Shittiest Day Ever…Literally

You ever have one of those days? You know…the kind where it doesn’t even seem like real life and if someone were to tell you what was going to go down you would never believe them?

That was today.

It started like any normal day…as they do at 9-months pregnant, with an internal at my OBGYN (which is SUPER fun) to check for any progress. From there, I had grand plans to go home, get some work done, do laundry and continue nesting.

However, I walked in to see our chihuahua in position to poop right there on my floor. I rushed him outside, with the grace of a hippo, and we made it just in time. Then when I put the little fucker down, he proceeded to puke all over the floor. Guess he traded one bodily function for another.

I texted Jason and he asked me to drop him at the vet. BTdubs, you should also know, that our other dog just came back from the vet yesterday after having ANOTHER surgery from tearing a second ACL in a month. We singlehandedly keep the vet in business and he’ll probably be able to retire 10 years earlier because of us. You’re welcome, doc.

So here I am, already deviating from my plan, and en route to the vet, when it happens. Spike (the chihuahua) pukes all over my seat…right between my legs, which are in a semi-permanent ajar position on account of my protruding belly.

I moved him over to the passenger seat and that’s when he began to shit his brains out…all over my seat…as I’m driving and simultaneously screaming. Because he wasn’t just expelling waste from his body, he was stepping in it, getting it in between every crevis of his tiny paws.

But wait, there’s more.

I put him in the backseat just praying for traffic to let up so I could get to the fucking vet and he then performs shitshow part deux ALL over the back seat, and then jumps on the center console and drops more between my seats. I’ve never seen so much poop come out of an 8lb dog.

At this point I am crying and dry-heaving. I pull over into a random office parking lot, call my husband and start speaking in tongues. I was 100% hysterical. Jason is no moron, heard my voice and left work immediately (probably because he was a little scared of my exorcist-level emotion…as he should have been at that moment).

As I waited for him, I tried to clean up with the travel-size packet of baby wipes I had in my car, gagging the whole time, and having cars pull up asking if I was ok. I’m guessing the scene of a very pregnant woman, outside her car, all doors open, with a dog on a leash and handfuls of shit-covered baby wipes, is cause for concern.

When Jason arrived, I passed that dog like a dirty fucking baton and peaced-out to the car wash. Obviously I had to drive with the windows open because of the smell, and as I was on the phone crying to my mother, what happens?? A bird, on a wire above the red light I was waiting at, took my cracked window as an open invitation to ALSO take a shit right on my headrest. I wish I was kidding. When I told my mom what was happening through my ugly crying, she was laughing so hard she could not form a coherent sentence and most definitely peed her pants.

At the carwash, I pulled up and they greeted me with the obligatory, “How’s your day?” They did not get the obligatory, “Great! How about you?” in return. What they did get was a rant about how my car was covered in dog puke and shit (did I mention my seats are perforated?) and I needed them to make it like brand new. They just stared at me…then at my belly…then at me again.

I had texted a couple friends about my current situation and one of them basically saved the day (at least for the 2+ hours my car was being detailed). Shirley came to get me so I wouldn’t have to wait.



Friends pick you up in times of need. Good friends snap a picture of your misery.


My spirits were IMMEDIATELY lifted just being in her presence, because she does shit like put our karaoke song on without missing a beat.

I accompanied her to the mall where she had some business to take care of, and also hoping that the walking would put me into labor. Almost from the moment we got there, I got looks from mall goers ranging from horrified to lascivious. I don’t know why there is a fear of very pregnant women in public, but there is.

In addition to the crowd ogling me like my baby was crowning, we also saw the usual onslaught of Boca’s finest carting their dogs in strollers. But today was different, because there was a woman pushing around a cat. A CAT, you guys. So naturally we had to follow her into the AT&T store for Shirley to covertly get a picture of her, because how do you not?!?


When my husband called to check-in (read: make sure I wasn’t humming and rocking myself in a dark corner), I told him I might not come home and may either check myself into a mental ward or spa… game-time decision.

But instead, after Shirley sniff-inspected my newly washed car like McGruff the Crime Dog, I gave myself a small pat on the back  for supporting a local business…


And said “Boy Bye” to shitmageddon.

Spike is currently on car probation until I emotionally heal.

Here’s to a brand new, shit-free day, tomorrow!

