When Mom AND Dad Get Sick at the Same Time….

Everyone knows Moms can’t get sick. We have people depending on us; lunchboxes begging to be filled, homework that needs to be done, and God knows someone needs to be driven to 3 birthday parties every weekend. Well – this Mom went down hard. I got hit; attempted to get back up, got hit harder, and I’m still recovering. The worst part of getting sick this time; my husband went down too and just as hard. 
When both parents are out, it’s survival of the fittest for everyone involved.

I got hit on a Saturday with fever, chills, and crazy fatigue. I went to bed and emerged Sunday, walked directly to my daughter’s room and started straightening up . It was just  a reflex … I had been sleeping all day; my husband brought me toast and Gatorade… I was able to lift my head so … I’m cured and should get back to it right?? “What are you doing? Are you crazy “ he said, “get back to bed! What could you possibly need to be doing ?” He was right! What on earth was I doing picking up a god damn board game and putting it back in her closet? “I dunno,“ I mumbled like a zombie and hobbled back to bed for 2 days. Thank God he handled school drop off and pick up Monday and Tuesday. By Tuesday I was starting to feel better aside from a super sensitive stomach with no appetite, (but we all know the silver lining of any bug is the weight loss I mean…am i right?) 
It was Tuesday afternoon when my husband texted me from work, “Now I feel sick”. Uh oh I thought … good thing I’m feeling better. I washed all the sheets, opened all the windows, and did some cleaning to kill whatever germs I had and got ready for Round 2: DAD IS DOWN. Wednesday morning I dropped Issy at school and headed to Whole Foods for the hippie stuff and then to Rite Aid for the trusty old school standards. Old school /new school- we’ll take it all…oregano oil, immunity shots with extra ginger, elderberry syrup, Robitussin, and NyQuil- you name it- we had it. AND- lets not forget a few packs of one time use surgical masks.

Wednesday I took care of drop off and pick up and had to leave my now poor sick husband to do the bedtime routine as I ran off to work. It was my first day without a fever since Saturday. I was exhausted and my stomach was off. I was repulsed by food and just sipping water made it hurt. Even the silver lining of potential weight loss wasn’t enough of a comfort at this point and I longed to be normal again. Meanwhile my husband was now feverish with chills and a cough that sounded like he had pneumonia. The roles had switched and I needed to take charge of Issy duties no matter how nauseated I felt. But by Thursday afternoon, I took a terrible turn. A wave of heat came over me and that was the beginning of phase 3: MOM IS DOWN AGAIN/ I repeat: MOM AND DAD ARE BOTH DOWN.

So Dad was coughing up a lung and Mom couldn’t keep water down. I had probably consumed the equivalent of a glass of water and 3 pieces of toast in about a week’s time. Each morning, my husband and I would look at eachother and play a mental game of rock/ paper/scissor to determine who would get up with Issy. Once we hit the weekend and morning drop off wasn’t an issue- she had to practically fend for herself. “Go watch something on Netflix” we would say. She could help herself to whatever food she could reach; I mean she’s 5. She’s practically an adult now right? Every once in a while she would need us to enter the parental code to watch a show intended for 7 year old’s but under the circumstances, I think we’re just going to let that fly. For the record, not being able to keep water down trumps a death rattle cough in this house, so my husband took the first shift on the couch and then I would emerge and take the second shift so he could go back to bed. I’m pretty sure Issy lived off of Pirates Booty and (out of guilt),  girl scout cookies.  By Sunday, poor girl had cabin fever. “Can we play a game? she would ask. The novelty of screen time had worn off and she wanted to PLAY. “What about UNO,” I’d suggest. ” No, Mom a real game like hide and seek.”  (I shuttered at the thought of having to move.) But I felt so bad; I gave in and squeezed myself behind chairs and under tables but honestly it hurt my stomach to fold my body in anyway. It was my idea to take the spin art down from the top shelf and cover the Persian rug  from my husband’s Grandfather with an old sheet and get the damn paint out because I am: 1) crazy and 2) felt so awful that I’d basically disappeared as Mom for a week . She was delighted and I enjoyed her happiness for a minute before immediately regretting my decision to use non washable paint inside. I convinced her to play board games as her paintings dried. 

