories replayed like home movies, each love story flickering in my mind to it’s own soundtrack. 
 
The more I thought about those young loves the louder the music seemed to play. 
 
Eventually the music brought me around to a montage of family camping trips. Love of family? Could that qualify as a first love? 

Maybe one of my favorite singers from my childhood? John Denver &…

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Influenced Insanity

The Angrivated Mom

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It’s hard to love yourself when no one ever wants to stay,

When family and friends are easy to forget you even have a name.

It’s hard to love your life, graciously gifted without wanting,

When family and friends taunt you with so many reasons to feel ashamed.

It’s a challenge to accept yourself the deplorable way you were forged,

When family and friends beg mercilessly for everything about you to be changed.

It’s a challenge to accept the fate written for you by the stars,

When family and friends make it clear that you are delusionally deranged.

It’s a struggle to be brave and face each day with hopeful optimism,

When family and friends are brazenly pessimistic about your valueless worth.

It’s a struggle to be brave and face each day through the agony plaguing your mind,

When family and friends don’t see a purpose in you being here…

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