Making “Parent” Friends – New Parental Advisory Podcast Episode

Who’s ready for episode 5 of the Parental Advisory Podcast? 

On this one, Daddy Mind Tricks and I talk about the struggle of making parenting friends – and some other stuff, because let’s face it…we like a good tangent.

Check it out!!!



My Husband is NOT My Best Friend – New for The Huffington Post

So I have a confession…my husband is not my best friend. And we are both totally cool with it.

Read all about it in today’s article for The Huffington Post!


8 Relatable Things About “Bad Moms”

One of the most talked about/anticipated movies in the carpool line recently is Bad Moms. And for good reason.

We’re used to seeing blockbusters detailing the raucous humor behind a bromance, but let’s be honest, most movies with female leads end up gravitating toward the cheesy side (except Bridesmaids…that was a winner).

Well…all I have to say is that I was lucky enough to see the advanced screening of Bad Moms and it did NOT disappoint. (Also, Dear Mila Kunis, I’m more in love with you now than I was before and that’s A LOT!)


While it’s hilarious and maybe at times a little exaggerated (but seriously, not by much), it’s such a good representation of motherhood on so many levels. The characters range from single mom to working mom to SAHM and there’s literally something everyone can latch on to in all of these women.

After practically peeing my pants  from laughing so hard too many times to count throughout the movie (thanks a lot childbirth), I came up of a list of the most relatable things Bad Moms brings to the table.

1. It’s hard to find real mom friends and you have to weed through some real bullshit personalities (and even get burned) to find them in the end. But it’s worth it when you find your true momsquad.


2. If you’re in a marriage where your husband expects you to do everything for the kids (especially just because you are a SAHM), you better nip that in the bud and level the scales sister.


3. Everyone needs that one inappropriate mom friend with no filter who just does not give a shit.


4. Alpha PTA moms are the worst and can suck the happiness out of any situation.


5. Raising kids is effing hard.


6. All moms need some time away from the kids to let loose once in a while.


7. You never know what is going on behind closed doors – with someone’s kids, in someone’s marriage, with someone’s psyche – so don’t rush to judgement and be kind to one another.


8. As moms, all we can do is the best we can; and your best may not be mine and vice versa.


So do yourself a favor mamas, see this movie as soon as it’s out.

And when you get to the hoodie/sweatshirt scene, if you do not suffocate from laughing uncontrollably, know that something is very wrong with you. Very wrong.





Birthdays, Buses, Bathroom Hoses and Black & White Cookies

My friend Dale has a party every year to commemorate his birth. They are not normal parties like you or I would have where a group of friends gather for dinner and drinks. His are just a little different. There’s always a dress code. The room is bustling with skinny girls 20 years my junior with asses for days. There are usually some surprises – like half-naked dancers, robots with smoke guns, women wearing dresses made from bottles of alcohol and other things that probably require city permits.

I’ve talked about him several times on the blog and have actually covered his last couple of birthday parties….because they are that epic and warrant press coverage. I basically get the exclusive every year. You can kind of say that I am his official blogger.

I actually know that he considers me a true friend (which is fair since I have known him for 20+ years and we have had our share of adventures) because I’m still invited even though I am old compared to the overwhelming majority of the guest list. There’s actually a small group of us V.O.P.s (Very Old People) who stick together and adult in the corner somewhere probably talking about shit like our mortgages, kids and gas prices.

So last night was the annual birthday celebration and it actually had an official name – The Black and White Cookie Party. The dress code was for women to be in white and men in black. Which is so unfair to begin with to an almost 40-yr old-woman. I mean, we all know black is the slimming color. White is basically for women who have no cellulite and have not birthed a child. But I listened because I am a rule follower (most of the time) and I want to remain on the invite list without rocking the boat.

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The party was set to be a 23-square-foot mansion with a pool bigger than my home, owned by someone with a name eerily similar to King Jaffe Joffer from Coming to America.


I’ll admit, I was a little more excited about the house than the party for a hot minute. Seriously…when would you ever walk into a 23,000-square-foot house in your life?

But let’s talk about the invite for a second so I can point out some of the inherent differences in a party a normal person would have. You guys…there’s a hashtag, a sponsor and the option to bring swimwear. That’s like Yeezy-level shit. Can you effing imagine the looks I would have gotten if I busted out my swimwear – a momkini with a big, billowy cover-up and monogrammed baseball hat?