This has never happened before where both of us were completely incapacitated. In a word, it was HELL. But, we somehow got through it. Here is my advice when both parents are sick:

  1. Order tons of Persian food at the first sign of feeling sick. There will be so much food left over that it will sustain your entire family for weeks!
  2. Don’t eat all the Girl Scout cookies as soon as you buy them. Keep some unopened boxes in the back of the cabinet so you can bribe your kid when you can’t move.
  3. Use those one time use surgical masks when someone gets sick. I know we’re all living together and chances are it’ll make the rounds but surely this helps reduce the spread of germs. For the record, our daughter never got sick, (most likely because she was the gross little carrier of it but STILL)
  4. Lastly, if someone says , “Can I do anything for you?” Say yes and accept help. If we didn’t have all the leftover Persian food, when my friend asked if she could drop off something on my doorstep, I would have given her a grocery list. Though my child was perfectly fine with pirates booty for a week.

Wishing you all good health!


Surgical face mask for the win






A Feast of Gratitude


Thanksgiving is the perfect time to talk about gratitude with your littles if you don’t already . God knows we can’t continue this made up first Thanksgiving feast fantasy with Pilgrims and Native Americans like it’s a picture perfect spread in the Williams Sonoma catalog – it was total bloodbath and we all know that…well most of us.   I get that it complicates lesson plans for preschool and kindergarten teachers but let’s focus on tracing leaves and teaching kids to say “thank you” and maybe by second grade the history books can start by saying- Our history is full of shameful moments…the first Thanksgiving myth is one of those: American History Chapter One:  We Were Mean and Entitled . 

Sorry America Is it too soon?

Look, Thanksgiving is truly about giving thanks and literally dedicating an entire day to practicing gratitude. Ideally we are fortunate enough to share the day with those we love and eat and drink until our buttons burst. Last year,  I posted this quote by Rev. Michael Beckwith of the Agape Spiritual Center about gratitude:
Begin to notice what you have in your life that you are grateful for and when you look at life through the lens of gratitude , you don’t see as many obstacles or hindrances , you see potential you see possibilities …”
I have to come back to this quote so many times in my life to check in and make sure my feet are firmly planted in the earth and I haven’t completely lost myself. I struggle daily with this idea of being enough and coming back to gratitude is the only way to climb out of that rabbit hole of doubt, insecurity,  and my own personal demon – comparing myself to other women and their accomplishments. That’s the one that causes me to dig my fingers in the dirt and claw myself out of the hole begging the roots of the trees to hold me each time I fall deeper and whisper, I promise… I get it…I have more than I could wish for….I’m worthy…thank you .

So how can I create an environment for my child where gratitude is the norm? How can I help her so that she’s not finding herself falling down that same hole as I do? No one knows what the future will hold but since she could speak, we started saying this little prayer at bedtime that my Mom’s preschool students would say before they ate lunch:

” Dear God, Thank you for my family, my friends, and all things good. “

That’s how we started. Some nights she would mention every single friend and family member, or mention ice cream cones or french fries. I dunno…I felt like it was a good start. Has that practice prevented tantrums or moments when I’m yelling to her “You are so ungrateful….” They still happen occasionally but when her day begins with me slicing her apples and buttering her toast at 6:30, it might be difficult for my 5 year old to imagine her life any other way. If she has a conniption fit because I say no to a smoothie after a day of parks and play dates and treats, she’s going to get a Time Out and afterwards, we are going to talk about what a great day she actually had with or without a smoothie and I’m going to ask her to name 5 things she’s grateful for.  She’s 5…she only knows whats she’s learned thus far… we’ve been on planes and stayed at hotels and eaten out and had beautiful experiences. If I’m screaming at her “YOU’RE SO UNGRATEFUL!” if there’s no ice cream, Does she even know what that means? Does she have the capacity to understand the cost of airline flights and hotels and and restaurant tabs? Do I just sound like Robert De Niro in A Bronx Tale:” Do you know how many times I have to drive this bus around for you to eat steak???”

In order for her to know when she’s being ungrateful, she has to fully grasp what it is to be grateful. I try to say things like, “It was so nice to spend the whole day with your friends playing at the park and getting a cookie at the cafe “ or “I am so happy you me and Daddy got to go on this special trip together.”  And I need to say things like, We are so lucky you have such a nice Doctor … instead of “Do you know how lucky you are to have health insurance in this day and age kid…you should be grateful!??”  It’s not about the things we have but the people in our lives…the moments we share. Having parents and family and all of moments we have shared have more value than anything we can buy and have delivered to our doorstep. We have to celebrate and give thanks for all of it. From our cozy beds to a day at the beach. In a Thanksgiving week where thousands of Californians are displaced and left with nothing, to say we are grateful for the roof over our heads is everything right now.

Our world is scary and mercurial, but if I can teach my child to come back to gratitude and love in the face of adversity and ugliness, it gives me hope for a better tomorrow.



