When Some Little S#$t Gives Your Kid a Hard Time and You Don't Punch Them and You Turn It Into a Growing Opportunity For Your Kid

So there's this kid in my daughter's class, and he was in her class last year, too, and how to put this... he's sort of a jerk. And I base this not on secondhand info from my kid, I base this on my own observations because I'm lucky enough to have weekdays off and go on many field trips so I've seen for myself, the kid is kind of a jerk. Now, I can remember last year thinking that, in very general terms, second graders can be assholes. I remember this because I remember talking about this with a friend who has taught second grade and who I believe straight up said, "Second graders are assholes." If your kid was not an asshole in second grade, or if you're thinking, well, mine will NOT be one of those in second grade, more power to you. That's awesome. But I'm just saying they can be.  Third grade doesn't seem to be that way so much but you know, they're kids, and I know my own kid has hormonal changes going on, the type of changes that I didn't see until I was like twelve and she's nine, so I'm sure that's a factor with some of the boys, too. That being said, I stand by my opinion that this kid, we'll call him Jerry (because Jerkface Jerry), is a bit of a jerk. A troublemaker. A pain in the butt. The kid you see on the field trip and think wow, I'm glad that I have MY kid.

So for whatever reason, Jerry has got MY kid on his radar. There have been a couple of little incidents I've heard about where he's being a jerk to her and at least one time where he was encouraging some of the other boys in the class to also be jerky. And I'm like well, he's a boy, they can be so dumb (because really, is it ever too early to let your daughter know this?), just ignore him. Which reminds me of my dearly departed mom telling me this when I was a kid and my little brother was driving me up the wall and I was like well, how about he not be a jerk and then I have nothing to ignore? But her advice was golden: If you want to tease someone and you don't get a reaction, then you're going to stop teasing that person because how fucking boring is that? So this is what I'm going for with the kid.

Yesterday she comes out of class, and I can tell she's been crying, and she says that Jerry said she was "ugly and pitiful." So my first reaction was an honest one. I said, "Wow, that was really jerky of him." Some of her friends appear to check on her and I was like look, do these guys think that about you? No, they don't. And whose opinion matters, theirs or Jerry's? Oh, and I'm not sure if it was yesterday or another time but it came up that Jerry also called her fat. First of all, she's not fat. Second of all, even if she were overweight, eff you, Jerry, for calling her fat. And apparently he started in on his jerkiness by calling attention to the fact that she is not a fan of elevators or heights, because on the last field trip she mentioned this (I was with her in the elevator) and the field trip before that it involved sitting in a balcony.

Anyway, we came home and spent some time cuddling because no matter how much you know some jerk's opinion doesn't matter, it still hurts. Especially when we're super sensitive and my poor kid has my genes so she is SUPER sensitive, which is another reason why she's a great target for Jerry, because he figures he can make her cry. She's not even crying when we're cuddling, but she's bummed. So this makes the mama bear in me want to go to the school, pick up Jerry by the scruff of the neck, drag him over to some bushes, and just leave him there. Because this is my baby and he's hurting her with his words. I said maybe I should say something to him.  And she says, "Yeah, Mom, and use your STERN voice." Which cracked me up because apparently I have a stern voice that comes out on the 4th time I'm telling my kid to do something, and I love that she picked that adjective because it sounds so parental. But then I thought you know what, I'd like to give my kid the tools to deal with this. So here is what we came up with for now: Should Jerry decide to drop a jerk bomb on her, she will just look at him for a minute, and then in the most uninterested voice she can muster, with a blank look on her face, she can say, "Huh. That's interesting." Nothing more. I am hoping her lack of reaction coupled with this condescension that even a nine year old boy should be able to comprehend, that she completely fries his circuits and he deems teasing and/or bullying her to be boring, an exercise in futility because there are no tears and impassioned insults from her (because yes, she is sensitive, but she will also express her feelings and tell you EXACTLY what she thinks of you). 

