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29 Mar





I’ve been thinking of things that I wanted to write about for a while. And today, after reaching a small goal that I’ve been working on for what seems to be forever, it was suggested that maybe I have something to say.  Today I reached Wonderland…that was the goal.  It was actually a weight loss goal I made before I turned 40.  One that has eluded me and has seriously pissed me off.  But in this journey to my “Wonderland”, today I realized that I have been redefining what that means to me the whole time I have struggled to achieve it.  And as I stared down at my toes on the scale today (the ones that need a pedicure so badly), it wasn’t the number I was after, it was the feeling of accomplishment.

Ohhhhh, did you think I was talking about Alice…about a book?  The movies maybe? I mean, maybe a little since I seem to have some connection.  Today you can just call me Alice.  And I’m damn proud of it too.

When I tell you making the scale change and accomplishing my goal has eluded me, this has been some ridiculous internal fight for me since before running NY in 2016.  It has been a long cruel game I’ve played with myself.  All over a number. One stupid asshole of a number.  I have stared at myself in the mirror, I’ve stared at the numbers on the scale.  I have picked my imperfections apart, both physically and mentally.  Why  couldn’t I hit this fucking number.  And why was it so important?  I mean I run half marathons, I’ve run a marathon and I want to run more! Why was I not worthy of a stupid number? And why was I being a whiny bitch about it?

I wasn’t worthy of the number because it wasn’t about the number.  And the truth of it is, I don’t deserve to accomplish anything I’m not willing to make changes for.  After sitting down with someone over the past two months and going through my actual food and tweaking a few things,  it wasn’t so much about what I was eating, but how I was treating myself.

I was treating myself the way I sometimes allow others to treat me, like I’m not worthy.  Like I’m not worth it. And total truth…I was wrong.  I am worth making changes. I am worth making great choices. I am worth being treated like I matter.  I am worthy of attaining any damn goal I want.  And it shouldn’t be dictated by others.  I matter…let those words sink in for a second… I MATTER. Say them to yourself and and really feel it. It’s life changing. I matter….I really matter. You really matter.

See, being in ” Wonderland” means absolutely nothing if I don’t feel like a matter.  My nutritionist looked at me the other day.  She said ” You matter…you matter. You are more than a number.  You are not invisible.”  So of course I was a smart ass about it.  “I thought we were here to talk about food, for crying’ out loud!”   But food and emotion are so connected, especially in today’s world.  So she looked at me and repeated the same.  “YOU MATTER.  You are not invisible. You matter.”  I didn’t even realize it but maybe somewhere down deep, as tears ran down my cheeks silently, it touched a nerve.  It must have because today, I was blessed enough to see what Wonderland was. To feel it.  To be proud, and to know that I matter…and that my Wonderland is a big picture now, not a small goal, and definitely not a number.

It’s your big picture too…remember I’m not here alone.  And your Wonderland may not have anything to do with a number,  and that’s what’s so awesome about it.  Hey!!!! Alice!!!   It’s your journey, your fall down the rabbit hole…it’s YOUR Wonderland!

My Wonderland…is now my journey as a whole.  It’s my peace.  It’s the place I go in my mind to escape the ordinary and mundane.  It’s where I’m not invisible, or maybe I am if I choose to be.  It’s my feeling of home, inside my heart. The pieces that make up my heart..that make me smile and make me feel I can do anything. It’s whatever goal I set big or small, but it’s definitely not about a number.   And whatever it is to you, let it be…and be proud of it.  Why????

Because you matter.  And there’s not one part of your soul, mad or not, that isn’t special.  Never forget it…ever. And when you are in search of your “Wonderland” remember one thing…

Before Alice got to Wonderland, she had to fall.


Until Next Time,

DP Babbles




Who made you feel that you’re not worthy?