It’s Up to Us


Issy woke me up at 7 am on Saturday morning which is a completely unacceptable time for a weekend wake up. (If weekday wake up is 6:30 am, 9:00 am is the reasonable weekend wake up time. honestly). I wasn’t ready to wake, so I did what any normal parent would, I gave her a granola bar and an Ipad with headphones and got into her bed with her. I didn’t want to wake up. I knew the Kavanaugh vote was going through and I didn’t want to look at the news…or get pulled into social media …I didn’t want to know it was real. The writing was on the wall…this was a lovely show by the Republicans to try and  act on their best behavior using as many please’s and thank you’s as they could, (well most of  them… I’m looking at you Lindsey) but they never had any intention of changing their vote even after the “FBI  Investigation” was ordered. We all knew.  I just wanted to keep sleeping. But every 10 minutes Issy was still hungry and I couldn’t argue. Who really gets full from a granola bar and a few strawberries anyway? I got up but felt heavy…I imagine I looked like a sketch of a caveman shuffling around the kitchen. I had a huge ball of anxiety in the pit of my stomach…( I just want to go back to sleep I thought -until…it’s all… over- i guess?  the vote? this administration or just this really terrifying version of the prequel to The Handmaids Tale we are living) Who knows. It was definitely my “chicken little the sky is falling ” moment of the week. I wallowed in my shitty feelings for a bit…I let Issy keep watching cartoons (insert electronic use judgment here). I went through all the emotions of the week… all the sadness I felt for her/ for me/ for all of the women who held a space for her in that moment… I thought about the anger and frustration watching the judge defend himself by yelling about sports and work outs and getting into Yale and just wanting to scream…It doesn’t  matter I thought. ..this whole thing…it’s not going to matter unless someone produces a video from this gathering in the early 80’s in the next 5 minutes.  I was boiling over because they are missing the point. They are missing the bigger picture. A man who was selected  for a lifetime appointment to sit on the highest court in the land to make decisions about our rights and our bodies has been accused of sexual assault by more than one woman.  In his statements he talked about liking beer and became absolutely unhinged acting like a child yelling, (and I’ll paraphrase a little), “… But I went to Yale and played lots of sports…This is revenge for the Clintons…..” His behavior alone should have disqualified him for this job. We are talking about the Supreme Court of the United States. Couldn’t we go to the next white guy on the list? I think there were thousands to choose from.  Imagine if Dr. Ford had acted like him?…She’s hysterical…. they would say…she’s just so emotionalShe was hired by the Dems …The Child in Chief would have made a comment about periods or menopause but instead he just chose a general mocking of her at a rally. “indelible in the hippocampus is the laughter, the upoarious laughter…” she had  said. Look, I don’t expect him to understand that sentence but you have to give it to  this President for continuing to show there is no bottom and he sure as hell can always go lower. The anger was oozing out of me but somehow it just made me heavier and heavier.  Then I thought Jesus Christ how does SHE feel today… what is her morning like right now…My Mom had texted my siblings and I an address to send postcards to Dr Ford and in my mind I was going to pen this extraordinary well thought out letter  but what I wrote was simply: Thank you. You are a hero. You are brave. I believe you .

I am not brave enough to go before the nation and a room full of mostly rich, gruff, old men. But I can say me too. And that is why I believe her.
I sealed the letter and sipped my tea. I’m not doing anything today I thought, but I haven’t really been able to do anything since this began…I’ve been in a haze… I decide on a deep clean of our place … maybe if I throw myself into some activity it will be cathartic. I look at Issy with the cartoons and feel guilty but also feel like if I could get her excited to clean, then we could get more accomplished. I give her a feather duster to get started  as I hit up the heavy chemicals in the bathroom. I love this she says. Perfect I think. Before I knew it she was begging me to vacuum the couch cushions. Working together is productive.
What if all women came together…remember when women working together organized the Women’s March? That was powerful. What if we can get the women that criticize other women to stop and get on board.  PUBLIC SERVICE ANNOUNCEMENT: Ladies- stop  hating on other ladies…stop fat shaming and skinny shaming and career shaming and formula feeding shaming; it has to stop. We have to lift each other up here and get it the hell together!
If we have learned anything it is that women and the good men that stand with them NEED to come together and vote for people who represent our values and live by some sort of moral compass and find this administration’s behavior unscrupulous and shameless.
Listen – we are the ones we have been waiting for. We are the ones riding in on the damn horse to save everything. There is no one coming to save us all.
It’s US.
It was always US.

so that one day
a hundred years from now
another sister will not have to dry her tears wondering
where in history
she lost her voice
-jasmin kaur
postcards to Dr. Christine Ford can be sent here:
Dr. Christine Ford
c/o Palo Alto University
1791 Arastradero Road
Palo Alto, CA 94304