But my dreams were quickly shattered as this house was on the naughty list for throwing too many raucous parties, so there was a last-minute venue change. If this happened to me, I would literally panic and take all the xanax, but Dale is different. He’s not a white, Jewish girl predisposed to anxiety (even though he has soft spot in his heart for them), so he rolled with it and had his people (let it be noted he has people) send out information with the new deets.

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With all the uber talk, I got nervous and even checked with him about parking when I realized there would be walking, because that greatly affects shoe choice. You can’t rock car to curb Louboutins if you have to hoof it even 500 yards, am I right?


So it was on to a different mansion and the good news was that this one was on the water, so now we have the option to take a boat…as our host so conveniently points out in the update below (sidenote: there were more updates for this party than a CNN ticker and as someone who is Type A, that’s totes my jam). My boat, unfortunately, was in the shop so it was a no-go but the good news was that there was a shuttle from where we were told to park. Also, mad props for the reminder not to get into random cars – my neurotic mother would give you a gold star.


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And this was the exact moment I realized that Dale incorporated a scavenger hunt into his party this year! Super fun!!

That informative map with the pin above that says “park here” may seem super cut and dry, but it’s a giant mall. Soooooo, we pulled into one of the multiple parking lots and started the scavenger hunt. We looked for other people in black and white. We searched for clues. Polled mall security. And looked high and low for the elusive shuttle…then we we found it!


Just kidding, that wasn’t it, but after we parked, we picked up a stray dressed in white, added her to our wolfpack and walked into a neighborhood where google maps on our phone told us to go.

Yay! We found it and the birthday boy (oh, and the “shuttle” BTdubs which was parked in the driveway of the house which did us no good.)


We soaked in the balmy 95 degree breezes from the intracoastal and sucked on ice chips like women in labor to stay cool. Dale is after all, a Miami Heat personality so for all we know the “heat” was a chic and purposeful part of the theme? I quickly mobilized for pictures before the facade broke down and I still looked cute and the jew fro emerged. It’s like being effing Cinderella and getting the good shots in before the clock strikes midnight and you turn into a pumpkin.


We even took an updated picture because these two wanted to prevent me from using the old one of the three of us from a Dale party back in the day, but how can I possibly retire that?

My friend Karen and I took a little stroll to check out the house. You know to look at the finishes, crown molding, flooring and piece de resistance…


Guys, the toilet came fully equipped with contraption to hose yourself down. This house had EVERYTHING. From going above and beyond in the bathroom…


To a refreshment table that was ON FLEEK!


No but seriously, there was amazing music, a bar, black and white cookies and Dale…which is ALL you really need to pull of a great party.



Happy birthday buddy! I love you lots and you will forever be my side chocolate. I can’t wait to see what next year has in store!

My Heart Belongs to 90s Hip Hop

I do not live in the past, expect for one aspect of my life…I love all things 90s hip hop. All things.

My iTunes library is basically 93% everything previously played on Power 96 and 99 Jamz back in the day. If you get in my car you will most likely hear Sirius channel 47 (unless I have to change it because they are playing Bone Thugs or Ja Rule for the 1000th time. That or I am in such a momfog I forgot to turn off Kidz Bop.)

And if you remember, I attended last year’s Legends of the Old School concert and loved it (even despite some of the baaaaaad performances). So obviously, when it came back again this year with a different lineup, I was down like two flat tires.

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So here’s a little recap:

69 Boyz: Booty music is my jam and these guys brought it. Period.

JJ Fad: I would have been fine with Supersonic and just Supersonic.

TKA: Oy. It felt like they were on stage for 3 hours and 95% of it was dancing and singing other people’s songs. Listen…I love a good cover, but cmon.

Rob Base: It Takes Two. Enough said.

DJ Laz: If you grew up in Miami and don’t love the Pimp with Da Limp…did you even grow up in Miami?

Tone Loc: His voice is EXACTLY the same. I could have used a little more Tone and a little less of his hype man. Also, I think I need a hype man.

Bel Biv Devoe: Guys, they are almost 50. FIFTY!! And they can still kill it on stage. They were by far the best.

