This is not a “pity blog”. I’m not looking for calls or messages. I don’t want any cards or shout-outs about how “it could be worse” or “I’ve got this” because right about now, I don’t really agree. I don’t “have this” and it’s truly all relative. Oh, and by the way…I hate Google. Sorry, for those of you who think Google is the greatest invention ever created. I hate it. Despise it. In fact, I think Google is what makes “semi-normal” women like me turn into fucking neurotic,

Kids love me. All kids. There is not a kid in the world that doesn’t. Look, do you know a kid? Put them in front of me and see if they love me. (No. Forget it. I already can tell you…they DO.)  All children think I’m the most amazing human being ever known to man. Except for my boyfriend’s kids. They. Hate. Me. It’s ok, he knows. And he feels terrible about it…I guess. I mean what can he do? He can’t make them like me, Y’all. Of course, he says they do like like me, that they

No pumpkins. No candy. No costumes. Ummm…well that was a great Halloween, Guys! What the hell? I texted the boys yesterday from the Pumpkin Lot. (Yes, I know I’m not allowed to text them while they’re in school…but this was important!) I asked them if they wanted to carve pumpkins. I mean, it was Halloween after all and I was totally craving those dang pumpkin seeds! Here’s what I got: “Um, Mom. We are too old for that crap.” Wow. I looked at my phone and texted back, ”Of cou

So, last weekend I turned forty-six. Forty-fucking-six years old. (At forty-six I’m surprised I can even remember my age.) Honestly, last year after I turned forty-five everything went to shit. My eyes went blind, my bladder started leaking when I laughed, and my skin dried up like the Sahara Desert. For real! I couldn’t find a cream thick enough to replenish the loss of fluids. In fact, I have older friends that have warned me that in the next few years my skin on my face is

Don’t cry, Jen. You knew this was coming. So stop it. Just get ahold of your damn self girl and face it. Jennifer, you have TWO teenagers starting high school and there is not a fucking thing you can do about it! Right? I. Must. Deal. Even though all I want to do is to stop time and go back to when they were about to begin Kindergarten….when they were young. All impressionable, their minds like sponges. Their eyes were wide open to possibility and hearts were unscathed. When

And gloomy… Pretty gross out today. Perfect for driving. NOT. So, of course…I’m only that much more freaked out as I watch Jonah drive away in the Prius with the STUDENT DRIVER sign on the top. Oh fuck. Not only do I officially have a kid old enough to be driving, in two weeks he’s starting high school. I can’t stop crying. In fact, I haven’t stopped crying for days. I’m filled with so many emotions. But why? Is it because Jonah is growing up so fast, or that I am? I’m turnin

Not gonna lie. In fact, I was sexually assaulted. Yup. I was teased, too. And emotionally abused by my sorority sisters…and I’m pretty fucking sure I was date raped. After all, “No means no”, right? Well, it was supposed to. And that was all in my Freshman year at MSU. So, as I watched the Netflix Mini-Series 13 Reasons Why, I was overwhelmed with emotions. The same exact ones I remember having back in college, when I heard that I was video-taped by a frat guy without my cons