Kindergarten Countdown


So here we are at 5… One week away from kindergarten …. I have
yet to complete her kindergarten supply list and until I buy 24 glue sticks and a box of Dixon Ticonderoga pencils as requested, it’s not real.  But once I get those 24 glue sticks and Dixon Ticonderoga pencils – it’s real so I’m just not quite ready to finish this list ok…. because now I’m thinking about the first day of school and the days after that first day when they don’t let us physically walk her into her classroom and I just drop her off at the entrance and she walks by herself . At preschool,  I signed her in and put her lunchbox in the fridge and checked to make sure she had a sweater in her cubby in case she got cold  and an extra set of clothes just in case and …  now  I am absolutely crying . How am I expected to do this? I said to my husband today, “What are you going to do to help me with the first day of school?” Issy piped up and said, He’s going to give you napkins to wipe away your tears .”
This kid!  She’s often more adult than I am. She’s brave and strong and kind and sensitive. She can express her feelings better than most adults I know . If she starts crying out of frustration and I say , “What’s going on? Why are you getting upset”, she is somehow capable in a 5 year old way to express herself. Just last night,  I was reading a book to her and she started crying because it was a new book and she wasn’t able to read along like she often does with other books. When I asked her why she was crying she said “I’m afraid I won’t learn how to read in kindergarten…. what if it’s boring to learn and I am too bored and then I never learn how …?”  And part of me was frustrated because  I just wanted to get her to bed so I could fold the laundry and do some writing and I thought, Jesus Christ just let me read this book to you and then fall asleep. But I thought of her 5 year old mind and how all summer everyone has been asking her: “Are you ready for kindergarten? Oh you are going to learn so much in kindergarten… are you excited? I bet you can’t wait for kindergarten ! Oh you’re such a big girl ! You’re going to learn to read in kindergarten!” Look- she is on summer vacay in LA with 90 degree days ok? She’s living wild and free watching every kid movie available on Netflix and spending hours in my high heels and her Cinderella dress up dress from Aunt Marianne! We’ve been away swimming in pools, hanging with cousins, and going to the beach and trying to enjoy summer. We never  quite got to those flash cards this summer and maybe she’s feeling a little pressure going into kindergarten. She is MY biological child after all …worrying does run through her blood….  Maybe she really is worried she won’t learn to read. It’s all everyone is talking about! Talk about pressure!

I’m trying to stay present and take it all in through these last days of summer. I am so grateful for these years I was able to be with her. I knew it would be fast, but not blink of an eye fast. I think about all the stages I worried about and eventually got through: nursing, teething, weening, potty training, preschool, toddler bed/ big girl bed and NOW KINDERGARTEN!! It doesn’t seem real.

My husband has a tattoo on his forearm that reads This Too Shall Pass. It’s a daily reminder to stay present. This is a difficult one for me.  I want all this Kindergarten anxiety to pass, but not these days where she’s still ours…these days where she wants us to lie down with her when she goes to sleep, where she wants hugs and cuddles, where we all snuggle up together and watch a movie…can these days not pass?

I can remember being out to lunch when she was a little over a year old. The woman at the table next to us leaned over and told us how cute she was and asked her age. I’m sure I said ,”Already 16 months!” as if she were 22. She looked at us and smiled and said, “I know you think these are the best days and they are, but there are good days to come too. As they get older you can sit and talk with them and see who they are and who they are becoming, that’s pretty amazing too.” I think of that comment often because those magical baby days are indeed so sweet and its easy to think those best days are gone. But I still look forward for what’s to come even though each milestone takes a lot out of me.

There is so much joy everyday watching her become herself…but I will 100% be crying on the first day of kindergarten.