28 Feb

2D16F77C-5897-49F0-9EEF-ED99C84AF3FB.jpegA question was posed to me yesterday.  It wasn’t random but it was certainly unexpected.  “Who made you feel that you’re not worthy?  Why do you feel like you’re not worth feeling accomplished?”  (and no it wasn’t a therapist…but I wouldn’t be shy to tell you if it was. I’m an advocate of talking it out and helping yourself…mostly)  Regardless, my cocky defensive answer was quick. “I do feel accomplished…I’m good.”  and then the stare down…”your eyes don’t say that…”  Well, damn you, lady. Damn you for making me think.  I don’t need more thinking.  Don’t look at my eyes!!

I know my answer…and the specifics don’t matter.  But the fact that everyone who reads this probably has felt this way does.  See,  I’m not over here just letting it all hang out so you can analyze what the hell is wrong with me.  I’m saying it because its something to think about, something to help each and every one of us grow.  Most of us at one time or another have felt that way for a reason or two.  So,  I want to pose that question to you: Who made YOU feel that you’re not worthy? Why don’t you feel like your not worth feeling accomplished?  You don’t actually have to tell me, but I’m all ears if you need one or two. We learn the most about ourselves by actually listening.  Some wise person probably said that…I’m not quite wise.  A little smart and sometimes witty…not wise. Whatever you’re answer…I’d like to tell you (as I have 100 times before) that you are worthy.  You do matter.  But only you can figure out how to get through your answer.

I’ll be a little vulnerable…just a little.  Don’t get all excited about it.  Some of my answer:

I did…I am the person who made me feel that I’m not worthy.  And why do you ask?  Because for every struggle to get up and tell life it punches like a bitch…there’s at least two struggles to knock you back down.  Because there are people in life who will see you as disposable.  And sometimes it’s expected and sometimes it’s not.  And there are people who want you to see your worth, but don’t treat you like you’re worthy.  And because sometimes you have to remember to take some things with a grain of salt even if it bothers you. Because life keeps happening and sometimes it gets the upper hand, and sometimes you get the upper hand.  We can’t win all the time.  I’ve allowed life to get the upper hand.  I’ve allowed people who clearly don’t give a whole rats ass about me…to get the upper hand.  That makes me 100% responsible for allowing that.

We can, however, dig our heels in, dig them in and say…fuck that.  I do matter.  I am worthy.  I’m sure its a conscious choice we have to make every day.  Much like every habit, we have to make that decision every damn day until it becomes second nature.  Take ownership over your answer and work it out.

The opinionated people in life will always be there. There’s someone reading this right now who thinks me writing this is stupid.  And if you feel that way, please stop reading.  Don’t waste your time.  There will always be people in life that discard you.  Who show you that you aren’t worthy or less important.  However, remember this… THEY ARE NOT WORTHY OF YOU!!!!!!!!!!!!  After all, we all know (most of us know) we aren’t the center of the Universe, but we are capable of giving great energy to the Universe…and making a difference.

I believe there is a reason for everything.  There is a reason I was asked that question.  And I absolutely know the things bothering me.  I also know that I hold the key to my own success.  That I am loved, and that there are those I may not get to speak to often that give a shit.  I’m appreciative of those who feel able to show love and support.  I feel honored to give love and support.    And I will slowly work through my answer.  But you have to promise to try to work through yours…after all, we are all in this together.

They say that the eyes are the windows to the soul.  I wish my window wasn’t so damn clear.  I’m over here getting the upper hand on life.  Because you hit like a bitch, and slow and steady, I’ll show you who’s boss.


Until Next time,

DP Babbles



Dear Old Me…

25 Jan

43AC18AA-1926-447B-92F5-4154E981A6A5.jpegTonight a friend from work posted some old pictures,  One of them was me several years ago, the old me.  I cringed a bit.  I always do when I see old pictures of me. I quickly passed them by and got busy doing “mom stuff” . All of a sudden a text from another friend came through it was that picture with the words ” just a little reminder…”  My response?  “That poor girl, she doesn’t know what she’s been missing. I have a couple of things to tell the old me.” So of course she replies…”so tell her…”  So here you go. Maybe you can relate. Maybe it helps some of you understand me better…maybe it will help some of you understand yourselves better.