This morning we're in front of her class and I see Jerry and I swear to goodness that I had this visceral longing to go upside this kid's head. I don't even believe in corporal punishment and I certainly don't believe in handling conflicts with physicality (which is obviously different if someone were in a position being forced to defend themselves which I suppose is a whole other can of worms), but I'm just admitting to all of you that I wanted to clobber this kid. Instead I said, Jerry, have a great day. I know he heard me, but he didn't even meet my gaze. So I said, and this time louder, Jerry. He looks at me. Have a great day. He mumbles, okay. But I'm thinking yes, you little jerk, have a great day so you don't decide to fuck with MY kid because you have your own set of issues. Do I have compassion for Jerry because I'm sure his jerkiness is stemming from stuff that has absolutely nothing to do with  my kid? Yes. Do I still think he is a jerk who better leave my kid alone? Yes.

We're in third grade. When I was in a third grade boys didn't even know I was alive to tease me. I was as quiet as a little mouse and flew under the radar for most of my academic life. But my kid (and yes, I'm biased) is beautiful, she's smart and sassy, and she speaks her mind. She has moments of shyness and moments of extreme sensitivity, but she will not be able to fly under the radar the way her mother did, and frankly, I'm glad about that, even if it means dealing with another Jerry here and there. Or this particular Jerry from now through junior high because at least in high school boys might not be as much into name calling, right? I mean I'm forty-five in June and I know boys still bug me. They still make my heart hurt, they still do stuff or don't do stuff that drives me nuts. But obviously I've got a bigger tool box with which to deal with boynanigans than my nine year old. So I'll continue to be there for hugs and support and advice and encouragement (when she was less than enthusiastic about going to school this morning I played Taylor Swift's "Shake it Off" while she was in the shower), and I will not pick up boys bear-style and drag them away from the classroom and throw them into a ditch made just for jerks. 

Being a kid can be tough. Being a mom can be tough. But I know we'll get through it.

A Short One With Tears About Mom

It hits me like a ton of bricks when it's my first time in a few days that I'm alone. I'm not at work, I'm not with the kid. It's me in the house and I get sad that Mom is gone. So I talk out loud to the air, that I wish she was here. And then I get busy and get a bunch of stuff done even before I sit down to drink coffee and feel like I'm rocking this time before I go to work. And then I read this beautiful email from one of Mom's friends and she says,

"The world is a smaller place without her." And I just fucking lose it. Because it really, and truly, and most definitely is. 

I will always endeavor to be happy. I'm just never going to be as happy as I was when she was here.

There will always be light, it's just not as bright. And that's life.

Live every day with joy and happiness, like, totally. But we have a few key companions on this journey, and once they're gone, it can never be the same. We mustn't think it will ever go back to normal, because it won't. There is only the clichéd "new normal." But that's the only way to put it.

So that's where I am. I miss her. I want to call her and tell her about this amazing picture that the kid drew, and more than that, this ridiculously creative story she wrote that goes with it. My goodness, she's so bright and she's so creative and fabulous, and I so miss sharing that with Mom. Or sharing the silly conversations that the kid and I have, because when I made my mom laugh, like a really good laugh, oh my gosh, how I loved it. I loved laughing with her. I miss it and her hugs and knowing that she could always make me feel like everything will be okay.

And everything will be okay. So she let me know that enough that I know it's true.

But man. How I miss her.

Be good to each other. Be so good and positive in the world that you are ridiculously missed.

Mom

My mom passed away on Wednesday, January 29, 2014. She was my best friend. The first one I called for whatever. The good, the bad, the meaningless, the meaningful. She was my shoulder for crying, she was my arms for hugging. My cheerleader, and yes, the proverbial wind beneath my wings. All of these things and so much more. A beautiful person with a beautiful heart who was loved and enjoyed by so many.

I keep thinking of that scene in Four Weddings and a Funeral, at the funeral, when Matthew is eulogizing his beloved Gareth, and he quotes this part of the W. H. Auden poem, Stop all the clocks (Funeral Blues):

"He was my North, my South, my East and West,
My working week and my Sunday rest,
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;
I thought that love would last for ever: I was wrong"

Mom was my everything. My kid is also my everything: Mom was my other everything. My other other half.

My compass, moral and otherwise. My tether. The thing helping to hold me to the ground, to a center. Right now I feel I'm floating.