If this is America being Great, I’m ready to be Awful again

Is anyone else sick over the separation of families at the border? Does anyone else feel hopeless and helpless despite calling, donating, and signing petitions? Or am I just some “bleeding heart liberal” who wants people coming into this country illegally and “stealing all of our jobs” that so many Americans are lining up to apply for? I was able to breathe a small sigh of relief  yesterday when I read that Judge Dana M. Sabraw ordered that families separated at the border be reunited within 30 days and for children under 5- within 14 days. Thank God for the ACLU….this is a step in the right direction but still… what a disaster.  Let me say this- I GET IT- people are entering the country illegally. But I also get that good innocent people are fleeing their own country’s violence and crime for an opportunity at a better life. They are choosing an arduous and dangerous journey, risking death, for just the CHANCE for something better. Their options are- stay here and die or possibly die leaving, but holding on that they might just have a fighting chance. Can you imagine living in that paradigm? Maybe it’s easier for me because I’m an em-path and an actor by trade, but is that so difficult to get behind? To sit with these people’s circumstances?Wouldn’t any parent want the best possible life for their child? Don’t we all want the best chance at life? Is there not a better way of handling this?  I’m not a politician, or a lawyer, or a community organizer; I don’t have an easy solution, but as a decent human being- I can say that what has happened is shameful and will have its place with the rest of our somewhat flawed history.  Perhaps instead of a summer vacation to Hawaii or a winter escape to Vail- maybe all these angry Americans should travel to poor crime ridden countries to get a better sense of other people’s lives…or even better- just do a little research. They can actually do it on the computer after they troll us filthy liberals on Facebook.
Can we please stop making America so great?
America IS a nation of immigrants…that’s the deal with America. Remember the Pilgrims? They were basically asylum seekers from England.  Unlike today’s asylum seekers who are fleeing violence and crime, they were escaping religious persecution…(Oh and they were also white… so…) Different, but sort of the same.  I remember being in Mrs. Korbelak’s 1st grade class in 1981 learning that America is a melting pot . I think we cut out a pattern of a pot and then added all different color “ingredients”… little construction paper squares..and we glued them in there just to make it clear in our minds.  I think it should be required that all American citizens take a swab of their cheek and send it into 23 and Me to use science to learn about their ancestry. Quick- before science becomes illegal!!!  Immigrants are as American as apple pie. My Dad is an immigrant. My husband is an immigrant. People in my family speak with accents and often in a different language while living in America Gasp! You know why? Because this is America and no one is from here except the Indigenous people who live on little plots of their own land the government “gave” them because our forefathers slaughtered them and wanted the land for themselves. (I’m not sure if this was before or after they celebrated that famous turkey dinner like in my daughter’s Tomi dePaola  First Thanksgving book, I’ll have to look that up….) Look, we ARE all immigrants. If you didn’t make the journey here, your Grandparents did or their parents did… somebody came here from somewhere else, ok?  I realize this is a 1st grade version of history but just in case my little blog gets all the way to the White House, I want the man in the Oval Office to understand it. Maybe all this history stuff is too confusing and hard to keep up with. I get it… It’s a lot of information.
Legal or illegal, at the heart of every immigration story is the the desire for a better life. Can’t everyone relate to that? This desire for an opportunity to live a good and decent life should not be a privilege reserved only for some.  What has me so heartsick is to hear so many people supporting what’s happening – so many Christian people-  act in the most Un-Christian way! Remember that saying, What would Jesus do???  Yea..let’s talk about that for a minute….I feel like Jesus would hand these families a bottle of water and a sandwich and say, You are safe… you made it. Take a moment to thank God you and your children didn’t perish in the desert. Lets connect you with the right people and get you on the right path. I mean I’ve never met him- but something tells me he wouldn’t be ripping nursing babies from their mother’s breast. But what do I know…

I don’t know about you but all this greatness is too much. Let’s make America awful again and show some dignity for all  human beings. Can we  make America despicable again and elect leaders that have respect for the office they hold and have an understanding of our history.  Well, I’m going to start by being terrible and daring to be hopeful again. Remember hope?  I liked hope. Judge Sabraw’s ruling yesterday gave me hope and I’m going to hold onto it right now.


Morning Thoughts

I recently listened to a 2011 podcast of Marc Maron’s WTF featuring Anthony Bourdain… I am still in such shock over his death. How can it be? The fact that last week we lost Kate Spade and Anthony Bourdain to suicide is absolutely baffling beyond comprehension to me. I am admittedly naive and seem to think that people with career success are obviously happy and fulfilled and no matter what darkness lives inside of them, the satisfaction that comes from financial freedom…(from running an empire really)…that kind of success eclipses the darkness; it triumphs over demons or sadness…Christ am I wrong….

When I think to my darkest days a few years back, days I never wrote about because it was too private or I felt too much shame, I felt such a feeling of worthlessness that I thought unthinkable thoughts. I thought unthinkable thoughts and I believed in that moment, that if I had the life of Kate or Anthony, I would feel complete. I would feel worthy. And look at how their lives ended. It’s devastating. We never really know what battles people are fighting inside of themselves and no matter how many memes or inspirational quotes we post and like, so many people are privately struggling. I was one of those people. I can remember a day where I felt the lowest. I look at pictures from this day at a farm picking pumpkins with my daughter where I was trying so hard to create perfect memories, but in between the click of the camera, I wanted nothing more than to disappear completely from my life…I could not shake the sadness…I could not rid myself of this overwhelmingly feeling that I was a complete failure. Everyday I would wake up just hoping to feel better..hoping to turn it around…with therapy and self love and many other factors, things got better. But I’m not trying to write a how to get out of a dark place post  because I’m just not qualified to do so…I just hope we can be better to eachother and better to ourselves. Life is short and no matter how dark the day gets, in the morning, the sun will rise. There is so much hope in a new day and beauty all around us. I feel so incredibly blessed in my life and when I feel myself getting pulled towards that isolating darkness, I go back to gratitude. I look at my child and husband…my parents and family… I see that little bit of green sprouting from the potted plants outside and I feel like the world is full of possibilities. I feel so fortunate to have been blessed in the ways I have and trust that so much more awaits if I allow it. Be good to yourselves. Be as good to yourself as you are to others. You deserve it.