Dear Old Me,

You’ve come a long way baby!!!  And I promise you’ll be so damn proud of yourself.  You have so much to give and I never want you to give up.  The girl you are now is so much stronger than she used to be.  And your thinner face and curvy body aren’t all that has improved.  You have inner strength, I promise you.  Just don’t give up.  You’re going to be more confident and sassy.  You are fucking beautiful…and no one need ever tell you that. You’re gonna learn to just know you are.  You have worth.  You are deserving of love and effort and respect.  You are not a pudgy pal. Stop calling yourself that.  Stop making fun of your body.  It is strong…and girlfriend, it’s only getting stronger.

You’re going to try new things. You’re going to learn so much more about the person you are.  Few people will ever really “see” you (a really smart person told you that), but you’re going to learn that it’s ok.  You’ve got depth and soul and wit. Don’t ever let anyone  take that from you. That’s your gift.  It’s worthy of sharing. It’s worthy of treasuring too.

You’re going to run, you’re going to show up and you’re not going to stop.  Don’t give up.  I’m going to keep saying it…don’t give up on yourself!!!  You have to get more uncomfortable than you have ever been to get where your going.  You have to be true to yourself.  You have to be honest with yourself.  You have to give up negativity.

It’s not all fun and games though…  I’m going to tell you a secret.  The journey you will embark upon is full of some dips in the road.  Some of them will bring you low enough to question if you really are worth it.  Some of them will break you in pieces.  Some will drag you backwards a little (don’t worry, it will inspire a dainty forearm tattoo… ) Some days, getting out of bed will be a huge effort.  Those are the days you’re going to learn the most.  There will be days where you question everything. Whether you can be successful again.   You will…you just can’t give up.  If you’re smart enough to come up with witty vagina jokes at three am on 30 minutes of sleep, I assure you that you can figure it all out again.  You will be successful.  You will love yourself again, but you have to fight. And there’s gonna be tears.  Fight like the bad ass you are…and don’t ever let anyone bring you down.   You are worth it.  So cry if you have to, but fight…  You deserve to be fought for.  Fight for yourself dammit!!!!!

Don’t you ever forget that the only person who ever needs to love you…is you.  You are complete all on your own, sista.  Let the real you shine… because even in the broken pieces, you reflect light.

I love you..always…

The me I am now…and the future me

PS You have a great ass…so its ok if you make fun of it a little 🙂

So all of you, keep on keeping’ on.  I firmly believe you’re worth everything.  Never give up on yourself. ALWAYS be true to who you really are.  You are worth fighting for.

No regrets, Until next time,

DP Babbles


Wishes for my peeps…

3 Jan

B61A652E-6152-4CA4-BD47-682C4B7DB91D.jpegI have been thinking of the things I want for the new  year.  As a non believer of resolutions, I have decided that although there are things I want for me; there are things I wish for my friends. I have several friends going through things and my hope is maybe they will ring true for some of you…and that my wishes for you may be granted in the new year. I mean I don’t know if the wish maker gives a shit about my wishes, but since they are not for me, maybe he’ll make an exception.  (Yes, I think it’s a male, because clearly he likes to fuck with my head, so male it is.)

For the friend who life keeps happening in spectacular fashion to.  And not let’s celebrate spectacular fashion either, like the “something’s gotta give” fashion.  I wish you peace. I wish you more happy moments than sad this year. Above all I wish you the power to find the pieces of you that make you whole.  Notice I said pieces that make YOU whole. We can’t go around making others whole anymore. Sometimes we have to worry about us because no one else will.  I know I sound jaded, but I’m not.  I’m just thinking no one cares about us more than us…and truthfully, most don’t care at all.

