Mom Goes to College

The truth is, I don’t know if I can do it. My subconscious has been regularly jolting me awake from deep sleeps in terrified heart-pounding panic, having to catch my breath just lying there. I don’t know if life will get in the way. I don’t know if the high-level math will be too hard, the physics beyond my comprehension level. I don’t know if I can afford it and endure over the long haul.

I do know that if I don’t try, I’ll end up, if I’m lucky, in some communications job in some office pushing some agenda that I don’t really care about wondering if I could have been a scientist.

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Never Give Up: The Irish Way

This was a constant hanging on the wall of my Irish childhood. This is the actual plaque that still hangs on the wall of my mom’s house today. I asked her to send me a pic of it because I’ve always loved it – and because it’s St. Patrick’s day, a celebration of a heritage […]

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Say it with me. Healthy. Boundaries.

The Irish-American actor and writer, Malachy McCourt, once said, “Resentment is taking poison and waiting for the other person to die.”

I don’t know about you, but damn it all to hell if the other person never dies. Forget about dying, they are actually laughing, living happy lives and wouldn’t think twice about you waiting over in the corner ready to punch someone.

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How to Talk to Your Girls About Body Image

We stepped aside to a quiet spot in the school hallway where she revealed to me, near tears, that she was walking funny.

“Because my stomach is fat,” she admitted, triggering negative self-talk cry mode. She demonstrated that she was walking with her shoulders and waist slightly bent forward all day to hide her “fat” stomach.

As a woman, I totally get this experience. But as a 9-year-old, how could she feel this horrible about herself already? Of all things to worry about at this age, being fat isn’t one of them. Except that it is.

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When Hope is Shared

It will serve as a reminder to me, for now, and to Ava as she grows old enough to understand, that we must endure what we think we cannot, that we must still believe even when we want to give up, that we must be present often enough to feel the purity of gratitude, and that there is immense love and power in the sharing of HOPE.

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The Real Dirt on Mud Runs

(Originally written Oct, 2013) I’m not a joiner – never have been. You could say I’m more of the lone-wolf type. In school, I didn’t go to football games, homecomings or proms. I’ve never been a big fan of group activities like organized religion, social media or, heaven forbid, mommy’s groups. But even I must […]

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The Unwitting American Racist

When two of my friends and co-workers, Kim and Tina, asked if I felt safe walking to my car at night by myself in an affluent La Jolla neighborhood at the end of our evening out, I actually said, “Look around! There’s nothing but rich white people!” Yep. It came right out of my stupid […]

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