Lisa Lisa: I still don’t understand why she closed the show and to be honest I was so done from TKA’s 12 hour performance that we left after one song.

As far as it being hosted by Kid n Play, they actually did the Kid n Play so that was a win.

Here are a couple of things I learned/observed from this year:

  1. There are morons who think it’s normal to throw a giant blanket down in the middle of a huge crowd that is ALL standing and have the nerve to get annoyed if someone steps on it.
  2. DJ Zog proved that the art of scratching is truly a lost art. Nobody brings turntables and vinyl to DJ anymore. Instead they bring a MacBook Pro. Technology is awesome but so is scratching.
  3. Tone Loc still gets groupies and they are disgusting. They had a bunch of ladies from the audience come up on stage during his performance and there was one girl who had a maje wardrobe malfunction the second her feet hit the stage. Full nipple and it was gross. Not even nice nipple. She was unphased that her titty was flapping in the wind too. If that happened to me, I would cry and then move. Anyway, she was all over Tone Loc, grabbing the mic (and I’m sure she had a handful of something else backstage) and at one point was visibly whispering in his ear. Let’s just say that she did NOT exit the stage with everyone else and was on stage drinking. I’m willing to bet that Wild Thing was not just a song that night.
  4. Sweet Jesus, does booty dancing at 39 do a number on the hips. And hips don’t lie.
  5. My husband’s Biggie shirt is a chick magnet. No seriously, random girls came up to ask if they could take a pic with him.biggie

There were even a few moments of crowd participation, including one to test our 90s hip hop street cred. Spoiler alert – I passed.

And it wasn’t ALL hip hop all the time. There were even some rogue (but amazing) music moments that had everyone singing along.

But the BIGGEST takeaway, is that regardless of race, age, marital status and a million other identifying factors…90s hip hop binds us all.

And I did exactly what my mom always tells me to do…

I’m Smitten With This Redhead

So there’s this gal I know and she’s kind of awesome.

I met her during my first marriage through my then husband. But I was not looking forward to the meeting to be honest. We were living in Manhattan and meeting his “sleep away camp” friend and her husband for dinner.

We lived on the UES, which may as well have been the burbs compared to her funky apartment near the meatpacking district. I already had a preconceived notion that because of said apartment, she was cooler than me and I was dreading a dinner where I would have to pretend to be interested in this couple and fake being engaged in obligatory conversation. Just put me out of my misery, I was thinking.

Then the weirdest thing happened.

We TOTALLY hit it off. I’m talking about sparks flying pretty much from the first hug hello. I can’t tell you what it was, but there was just this instant chemistry and I knew I liked her. I went from dread, to not wanting the night to end, in about 6 seconds. And just like that we developed a bond that grew into an amazing and unexpected (at least from my end…she probably thought I was awesome before she met me ) friendship.

Then when I got divorced, that thing happens where your “couple friends” pick their sides. And I’ll be honest…I thought for sure I would lose her. She was his friend first after all. But I didn’t!! She played Switzerland like a boss and maintained a real friendship with me. It’s not easy and I don’t know how the eff she did it, but I think that’s when this fiery redhead with major moxie stole my heart.

She also happens to give the most sound and insightful advice I think I’ve ever received. It’s equal parts supportive and realistic, never sugar coated and always authentic. So it makes sense that she (a lawyer by trade) chased her dream and a vision to become the most incredible entrepreneur, coaching women to create work/life synergy and fulfill THEIR dreams.

Stacy Boegem, my dear friend, was born to do just this.

When she launched her business, I wanted to help wherever I could (partly to support her and partly to physically see her do her thing because as I’ve always said about her…when she talks, you listen…to every damn word.) I videotaped her first event at a small kid’s playspace in boca, wrote some media pitches for her, and last year registered people at her CRA Live (Connect Relate Activate) event and then watched in awe as she took the stage. She’s so smart, charming, magnetic and knows how to command the shit out of a room.

And while this post may sound like a Stacy Boegem lovefest (ok it is a little), it’s so much more. But I feel so strongly about giving you the context of our backstory instead of just passing you a link to an event and telling you to check it out. Because in addition to a wonderful friendship, I don’t even know if she knows how much she has helped me professionally, and that it all came to a head at last year’s CRA Live. I have never really sat down and discussed it with her. So she’s kind of hearing this for the first time like you.