Everything goes on... I mother, I cook, I eat, I exercise, I laugh with my friends, I watch TV, I sleep. But it all feels different. It doesn't feel normal. It feels like things about which I'd look forward or get excited hover just above the ground... I still feel the excitement but there is something hollow there, too. It's not as exciting. It's not as funny. It doesn't feel as special.

I know that this part, the part where I'm missing her, the part where I feel that nothing is quite right, that this part will hurt less and feel less weird. I'm not there yet. I'm heading toward new new normal. New normal started in October of 2012 when Dad died. So now it's new new normal.

There is no way to make this neat and tidy. No way to just get over this part that feels so sad and hollow and get to the other side. It's only time that will get me there.

I keep saying to people it's one day at a time. It's more like one hour at a time. One minute, even.

And my brain is like full of what I picture as ping pong balls, that rattle around and bounce up and down and I never know which one will come up. One ball says, "I had her for forty three years. I'm so lucky. Think of people who lose their moms when they're twenty. Or when they're little kids. I'm so very blessed to have had her for a long as I did." Another ball pops up and says, "Cancer sucks so much ass. It didn't even have a fair fight. What kind of bullshit is it that we found out about the cancer in October and it closed down her stomach in December so she couldn't even eat for the last month of her life? What kind of ridiculous unfair nonsense is that when she was the best person I've ever known?"  And yet another ball pops up that says, "I miss my mommy. I want to call her. I want to go to her house and just lay my head on her chest and hug her and stay there, all day and all night long. I want my mommy." No, I was not able to type that line without crying. Without sitting here at the computer, sobbing by myself.

It's my first day alone with my thoughts. The kid stayed home with me the day after Mom died. Then we had her field trip. Then the weekend. Then three days out of school with a head cold. So now she's back to school and it's me in my house at the computer, just me, the computer, some coffee and my brain. So I guess that's why I had to do this today. 

I cannot say how much my support people have helped me throughout all of this. My family. My brother in particular. My kid who fills me with love and joy and laughter always. My friends. My special best friends, my lovenet. My friends who have fed me, emotionally and literally. My friends who have been where I am. Who have lost their mommies or their mommies and their daddies and who show me strength and inspire me and make me know that I won't always feel so lost. I won't always feel as if I'm floating in a bad way. Without these people, I don't know what I would do. I just know this process would be that much harder.

I can only end this part of my journey with the way we ended most of our phone calls, with a back and forth that went something like this. Silliness that evolved, I believe, from my brother making fun of me and Mom for some kind of goodbye exchange.

I love you best.
I love you most.
Back crack big Mac.
Give your dog a bone.
Give YOUR dog a bone.

And I also told her I loved her to the moon. And back, and up and down and flip around.

And I always will. 

The One About How I Miss My Dad and the Good Things Left Behind

I can't believe it's been a year since we lost my dad to cancer. It seems like only yesterday that my brother called me at work and said I needed to come to care home where my dad was NOW, not after work as I'd planned. And I went and I held Dad's hand and Mom's hand and I hugged my brother and I told my dad how much I loved him and at least once early in the day he was able to tell me he loved me, too, and though it wasn't clear I know that's what he said.

That was for me. I'm not assuming you guys are crying or anything and if you are I'm sorry and I'll turn it around with some good stuff, at least I hope so.

So, last night I was on the way home from the hospital because my mom's in the hospital because either the universe has a HILARIOUS sense of humor or a really SUPER FUCKED UP sense of humor or you know, life is just nuts and shit like that, and the story of her being in the hospital is another story for another blog and not for today. But anyway. I was on the way home and I decided to have a conversation with my dad.

Yes, like, me in my car, in the dark, talking out loud to my dad who died a year ago. Because here is the thing, and this is what I told him in this conversation, I don't know how all of this works. So I figure what the heck, I told him I loved him and I missed him and if he has any pull with ANYONE who has any control over ANYTHING though I tend to believe all of life is just luck, good or rotten or in-between, but again, what if I'm wrong about that, so I'm like obviously go ahead and pull some strings about Mom so everything goes all smoothly with her and all that. That would be great.

And then I cried like a big fat crybaby bitch all the way to my brother's house to pick up my daughter.