To my friend that struggles with what the right decision is and when, I wish you knowledge and courage to figure that out.  Since I can’t make any decision for anyone.  I want nothing but the best for you and you deserve your heart’s desire.  So hopefully the universe helps a sista out.

For the friend who’s heart has seem to grow a little colder, at least from my view, I wish you warmth and shine.  You are worth more than you can ever imagine…don’t let life make you think otherwise.  I see so much goodness and love in you, and I pray and wish you don’t let it go. Your soul is remarkable. Don’t ever forget that.

To my friend who doesn’t quite believe she can do it…I wish you a whole lotta can do.  I’d like you to believe you can kick ass and accomplish your goal.  Get goin’ girlie…it’s all in you.

For my friend who is tired; who goes from sun up to the wee hours. Who hangs on by a string but never lets anyone know. I see you.  I wish you rest, and to run away to a beautiful island with a cabana boy who serves you drinks on a silver platter while you lay in your hammock over the beautiful clear blue waters. (Ok, I kind of wish that too…because that shit sounds amazing!!!) Never underestimate how kick ass you are.

For my friend who does for everyone, and never does for her.  I wish you a year of just doing you,.  Because seriously, you give so much, and for all the giving you deserve sometime to discover just how amazing you are.  You’ve told me a million times “you do you!”  And so I wish you that. Put you first, chick!!!!!

I think that if we look hard enough, there’s a little of us in all of these friends of mine.  And no my friends are not imaginary.   I know some of the best people…I feel so blessed.  It makes up for all the fuckery and negativity the world seems to hand out these days.

I do have some wishes for me… but in the big scheme of things, they just aren’t the biggest deal.  If they have escaped me for this long, what’s another year?  I’d much rather send you some positive vibes from the universe.  I’m putting it out there. Take it and run with it.

Wishing all of you the best this year…whatever that best may be.

Until Next Time,

DP Babbles


My Children’s Christmas Lists: Keepin’ It Real Edition

15 Dec



Christmas is around the corner and while some of you are loading up on a tree full of gifts to bombard your kids with, some of us are just trying to keep our shit together until this magical day.

I’m not here to judge. I don’t give a rat’s ass if you load up on presents or not. If you can then great. If you only stick a couple of those bad boys  under the tree, that’s perfectly fine too.  This is not a “I’m not going to be that parent who:” judgement zone. I’m not that asshole. If you are…back it up to the next blog post. If you want to have some fun and hear what I’d like to give my kids for Christmas, read on and share in my joy… (but don’t tell my kids I’m not in the Christmas spirit, I’m faking it til I make it this year)

For those who don’t know, I have a 7 year old boy and an 11 year old girl.  My 7 year old boy is the entertainer, the comedian. The things that fly out of his mouth always have some wow factor, as do some of his Christmas list requests. At first it was 20,000 Pokémon plushies.  All of them, Pikachu, Pew Pew, Lickaduck. Some of you are googling these names right now. Please don’t bother. Because I didn’t.  I’ll draw these little assholes for my kid to color when he asks, but I’m not learning their names. I’m certainly not buying a plushie that looks like a cat with a dildo coming out between its legs.  Do you know why? Because in 10 minutes he’ll change his mind. And it’s going to be my tired ass picking the plushies up. Do you know what I want to get him?  His own dust mop and broom so when he comes home from school and empties his sandy shoes out onto the family room floor,  he can clean his own sandy mess up.  Do I have a broom and can I make him do it with mine. Abso-fucking-loutely. But if it’s “his toy”, maybe it’ll be more fun. Better yet, maybe even his own vacuum.  It only lasted an hour before he came out with a new list.  The golden stuff: Golden bedspread, Golden curtains and golden slippers with golden pajamas. My seven year old wants to become the youngest pimp in America, ladies and gents…or he’s just letting a little of his Italian (Nutalian) ass show.  Dude, I’ll buy you some golden drawers if you do any of the following: lift the seat up when you pee, flush, brush your teeth without a reminder…did I mention lift the seat when you pee? You want the whole golden bundle?  Get up in the morning without a hassle…I’ll lavish you with a golden bedspread for crying out loud.  So now I’m just wondering if I can get him something that will reach out and slap him in the face if he doesn’t raise the toilet seat. Not a hard slap either, so put your phones down and stop dialing Child Protective Services…just one that will say, hey bone head,  pick up the damn seat!