(If this were a movie, there’d be some wavy lines and trippy music designating a flashback moment…in 3, 2, 1.)

Last year, I sat at the  CRA registration table handing out name tags and checking people in, and when the room was full (and it was), I took a seat with other attendees at the table. In the interest of full disclosure, I was not intending on learning anything that day. Yes I was miserable at my job and yes I had been blogging for a while. But I had no “career” path in sight, so a transition just wasn’t top of mind for me. I knew I wanted to leave my job at some point but it felt soooooo far away, like a pipe dream.

I listened to Stacy. I listened to her other speakers. I watched other women furiously scribble notes and excused myself from most of those exercises because I just didn’t think it applied to me. I was there to help not really participate.


But then, I wrote something down.

biz card

Right then and there, I decided I needed business cards (because in my head, that’s one of the things that make you an “official” business. And I also came up with my own kitschy title.) It may not mean much to others, but it was a moment for me.

Then came a point where we were asked to write a letter to ourselves in the future talking about where we thought we’d be. Here’s mine dated January 2018.


Guys, it’s barely 2016 and I have literally checked off every single item on that list. Every. Single. One. Yes, some are ongoing, but seriously, I mobilized like a mofo after this event. Consider me “Activated”!

Was I scared? Yes. Shitless.


Because let’s be real. Hopes and dreams do not pay the mortgage. And I like my house and living in it.


The day after CRA, I hired someone to design a logo and ordered business cards. And from there it just snowballed. I started collaborating with people, submitting guest articles to really big sites, growing my social media presence and putting myself out there.

All while working at a job I hated that was slowly sucking my soul out of my body, praying for justification to leave.

One day, after a harrowing experience at work, filled with all sorts of public humiliation, I lost it. I came home sobbing. Snotty, ugly crying. I was inconsolable. Lost. At the end of my rope.

I called Stacy and told her I couldn’t take it and I was quitting the next day. She basically told me she understood where I was coming from but under no circumstances should I quit. I had no business built yet, and while she had no questions about my desire and ability to succeed on my own, it just wasn’t time. She asked me questions I didn’t even have answers to, and that’s when I realized she was right.

So, I listened to her. I spent the next several months busting my ass after full days of  work, to build my own little “side business”. I would come home and put feelers out to people I had already been doing some freelance writing for. After some old school hustling, I had 3 paying clients. I was burning the candle at both ends just waiting to be “ready”to pull the cord and become a full-time writer. Those clients sent me other clients and before I knew it…it was time.

I took the leap.

I now run my own one-woman shop. I get to write everyday for clients who are appreciative and productive. And, I also get to focus on my own blog and writing as well. It’s a win win and the fire was totally lit under my ass at CRA Live 2015.

So, naturally, I am going back to CRA Live 2016 for seconds, to support my friend (and this time purposely learn even more so I can do some next level shit). And here’s the best part…you too can go, and even get a discount if you use the code WHINE during registration.

So, join us at CRA Live 2016!!! (It’s in Fort Lauderdale on April 7th and 8th).

Registration closes 3/23 so get on it and register here:

And don’t forget to use the code WHINE for 20% off. (I’m hooking you up like cable)

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You may not know it, but you totally need this fiery little redhead in your life. Trust me.


You Had Me at Pinot – A Night With OneHope Wine

I love having friends over. My gaggle of girls is like no other and to me there is nothing better than having a girls’ night IN, cracking some wine open, eating and laughing. Actually, I’d rather pop bottles in my home than in some roped off VIP area with chicks wearing tube tops as skirts (that’s so late 80s BTW, I did it and there were called Multiples) at the trendiest club on SoBe.


So when I was contacted by OneHope Wine to have an event at my home, they had me at Pinot (Noir).

Not just because I love wine. Because I totally do. But I LOVE what this company is about. Every bottle you purchase donates proceeds to a different charitable cause (autism, breast cancer, providing clean water, ending hunger, and the list goes on).

So, I know what you’re thinking…the wine probably sucks.

Well, it does NOT. It’s good you guys. As a matter of fact to put it in perspective, I’m committed to red wine like Jax from Vanderpump Rules is committed to being the world’s douchiest douche. (If you’re not watching that show, and like a good train wreck, you are totes missing out by the way). However, their chardonnay was so delicious that for the first time in at least a decade I bought a bottle of white. That’s a BFD for me.