What I have found, when you have a kid, and you are trying to hold it together for the most part around her, because hey, she's a kid, and she should get to be a kid as much as she can and not be worried or worried about her mommy etc. So I have found that the car is for crying. The car is also good for screaming if you need to do that. Roll up the windows first, but then scream your fucking head off if you need to, and in this past year, I have found times that I need to scream my fucking head off.

So I'm thinking I got that sobfest out of the way. So I am planning today when Dad crosses my mind (which will be a lot) to think about what he leaves behind, and not in the sad way, but in the good way.

one of my faves

my baby, my stupid cat, and my baby's Pop Pop



The things that come up in conversation that I call "JohnMoore-isms." Stuff that Dad would have said in response to certain situations. Loud SIGHS he would have made when he's like, what can I even say to that, or the look that he would get on his face. I look at my kid and her amazing  little brain and I'm like, damn, she's hella smart. Like Dad smart. The man was brilliant. And it's like, my brother and I wouldn't be here and wouldn't be us if it weren't for my dad and we're kind okay as far as humans go.

And then we have our wonderful fabulous precious beautiful children. And all of us loved my dad and he loved us and it's like, at the end of the day, when your number is up, and mothereffer, that is going to happen to all of us, like it or not, it's what's left here when your number up. It's who you loved and who remembers you and who walks around with a part of you inside of them.

my baby and my little brother's baby

That's what it's all about.

And Dad, if you have Internet wherever you are, like I already told you, I miss the hell out of you and I wish you were still here and I'm pissed that you're not but I'm grateful for all the pieces of you that are still here.

A Shortportant One

Yes, short, and important. Two things my blog posts almost never are.

If you can only pick one thing at which to be good, make it loving people.

It occurred to me last night that I'm not really good at much of anything. I like to sing to and I like to write, but plenty of people are way better at it than I am. I try to do the best I can do at my job (and so far I do well enough that they keep paying me to return, knock wood), but I'm not the best at it and may never be. I can't sew on a fucking button. I mean, I could if I absolutely had to, but it probably would not stay on my pants the entire day. And my house is probably always going to be a mess. And I'm more than likely always going to be a little bit fat (which would be better than being a lot fat like right now).

I am, however, really fucking super great at loving my kid. As she was cuddled up to me last night and I was reading to her because yes, reading to her is still awesome even though she can read, I thought, THIS is where it's at. THIS is the thing of which I'm most proud, that my kid never for a single second EVER doubts how much I love her.

Damn it all to heck, I just put on eye makeup and I'm tearing up like a little crybaby.

Everything we do, especially with our kids but this should go for everyone and everything, we should try to do it with COMPASSION. I'm talking about kids and parenting here, mainly, but you can figure out how to apply this even if you don't have kids and never want to have any of those and if you don't, hey, I get it, because it's a hard job and kids are not for everyone. For. Real. But even if they do stuff that is wrong or bad, we can correct them with love and compassion. It's like, I don't like what you did, but I still love YOU. You're going to have to get your timeout or get grounded or get your phone taken away, but let's TALK about this. And here's why this is bad and so help me, don't you ever do that again!

But I still LOVE you.

If you kick the bucket tomorrow, I GUARANTEE the thing of which you will be the most proud of is not that you are the best at your job or the smartest or the prettiest in your class or that you always win at backgammon or whatever. You will be the proudest of the fact that people you love knew you loved them because you were always telling them and showing them.

Especially your kids. They're not accessories. We're growing human beings. Literally. Like, what a big deal that is.

I know I'm lucky. My kid can be a pain and a diva and dramatic and emotional and unreasonable. But mostly she is sweet and good and full of joy and the light of my life. So loving her is a piece of cake. I know this. But still, for some reason I just felt like I wanted to say today that

the thing you should want to be the best at is loving. Especially your kids.

P. S. Sorry, I thought this was gonna be shorter, I really did!!

Newest Member of the Club No One Wants to Join

Sadly, a bunch of you are members of this club, it's the I Lost a Parent Club. And it's a really shitty club that most of us know we will join one day, sooner or later, if life takes its natural course. It's still shitty. The people in the club? Oh, they're fabulous. And they get it. Because no matter how empathetic or kind or loving you are, you don't get it until you join.