Love is really all around you . Open yourself up to see it. I always find little signs like this when I need it most:


Thank You Chrissy Teigen…


Chrissy Teigen recently gave birth to her baby boy, Miles Theodore and I am overjoyed for her and her family.  I have so much love for the way she lives her best Mom life with so much transparency.  Chrissy Teigen- I adore you and not in a creepy way- in a grateful way and let me count they ways….

I love you  for one of your first post Baby Miles post – a shot in your mesh panties! I have been waiting for this moment!! YEEESSSS! While we’re at it, thanks for tweeting a picture of the perineal irrigation bottle you bought as your “push present to yourself” to keep your lady parts taken care of after you gave birth to Luna. These are things I just didn’t think about during my pregnancy – the POST pregnancy stuff – like your tweet about going home in diapers too. EXACTLY – who knew?! I mean -I knew… but I couldn’t seem to get my mind to think past the labor and delivery part.  I remember getting a post baby tutorial on my new vagina in the hospital. With my shaky legs hovered over the toilet bowl, the nurse instructed me on how to irrigate my beat up parts and showed me the basket of mom diapers and fishnet (?) undies next to me. I really just could not have imagined that moment.Thanks for educating the world. I saw your Mothers Day post one month post partum and you were rocking JEAN shorts-  so your self care game is on point lady. I was sticking to yoga pants for a solid 2 months. Ouchy. Since you’ve tweeted Baby Miles spared you a tear to your booty- you could be in those jean shorts by the weekend lady!

And Chrissy- Thank you for letting non celebrity moms know that you have help in your life that makes it a little easier to get yourself looking good. Thanks for going on the Today show and saying   “We have nutritionists, we have dietitians, we have trainers, we have our own schedules, we have nannies. We have people who make it possible for us to get back into shape. But nobody should feel like that’s normal, or like that’s realistic.”  Thanks to you I can look at myself and say , “you have none of these things – not even your mom in town, and you’re looking pretty good for being over 40 with your drug store cosmetics just trying to do a few sit ups everyday.” There’s this idea that after you grow a person inside of you and go through labor and delivery, the most impressive thing you can be is thin, toned, in shape, and perfect. As if everything we’ve gone through isn’t beautiful enough and worthy of praise. Caring for a person is apparently second fiddle to ending up on a magazine cover showing off your post baby body as if to say Congrats – you’re back to normal again, you are so worthy of our approval!!

I can’t gush about you without talking about your love for food and cooking and eating. I so enjoy your recipe testing process and your guilty pleasure posts. Doritos Locos Taco, your perfect Dutch baby, and a pork chop with breakfast….I like how you live! There was a time in my life in my teens and twenties when I only ate in secret and could never have imagined taking a photo of food and posting it on social media (or even imagining wtf social media was). As a teenager, I thought being thin was the most important thing in life. I was obsessed with the scale, had eating disorders and a really unhealthy relationship with food.  Any joy in eating made me feel shame. I didn’t want to admit to liking food or eating food; I was all “no thank you” if I was at a party or out to eat. Food was something private that happened alone in the dark with just myself. I think one of the reasons I fell for my husband was because we cooked for eachother, (him more than me I’ll admit) , and enjoyed food together. It’s one of those simple joys. Obviously you don’t start everyday with fries dipped in ranch and your husband’s fried chicken, but you are open about your appreciation for a Shake Shack burger and I live for those moments Chrissy Teigen!  Woman- you are healing my inner child and saving teenage girls everywhere.