My daughter  was very specific with what she wanted. And it was only a few things. Specifically she wanted an IPhone 7, a case for it and a new pop socket.  She’s a good girl and seriously deserving. I was THAT Mom, though. The one that said, my 11 year old isn’t getting a phone. I was that judgey parent that some of you are being right now.  Keep judging me…I don’t give a shit. Seriously though, I’ll tell you what I want to get her but first, please know she’s almost taller than me and now the same shoe size as me. Do you know what that means? What’s mine is hers! Damn it! This week it was chilly ( Florida chilly) and she came into my room every morning to raid my closet. “Mommy, can I wear your jean jacket?” “Mommy, can I wear your Orange Theory jacket?” “Hey mahhhhhhh, how about your Jersey Shore running jacket?” Hey girlfriend, you’ve got 20 sweaters in your wardrobe…how about those? So, I think I’m just going to wrap some of my clothes up and put them under the tree. Maybe I can get a few new outfits for myself out of it. I also think I’m going to go out and buy a new pair of kick ass heels, wrap them and put her name on them. When she opens them on Christmas, I’m going to act super excited for her and ask if I can borrow them (I mean, she can’t walk in them anyways! I’m helping a sista out!) If she likes my taste in clothes but doesn’t like when I buy her clothes, you know what “they” say? TREAT YO’SELF!!! I kid, mostly. There definitely won’t be one thing under the tree for me. What I want won’t fit under there.  I don’t want anything material. Get your head out of the gutter.

This won’t be the most extravagant Christmas in terms of quantity, but truly, even though I’m bah-humbug this year, I want to see the magic in their eyes.  And all of you, do whatever the hell you want. This chick isn’t judging. And if anyone else is…buy them a plunger to help them get the stick out of their ass.

Really though…have the happiest of holidays and may your days be merry and bright…if they aren’t bright, I can’t promise help this time….I’m working on putting batteries in my own lights to brighten shit up (did you guys think that was a vibrator reference? It wasn’t! It’s all about rechargeable now…get with the program!)

In closing I was just wondering if getting the game Twister for your kids when you really want it for yourself because you were deprived as a kid and never had it is bad? (Asking for a frie….just kidding, I bought it for me…I’m not even sorry about it!) Who wants to play?

Until next time!

DP Babbles




24 Nov

E59097E4-D635-4673-BCB6-992A478420FBThis blog post isn’t a woe is me post. It’s definitely not a feel bad for me or give me attention post.  It’s just a this is how I’m feeling post. A you may not be alone post. Maybe quite possibly, I am not alone post.

I spent the night before Thanksgiving working. For those who do not know I am a Pediatric ICU nurse. While I had my own patient to take care of, I spent a part of my 7P to 7a hanging with a boy who I’ve spent most of my nursing career taking care of.  He was very known to us.  Yes..was.  Because although his nurse, our Doc and the rest of us pulled together to save a life, his wasn’t meant to be saved that night.  Although his mom was unable to be there in his last moments we were. I held his hand and I told him what Heaven would be like.  I seriously hope the God doesn’t make a liar out of me.  I told him it was lots of pizza and that he’d finally be able to play ball, maybe even ride a bike.  I even said at 15 he could quite possibly pick up a gal or two with that handsome face of his.  I don’t know if he heard me, or heard any of us tell him it was ok to go. But he did go, surrounded by us…his nurses.  We prayed him up to Heaven. It was bittersweet because he isn’t in pain and he is no longer bed ridden with no quality of life.  However on the other hand…who wants to end their shift with the death of a child and post mortem care.  It’s not something I could easily shake for the day.   I mean, don’t get me wrong. I was thankful to be with my family and love up on my kiddos. But I was exhausted.  All I wanted was a little sleep in a dark room and to emerge feeling better.  However it really go as expected.   I emerged with the “put your big girl pants on and tuck it away”  attitude, knowing full well, I’m a terrible tuck-er.  This isn’t always easy on the people around me…and so I struggle.