So I'm a member of this club and that's part of the reason I haven't written in a while (well, that plus my normal laziness, the lazy part has not changed with my club membership), because I figured the first time I went to write I'd need to write about Dad and I kind of don't like to talk about it.

I stalled on reviewing the obituary draft Mom worked up, I still have unread sympathy cards on my table (they're opened because Mom was at my house watching my kid and sometimes she gets in this mood to sort out my mail because I will literally let it pile up for weeks [see the lazy part above, plus I pay all my bills online], so she opened them and told me how lovely they were). But I still haven't read them. Because that sort of shit reminds me that it is real. My dad is really gone.

Dad, holding Kayla the day she was born

On the one hand, I remind myself to be thankful that the suck-ass part of his disease was relatively short compared to the way many have suffered with cancer. He was on this planet for nearly 70 years, while every time I turn around I hear stories of fathers taken from families when their kids were little. My dad at least got to see that his kids grew up pretty okay (yes, the jury IS still out on me). I got to see him blossom when he became a grandfather, Kayla's and then Morgan's Pop Pop, and we got to see parts of him that we hadn't seen before.

We got the chance to have beautiful conversations with him in the last six months, opportunities that so many people don't have when they suddenly become members of this club, and for that I am eternally grateful. There is peace in me because I felt like there was not a single word left unsaid.

Let me take this opportunity to remind you all, again, to tell people that you love them. A lot. As in, all the fucking time.



The other good points were the people I think of as guest stars on The Shit Show. Laura, the one who took me and Mom to look for care homes so we could pick the place Dad spent his last night (though at the time we didn't know it would be his last night because the end all happened so fast, except for that last day which was the longest and worst day of my life), is a beautiful special lady who will never be forgotten. She, too, was a club member so obviously she gets it and then she was just amazing. The lovely ladies at the care home, the one who stood behind me (okay, I wasn't going to cry when I did this, dang it all to heck) and held my shoulders while I held Dad's hand and just sobbed. The last nurse we had, who was with us and Dad until the end... Elmar. We'll never forget that guy. Yes, this is the best you can hope for, kind, caring guest stars on one of the worst shows ever. And of course, all the people who supported us throughout this whole thing. My friends who had to hear about it as often as I could manage to talk about it and who lifted my spirits and kept me sane... of course I'll never forget those guys because they're stuck with me.

And the very best thing to have is a family you love and like very much. Without them I'm sunk.

I think about him every day, several times each day. Like I told Kayla, even when people pass away, if we love them we keep them and our memories of them in our heart. And that's exactly what I'm doing. That, and laughing and living a lot, because you need to do a little extra to live for the one who is not here anymore, at least that's what I think. And every once in a while I cry. And every once in a while I get hit with this incredible ball of loneliness, which is the only way I can explain it, and it really sucks. I mean, I just keep saying, "This really sucks." There's no way around it. And to pull myself out of it I look at something lovely and amazing, like stars or the sun setting behind a hill, or leaves on trees rustling, birds flying, good nature stuff like that. And of course looking into the eyes of my lovely and amazing daughter and hugging on her is pretty helpful. Beautiful distractions, joyful distractions, finding these would be the best advice I can give to club members.

Lessons From the S#$t Show™*

*I stole borrowed the term "Shit Show" from my pal Stephy Poo. I know she will forgive me and I even threw her a bone by adding the ™ in the title.

Learn some stuff from this shit show my family and I are going through. Here I define shit show as knowing that someone you love is very, very sick and there is nothing you can do for them. Except to be there and try to make them comfortable if you can but mostly just be there and hold their hand and tell them that you love them. So here is the stuff I'm hoping to pass on to you because it makes me feel a little better to write it down.

 There is no such thing as saying "I love you" too much to people you love. Try to live your life so you have few regrets. And then if you do have a few, try to concentrate on the good stuff. Remember that part about telling people you love them. Hug a bunch. Hugging is great even if you don't have a rack like I do. Try to find stuff that is beautiful. Like, look up at the stars. Those are hecka beautiful. And they remind you of how small we are, which is trippy and amazing. Try to find stuff to laugh about. This part can be hard so have as many funny ass people in your life as possible. And you know, crying is okay and it's gotta be done when shit is just hella, hella, hella sad. And you're not weak, you're human, if you just have to cry. But remember all that other stuff because it's super important.