And Chrissy, thank you for opening up about post partum depression. I read your essay in Glamour magazine and was moved to tears. You shined a light on something that has left so many people in the dark for so long. I so admire you for your candor. You have saved lives by opening up that’s for sure. Motherhood is so wonderful and joyful- but can also be so isolating and lonely- all the while there’s a part of you saying “I don’t want to feel like this…I shouldn’t feel like this..” I was not diagnosed with post partum but I experienced dark days (and honestly still do), where I just feel alone and don’t value myself as I should.  I am so sorry you went through this, but there is comfort knowing that no Mom is alone that is suffering because I think that’s the worst part- the what’s wrong with me part…as if it’s only you. With social media, people tend to only show their most perfect moments, but you have used it to show your picture perfect moments and the real ones.  I could go on and on but I’m a totally normal person and I don’t want you to think I’m completely crazy-But seriously from the deepest parts of my soul THANK YOU. Thank you for always being your beautiful authentic self . Never change Chrissy Teigen…Never ever change…The Moms of the world need you right now.





*Photo from Miguel Reveriego for Glamour magazine


Kinder Registration Has Got Me Thinking…



I started this blog when my daughter began preschool as a way to work through my emotions and also to give myself something to focus on – to sort of take back ownership of my own life, not that I really wanted to. I really like being needed; I enjoy not having to  focus on myself….I take to the role of being  consumed by my child and family. I cherish  this role and quite honestly, it’s a REALLY good way to NOT deal with me. (It, of course comes with its own issues… please see most every blog I’ve posted where I don’t feel I’m worth anything because I am not a Mom/ Millionaire Mogul . Here’s to  feeling worthless but also loving being needed… haha ..Oh Motherhood why are you so complicated?!)

As I sort through the paperwork for Isabella’s kindergarten application, my nerves are running a muck.  The sands are passing quickly through the hourglass of the full time mommy and small part time job days and I’m devastated.  Truly. “Have you thought about going back to work when she’s in school everyday,” I read the text from my sister this morning. My stomach turns at the thought of being in an office everyday again. Oh my God- what am i qualified for at this point?? It’s been 5 years since I sat behind a desk. All I’ve done is raised a human..does THAT count for anything… How does that translate on my LinkedIn profile I wonder…  I strip the beds and start laundry… so much to do… “Really think about what you want to do my Love…you want to get back into acting? You want to write a book? Whatever it is, do it and really focus on it,” my husband says… He’s right. “I know,” I say. He goes to work and I cut and marinate the chicken for dinner then move on to cleaning the bathroom.  I’ll just keep finding things to do I guess….

We could… have another baby? I mean.. we could try. Could that be the answer? Is that where my talent lies? Motherhood? What if THAT is what I am made to do? Make and raise people? Or is this the world’s worst excuse to figuring out what I’m going to be when I grow up? Is this a normal reaction to kindergarten applications?  Anyone? We’ve  just gotten rid of the crib and little toddler bed. My daughter has a big girl room with a double bed and cascading white canopy for God’s sake! We just ordered a damn teepee for her room! I mean- we are moving on over here- well some of us are.

My sister in law and brother in law just welcomed their first child last week and you don’t need a degree in psychology to attribute some of my baby thoughts to that. I mean really…her soft baby skin, the baby gurgle sounds…her little toes… the smell of her head! She’s sweet perfection.  (I had 36 hours of labor and a nasty tear that prevented me from getting in and out of bed without assistance and STILL it was the most magical time of my life.) I loved every minute of those days. And- my Mom was here for a month…could she come again? Wouldn’t that be fun?

Seriously , do other Moms feel this way? Is this the very reason people keep having children? Could it just be that I miss the days of having a baby the same way I miss being in Turks and Caicos with my husband? Do we need another vacation? I mean, maybe…BUT  that could lead to another baby though… let’s be honest. (Wouldn’t be the first time- Thanks for the memories Paris – oh and the kid!)  How do you tell what this feeling really is? If I were on a TV series right now, or on a book tour,  would I wish I were home with a baby instead? Umm…Maybe… probably actually.    I mean if you weigh out all the pros and cons, I can’t say with an overwhelming yes that it’s a perfect idea- there will always be things to worry about…but is it the worst idea?? And why is Isabella asking- no begging– for a baby sister or brother everyday? I’m telling you- this kid is GOOD. I actually feel guilty about it- like I’m depriving her this lifetime sibling bond that both my husband and I have. But since when did we start taking advice from 4 year olds?? She is a wise old soul though…Does she know something we don’t?  Damn it babies- why do you have to be so precious and innocent? Why do you have to come with so much joy and hope and promise??

I seriously don’t know if I should work on my resume or see when I’m ovulating.  Well…I’m going to vacuum and think about it…


For the second year in a row, I prepared for Persian New Year (Nowruz) by making  our version of a haft seen table.  I wasn’t sure if I was going to do one this year but after visiting family the other day and seeing their table, Issy was really excited to “decorate” as well.  After seeing her excitement, I decided we must celebrate this beautiful Persian tradition.