See, I’ve been struggling lately with this question of who am I.   Funny part is…I know exactly who I am.  I’m the same chick I was 50 pounds ago.  The lighthearted but emotional gal with a naughty sense of humor.  I wear my heart on my sleeve though and that is not a gift…at least I don’t consider it as such these days.  There are parts of me that are deeper that few see or will ever understand but I think that’s ok.   Unfortunately, there are people who see me as something other than who I am, but not in a good way.  And although I’m not perfect, I’m not malicious or evil.  I may indulge in wine and tequila sometimes, which doesn’t make me less classy or an alcoholic.  However I suppose the lesson in all of this to me is that I’m not supposed to care what people think of me.  I’m supposed to do my own thing and be my own person and the right people will love me.  I know I have people who love me and I am thankful.  But really…I just can’t understand those who are hateful. Those who hurt others,   It’s not one person specifically, just a string of small things.  The small things add up.  They either add up in a good way or a bad way.  Yesterday just kind of tipped the scale for me the wrong way.

So today, I realize that I can’t turn back time.  I can’t make control how people see me.  I can’t control the parts of me that others see.  I can’t control others ignoring me.  I certainly can’t control those who don’t like me very much.  And I have to learn that I have to let go of that or I’m going to be one miserable chick.  That’s not me…and I don’t intend to let it be.  I want to be the kind, loving, full frontal hugging chick with the naughty sense of humor.  The one with sarcasm and wit that not everyone has to understand.  I want to be me…the one who has parts tucked away unseen but grateful keep to myself.  The one who will always love words…poetry, quotes, perhaps some mythology and yes, even smutty novels and stories.  I will be the one who wants to write and connect with others.   And that will be me.  I will still wear my heart on my sleeve…and hopefully the right people will love and understand me.

What does this mean?  Well, I think that we all just need to flock to our own crazies.  If i’m not one of your liked people…then leave me alone. Don’t be my friend on Facebook, Instagram…. or in real life… Just leave me be.   If I am then, l…I’ve got jokes for days.  No one needs fake friends or people in their life.  So if reading this helps you realize this…if one person  can read this and say…”This bitch is crazy but she makes sense!” , then I’ve done my job.  I unfortunately can’t make others be less of a dick, but I’m sure we can all gain some balls to let go of people like that.

I do know that some people don’t mean to be like that. I can usually differentiate,  but once in a while…its a little overwhelming.

So, consider this a post Thanksgiving “Thank you” for everyone in my life who sees me.  For those who see all of me and accept it.  I’ll keep you right in my ticker…

Until next time…

DP Babbles

I get it… really I do…

11 Nov


So these past few weeks I’ve been really dissecting myself. I’ve been thinking about my relationships with others and how my character flaws could be my undoing, my own little Greek tragedy. But then, we all have character flaws.  That’s kind of the point of it. I don’t think it makes any of us victims, it just is what it is. I think taking responsibility for your flaws make life more tolerable. Like, yeah bitch…sometimes I suck, I just do. And that’s life, because we all suck sometimes. (I’m so eloquent, I know…) . Shouldn’t we just be able to do that and move on?