The Good, The Bad, and The Other Stuff

I was going to be all committed to posting three times each week, because I figured I have three days off and at some point during each of those days I should be able to pull something out of my a$% to put on paper, figuratively speaking. 

Hey, for those of you who write, remember when stuff like this would have been done at a typewriter? The first screenplays I ever wrote when I was a teenager were on a Brother word processor... at last I think that's what it was... Like, it was a typewriter, but fancy, because I think there was a little screen that showed what you were typing and I think you could save your work? Sheesh, I'm so senile. And I remember my white typewriter, and I would haul it with me if Mom and I went on a road trip, and I was like 20-something, sitting in a hotel room, smoking and typing, while Mom was a slot machine, smoking and dropping in nickels (remember, this was the OLDEN days). And there was that one word processor I had where I could save stuff on discs... I mean sheesh, I don't think I even had a computer until 1998 or so, and it was a hand-me-down from my bestie, Spook. Wow. Now it's so much easier to write now, technologically-speaking, and I am amazed when I think of all the writing I got done in the olden days, when I had to insert paper and back space with the white-out corrector to fix errors and holy heck. Just wow.

I have a sick baby at home with cabin fever. I love her to bits but she is driving me a little bit nuts. One of the reasons the words aren't flowing this week.

Also, it's been a heckuva a week. Starting Monday. The kind of week where certain parts of my life are turned upside down.

Here is what I have learned, and some of this stuff I already knew, of course:

I have the best friends and family in the world.
I'm sort of strong, like emotionally.
Life is not fair.
Banging your head against the wall hurts and is completely not at all useful.

And most importantly, my number one priority in life for the past six and half years is my daughter. And she will ALWAYS be my number on priority, period. Nothing is more important to me than her happiness and well-being.

So when you have a ball-busting few days, the good part is that you do see how much people love and care about you, you do see what you're capable of, and you force yourself to look at all the things that are in your life that are good and wonderful.

My coffee was too strong. Typing is a little hard because my fingers are sorta shaky. Not. Good.

Anyway, I have a lot of stuff in my life that brings me joy. I laugh. A lot. 

Curling up in a ball and crying about the s$%t that just ain't right is pretty ineffective. Though once in a while, you just need to curl up in a ball and cry about the s$%t that just ain't right. Then dry your tears and hug someone up who loves hugging on you, and then think about the joyful stuff.

So today is about making plans and being constructive. Like I'm gonna clean my house because it's a MESS. 

I'm also going to exercise. I've been with a head cold or sinus stuff, I swear, off and on for like 5 weeks. Not kidding. And it's taken the wind out of my sails a bit and made it easy for me to be lazy. Well, I need some endorphins. I need to feel STRONG, physically. I did 30 minutes of Wii yoga the other night and it was ridiculously therapeutic. And like, at the beginning I couldn't touch my toes and at the end I could, so there you go. Stretching my body out and breathing is soooooooooooooooo good for me.  I have to do it more often.

What's the point of this post? I have no clue. To let you guys know if you are having a f$%ked up week you're not alone, that could be one point. Also because writing stuff down sometimes helps my brain. Maybe someone will read this and exercise today, or do some yoga. That would be awesome. Mainly, if you are reading this, I encourage you to find some joy. Feel joyful, be joyful, spread it around. Cry if you need to, and then get all joyful if you can. 

If you need hugs, please take these cyberhugs I'm sending now. Feel that? That's for you! I hope it helped! Talking to you guys always helps me out, so thanks!