One of my other favorite things about OneHope are the glitter bottles.

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If you like shiny things, and I definitely do, they are GORGEOUS. Like too pretty to open gorgeous. So pretty and with such purpose that they have been featured on Oprah and in Allure.

Alina, from OneHope led us on a little tasting tour, explaining not only the notes of the wines but also about each charity involved.

And, one of the best parts was that 15% of any half cases or cases purchased that evening went to a charity of my choosing. It was a no-brainer for me. I selected Bright Pink for very personal reasons. My mother is a breast cancer survivor and any chance I have to give back to charities that help against the fight of this shitty disease, you better believe I’m going to do it.

My childhood friend, Rotem, also a breast cancer survivor, is an ambassador for Bright Pink and was able to attend, share her story, explain what Bright Pink does…and drink with us 🙂

I couldn’t help but look around the room at many times during the night and be proud. Proud to be having this event with OneHope and proud of all of us for taking time out of our weekends to do something meaningful and amazing.

Thank you to all who came out and supported the important causes OneHope is involved with. Thank you to Alina. Thank you to Rotem. And most of all, thank you to my mama for being the strongest woman I know and coming to support me at an event that started when you are usually in REM sleep (just for the record, it started at 7pm).

I urge you to check out OneHope Wine . What they are doing is pretty damn spectacular.

To order you can visit:

Peace, Love and OneHope







There are some scary mommies on Scary Mommy

So yesterday was a BIG day for Whine & Cheez(its). I got an article published on Scary Mommy. As a writer/mom blogger, that is a BFD!

The downside of having a piece of yourself released into the wild is the crazy comments you can get. (You should see the comments from when I posted an article on LinkedIn with a couple of curse words…oh boy). I don’t know if there are just women out there looking for a fight, but my god….some of these ladies are angry.

Thankfully, the overwhelming majority of the feedback was super positive and supportive. And that makes me smile and feel really warm and fuzzy. But there are always those women who seem to troll the interwebs looking to get some aggression out. And yesterday, a handful of them found my article. They couldn’t have actually read it though based on their comments. Maybe they skimmed it? Maybe there are some words that trigger them to go off on a rant? Maybe they drank one too many red bulls?

I do not expect everyone to agree with me because I certainly have strong opinions and don’t agree with everyone. But I am always caught off guard when people take something away from one of my articles and use it to launch into me on a very personal level. It’s pretty much the polar opposite of constructive criticism.

Rather than cry about it (there were times I was teetering), I decided to have a little fun. So, in the style of when celebrities read really hateful tweets about themselves aloud, I’m going for it.

Here’s a short vid of me reading some select comments from some really scary mommies on Scary Mommy.


P.S. My mom is going to be PISSED that I did not put lipstick on. Oops!

I Made it On Scary Mommy!

Scary Mommy


If you are a mom and have the internet you know Scary Mommy...because it’s an AWESOME resource filled with no-holds barred stories and articles from women everywhere. They are honest, raw and real.

Check out my new article, ‘Dear Undivorced Person, Stop telling Me What to Do With My Kid.”

It’s not easy being divorced with a child. And while most people in my life get it, there are times where I encounter pushback and ignorance. The reality is that I won’t get a sitter if it’s my weekend (unless it’s a major event, like you are getting married or dying). Every time my child is not with me (which is half the time), there’s a part of me missing and I hate it. It’s unbearable actually, but I try to make the best of it. So when I do have her, I want to be with her every second instead of dumping her with a sitter. I always find it amazing how people can’t recognize that. To me, it’s so simple so I have a hard time when people try to shame me about not changing plans, etc.

And since Scary Mommy is a site with a bazillion readers, I knew there would be comments. OYYYYY the comments. Even amidst the support from women who exude positivity, I had to stop reading because my brain hurt from seeing how ignorant some people could be. Everybody is entitled to their opinion and certainly does not have to agree with me, but I will never understand the nastiness from complete strangers when I put a little bit of myself out there and discuss VERY difficult things to try to shed some light on subjects that are not common for everyone. I totally get why celebs don’t Google themselves.

Anyway, eff the haters….because I’m published on Scary Mommy and that makes for a great Monday!!

today was a good day