The two of us  braved the crowds at the Persian market this Sunday where she learned the Farsi word ,  bebakhshid, which means “excuse me“, a necessary phrase during last minute  Nowruz shopping. She said it over and over with such pleasure that I didn’t once get annoyed that we were in shopping cart gridlock.  Shame on me for only knowing 4 words in Farsi after 10 years with my husband;  but between my apparent stellar pronunciation of bebakhshid and my little one who is literally a mini version of her Dad, everyone spoke Farsi to me! (Oh my goodness am I passing as Persian ??? How exciting!)  It was Issy , I’m sure, because usually after I say Salam, my whiteness is a dead giveaway!

So what is the Haft Seen table that we made all about? It literally means seven S’s and everything on the table symbolizes something. As Issy helped me find bowls and plates, we went over the meanings. The table has to have 7 items that begin with the letter “S”.

The main items are :

  1. Somagh (sumac) – This symbolizes the color of sunrise
  2. Serkeh (vinegar) – This symbolizes age and patience
  3. Senjed (dried fruit from the lotus tree)  Senjed symbolizes love
  4. Samanoo (sweet pudding) This symbolizes affluence
  5. Sabzeh (sprouts) Sprouts are the symbol of rebirth
  6. Sib (apple) The apple is for health and beauty
  7. Sir (garlic) This symbolizes medicine

There are other things you can add to the table as well. Last year for example, we had a goldfish (mahi) , which symbolizes life, (I decided against one this year as the poor thing fought for its life as soon as we transferred it from the bag to the bowl  and barely made it to the New Year). This year we also had an egg, (tokhmeh morgh) for fertility,  a candle (sham) for enlightenment, and a mirror (aayne) for light and reflection. We also included the Quran, a hyacinth (sonbol), a Spring flower, and coins , (sekkeh)  which symbolizes wealth and prosperity. I absolutely loved working on this with Issy !

Nowruz marks the end of the old year and beginning of a New Year coinciding with the Spring equinox.  Happy New Year ! Happy Spring! Here’s to New beginnings!



Christmas Cards and Coupon Codes

It’s that time of year again…you’ve finally recovered from Thanksgiving and you’re already receiving Holiday cards in the mail. Did you do yours yet? Did you already do your ethereal forest photo shoot with angels riding on freaking unicorns and sprinkling your family  with snowflakes while little elves serve you hot chocolate ?  No?  You didn’t? Me neither. Everyone knows you need to to be finished with that by Halloween if you want to use it for your card!  You have to edit and face tune and switch your kid’s head  out from another photo shoot all together to create the perfect photo to match your perfect social media feed right?  But if you’re like me, you’ve waited too long and now you’re up to the wee hours of the morning trying to get your card order in before the sale ends in 3 hours and 7 minutes that’s flashing on your computer screen as you keep entering coupon codes that have “already been applied” to your $200 (are you effing kidding me) order ….codes that “cannot be combined with another offer”.  The truth is, there will be another sale the next day and about 4 coupons in your e-mail tomorrow!  (or your  Supermom Boss Babe Sister will log into your account and miraculously get your bill reduced by half because she’s some sort of on line/deal getting whiz or has a secret life on the dark web for all I know…)

For me, I stopped trying to do photo shoots with Issy. I used to dress her up like a doll and prop her up on a boppy and literally do nothing but snap away and have hundreds, or… you know …15 shots to choose from . But after 2 years, she wouldn’t  sit still and I found I  needed a production team to support me to make her pose and smile. For the second year in a row, I have opted for the Santa photo. Yep… Before I had a child, I vowed I wouldn’t support the myth of Santa with the over commercialization of Christmas and instead focus on the season of giving and sprinkle in some baby Jesus knowledge here and there, but that’s about as easy as trying to keep your kid away from tons of processed sugar and a love for blue icing, (go ahead… try to be that way when you’re at a birthday party every Saturday for all eternity)   Also, God knows we need to be able to use Santa to threaten our kids with no toys or we will never get through the end of the year!  “Santa is Watching” has replaced “I’m calling Daddy” as the new power play move when I  find myself in a deadlock during daily child parent negotiations  for the month of December. Santa is how teeth get brushed, veggies get eaten, and toys get put away. Once “Santa is Watching” starts to lose it power, then you move onto Elf on the Shelf and fill your Instagram and Facebook feeds with your creatively staged scenes. (I’m talking about you my dear sister…) If that’s the case, you likely have a Christmas Card with a photo in a forest with unicorns…I’m not quite there yet, but …there’s always next year!


They take the picture, you pick your package, and get a USB. That’s the way to go!


Then Your Sister helps you make this for a good price while caring for 3 kids and making dinner…


Thanks Elizabeth!