The Thanksgiving Post, Or the One in Which I Talk About Stuff For Which I'm Thankful and Try Not to Repeat Myself Too Much

We should totally be thankful for everything we have and the beauty that surrounds us, like, 365 days a year. But since we have this holiday with the word thanks right in there, it seems fitting that on this day in particular we should talk about all that stuff to get into the spirit of the day, you know, beyond getting stuffed to the gills and hanging out with our families and/or friends. And what a good place to start... So in no particular order here is the list of stuff for which I'd like to give thanks:

1. Getting stuffed to the gills with my family: Thanksgiving is awesome. I am so thankful I am not working today because sometimes that is the case and I show up after everyone's eaten and is already in a coma and I have my plate(s) of food by my lonesome. At least a couple of times when that happened, I was fortunate enough to have already partaken of an awesome spread at work. I am thankful that I love my family... a lot... and that they seem to feel the same way about me. We always have a good time when we're together and I'm really looking forward to this afternoon.

2. My beautiful daughter: No explanation needed, right? To be all Jerry Maguire (which I swear, is not something I normally am), she completes me. In a way that no other person or partner ever could. Motherhood is amazing, mostly because she is.

3. My friends: I only have about the best group of friends ever. Many of whom came to me late in a life but that I think I will keep forever. They're amazing, the way they put up with my insanity and my hormones and my bad judgments and they just love me. So lucky to have them (and they know who they are).

4. The Internet: It keeps me connected to people to whom I might not otherwise be connected. Or not connected on a regular basis, and that is my favorite thing about it. Also, when you don't know what something is you can Google it. You don't have to go to the library (though I do love the library, a whole lot) or pull out an encyclopedia and that's pretty badass.

5. My family: The good, the bad, and the hilarious. The whole thing. They made me who I am today and they always have my back.

6. My set-up: As in, my job, my lack of commute, my house. It's awesome. I'm making out like a bandit. I love my job and don't want to leave until they make me or I can retire. I love my house and hope to never leave it (and fantasize about owning it one day and making it bigger, but even if that never happens I still don't want to leave). And I love that the house I love is down the street from the job I love. Really, with that deal right there, what in the heck do I have to complain about?

7. Helpful drugs: You know, the kind that make your brain a little better? Like, let's say you're wired such that you think things TO DEATH, to the point of losing a great deal of sleep, and that you get easily depressed, and because you're depressed when things don't go right you kinda want to SCREAM or throw things? There are drugs that can help with that. I love that one does not have to live with faulty brain wiring their whole life if one does not want to. This one did not want to and I love that I don't have to.

8. Endorphins: Similar to helpful drugs, but natural and FREE!! Get some.

9. Food: It's just so good.

10. Dancing shows, like DWTS and SYTYCD: They make me smile. Watching people dance can make me laugh, or cry, or get goosebumps, or all of the above. It's a beautiful thing. I also love the interaction between the hosts and judges on both shows. Such fun.

11. Top Chef, Next Iron Chef, and almost any cooking show: See "food" above, for starters. I've loved cooking shows since I was a kid watching them on PBS with my mom on Saturday mornings (thanks, Mom!). Cooking competition shows are just dynamite. I love to see the things that people make, even though I will probably never make them or even taste them. But still, I can't get enough.

12. A washer and dryer at my house: If you do laundry outside your home or ever have this needs no explanation.

13. Coffee: I don't know what I'd do without it.

14. Carrie Fisher: I love her. I'm reading Shockaholic on the Kindle right now and I can tell I'm going to devour it. I think I've read all of her books; Surrender the Pink was one of my favorites, and her one-woman show was a-mah-zing. She's so real and insane and funny and has been so troubled and is so open about it. If I had to go out to lunch with two famous ladies right now, I want to go with her and Tina Fey.

15. My mom: I know I said my family, but special shout out to my mom. She is my... am I really gonna tear up? F#%king hormones! She is my rock. My touchstone. My friend. The one who drives me nuts by nagging me about stuff (stuff about which I need to be nagged). To say she has my back is an understatement. She cares for my daughter (physically, as a sitter, and emotionally, but loving her up to the moon [and yes, sometimes spoiling her]). She has bailed me out more times than I care to mention. I love hanging out with her; we've had great adventures just the two of us and with the kid and I look forward to many more. If I had to choose a mom from the fictional Mom Store of which I've told Kayla many times, I would choose her all over again. She is simply the best.

I'm thankful for a whole bunch of other stuff, but I've rambled on long enough.

What are you thankful for, today or any day or every day?