This will forever be known to me as the wasted summer.

No vacation. No break. Very few pool days.

Not one single beach day. I did so little with my boys it is shameful.

So what did I do? I worked. I travelled. I hustled to hold it all together.

Oh and them? Well they attended a hockey camp, and tennis camps, vacationed with my mom on the beach in Santa Barbara. Jack went to New York and even visited the White House. Together they played video games & laughed at funny You Tube videos. They stayed up late and slept in. They ate junk food from the pantry and I pretended I didn’t notice. They longboarded all over town and in general just hung out in the way 11 and 13 yr old brothers do.

They had a great summer. I know they did. Mainly because I wasn’t dragging them all over trying to feel like I was being a good mom. I just let them be KIDS. This summer wasn’t about ME and my need to absolve myself of working mom guilt, or to help numb the pain of watching them grow up so damn fast….it was only about-  just BEING.

But as each summer passes, (you only get about 18 or 20 with your kids you know) I marvel at the differences. I marvel at how independent they have become. Are these really the same people who couldn’t eat or go to sleep or get dressed or even USE THE BATHROOM without me? It is an amazing transformation….and  while I miss the little life sucking guys to death….I love these freakishly-hungry-all-the-time man-boys just as much.

So today I am going back to school shopping. And I am going to kick some serious butt. Because I fear next year- they might just ask for my credit card and would rather die than be seen with me.

This year. I am going to OWN back to school.


The REAL Housewives of the OC? We raise pigs. Awesome.

  For those of you doubters who think my tongue and cheek expression that I live a truly ‘glamorous’ life is not accurate, I now have a perfect example of just how unglamorous it really can be. We live in ‘The OC’, the heart of superficial, SUV driving, Juicy Couture wearing, Botox injecting kind of [...]

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