Am I the only one who overthinks about the things they do and say and then feels dumb about it for the longest time? I do that. Sometimes to the point where I’d like to cuddle up under the covers and not talk to anyone?  Or I just keep talking and make it worse. I never mean to…but it happens.

I could be a lot to take at times.  I’m a fusser. I run my mouth. I worry about people  and their well being. I want to make things better. I want them to succeed.  This really could sound like total bullshit, but I actually mean my own bullshit. I care, and when I care…I care big. I’m sure it’s overwhelming for some. I’m trying not to give a shit, but I do. True damn story.

Here’s another one: Are you mad at me? Are you mad at me? I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.  This one I’m trying to work on. I’m an expert at apologizing when I didn’t do anything.  And then when I have done something, I over apologize more. Sometimes I find myself apologizing when I’m actually owed an apology.  I actually have a backbone, but the pleaser in me wants to smooth life over. And it’s dumb. Because I deserve better than that. Am I my alone in this? I know many people like this. And I know they feel the same.

I’m a piece-y texter. I text in scattered thoughts. For those who don’t do that, I could be considered the ultimate thorn.  But again, im not the only one.  And I never mind, but some people mind. And some accept my flaw just fine, while others don’t.

I worry about what others think of me. I feel like I could ruin a friendship by doing one thing wrong. That being imperfect isn’t allowed or accepted. That should never be the case… if so, I think it’s time for new friends. And I think that but then immediately it’s my fault.  And I’m going to make it better. So I say something stupid and then want to crawl under a blanket. It’s an exhausting vicious cycle.

Sometimes, I run my mouth with hurtful sarcasm. Or I just know how to say the thing that’s going to set someone off. I never mean to cause a ruckus, but it happens. Do I think I’m alone…nope. But somehow,  I do.

This all goes back to the “I’m not perfect” attitude. If I fuck up, please tell me. I’m going to fuck up. We all are. But be respectful…have respect to tell me. And treat me with respect. Am I really the only one who feels that way? If you messed up and didn’t do the right thing, apologize damn it…and mean it!! Communication is a funny thing these days.  I’m not apologizing for breathing any longer and nor should you…but you should feel respected and loved by the people in your circle.  If not, find a new circle.

I read quotes a lot. I have favorites just as some songs would show how my heart beats. I love words. That’s not my flaw…it’s makes up the best parts of me.

Tonight as I was taking care of a patient’s son it kind of inspired me to write.  She was with her significant other and she looked at me and said “I’m really sorry I kept asking questions and being worried. I’m trying not to be a helicopter mom. I’m sorry…”  So I told her “It’s perfectly fine. You’re his mom, you’re supposed to worry. If that’s what a pain is, then as women, we are all pains in the ass.” And she giggled while her S.O.  laughed heartily. “Not all of you are pains in the ass, crazy maybe, but not pains in the ass. Without batting an eyelash I said “We’re not crazy, our reality is just different than yours!” And she lit up and said “down the rabbit hole…we all have a rabbit hole. Thank goodness for a Alice, right?”  Magic…only because somehow it’s been popping up lately in life for me over and over.

So here’s the down and dirty:

I’m not telling you what to do, but know it’s ok to admit you have flaws…and learn and grow from them.

No one is perfect…but for fuck’s sake… it would be nice to get an apology when you screw up. It’s ok to say I’m sorry I hurt you.  I’m sorry I disrespected you.  At the same time, you can’t allow people to disrespect and hurt you over and over…know your limits.

Make an effort for your people. Life gets busy, but really… a small effort goes a long way.

Don’t let go of those who see your magic. I’m so lucky to have people who have magic in my life. And while We’re at it.. tell them. If you see magic, don’t forget to tell them, you never know what’s going on behind the scenes. That could mean the world to them.

I’d like to believe there is magic in me… I think I’d like to believe there’s more magic than flaws.

I suppose all we can do is just keep trucking along… let me know if you need some magic.  I’ll find it in you…I promise.

Until Next Time,

DP Babbles