posted by Momo Fali on November 2, 2014

family (2)

These people. These goofy, blurry, imperfect people to my right are what make my life sane, clear and ideal. Okay, not sane exactly, but they do keep my head on straight. They are my purpose. My gift.

They are why I get out of bed every morning and wash dishes every night. They are why I’m buried in laundry and, occasionally, smothered with love. They are my everything.

Is that healthy? Probably not. But, I don’t care. All of my eggs are in this kooky basket of misfits and I’m fine with it. Before a concerned reader emails me and tells me I’m not living my life right, let me say that I take care of me too. I started running again, I hit the gym a few times a week, I write, I took a painting class, I started coloring thanks to a generous gift of Coloring Animal Mandalas from my friend, Melisa – so, I’m not neglecting myself.

But, those people up there? They lift me up and they keep me grounded at the same time. And, you can’t ask for a better atmosphere than that.

Strong Blogging

posted by Momo Fali on November 1, 2014

Every year, around October 25th, I lose my mind a little. Maybe it’s the impending, scary holiday, the change of seasons, or the fact that National Blog Posting Month is right around the corner.

Yeah, it’s the latter.

Once again, I have made the commitment to blog every day for the month of November. This includes Thanksgiving, because who doesn’t have time to roast a turkey, bake a pumpkin pie from scratch, host dinner, and whip up a witty conversation piece? *points at self* *THIS GIRL*

The reason is not because I have a lot to say, but rather because I don’t. This is the greatest exercise for blog writing that I’ve ever known and as I get older and wiser (but, mostly older) I’ve come to realize that if you don’t work to strengthen something, it will atrophy.

So here I am, on day one, scrambling to get a post up after 11:00pm. Oh boy. It’s going to be a rough 30 days! I hope you’ll be along for the ride.

I volunteered to watch a scary movie with my husband the other night. I hate scary movies. I haven’t cared for them since seeing Amityville Horror at the tender age of EIGHT (thanks, Aunt Connie). I can’t even watch 48 hours when I’m in the house alone.

But, my husband said if I’d watch Jeepers Creepers with him we would turn the lights out and there would be snuggling and air-popped popcorn, so I had that going for me. If there had been Raisinets, I would have submitted to a double-feature. He likes me because I’m easy.

So we settled in and went in search of Jeepers Creepers, which we couldn’t find even though both of us had seen it listed on HBO, or Netflix, or somewhere. This left us with surprisingly few options given we were just days away from Halloween. Get your act together, cable. What good are you if you can’t make a women pee her pants with fear?

After scrolling through the selections, we stumbled across Children of the Corn. I had never seen it, so it seemed a good choice. You can’t go wrong with Stephen King, right? Wrong.

The acting! The music! The special effects! The 80s!

I could make a better movie with my iPhone and my dogs playing the lead roles. I mean, honestly, it didn’t even turn me off of running between rows of corn, which I’m pretty sure will never happen, but if it were to happen I should be terrified, which I wouldn’t be. So, if you see me running between rows of corn, you’ll know why I’m not scared.

Now I feel like I need to watch more horror movies, because maybe they aren’t scary at all and I’ve been missing the chance to have a good laugh. Next up: Leprechaun in the Hood.


A First Time for Everything

posted by Momo Fali on October 21, 2014

This post was inspired by Netflix. Come see what we’re watching.

My kids, both born premature, started their life journeys by consistently missing milestones. Crawling, walking, talking (though, I can attest they have both caught up markedly in that regard), running, jumping – pretty much every chart in their baby books was left untouched until months after a child would typically have it filled.

Needless to say, these breakthroughs have been a huge deal around here. A daughter who didn’t crawl until her first birthday or a son who didn’t speak until he was nearly four years old was cause for long-awaited celebration. They weren’t (and in some cases, still aren’t) just milestones; they are rather enormous landmarks. I’ve been tempted to erect monuments.

Now that they’re 12 and 15, the milestones are less about their existence and more about fun. For instance, my son was recently able to join us on the 93 mph Millennium Force roller coaster at Cedar Point. His next goal is to be tall enough to ride Top Thrill Dragster which goes 120 mph and launches you 420 feet in the air. Don’t judge me because I verified with his cardiologist, TWICE, that it was okay for him to ride them. They are  intense, but we love them and when he was finally 48″ at age 12, he loved some of the big coasters too.

With Halloween on the horizon, we’ve started enjoying the experience of watching scary movies with our daughter. Poltergeist didn’t faze her. Probably because she only knows Craig T. Nelson from “Parenthood” and she doesn’t have any concept of The National Anthem playing on the television at 1:30am, then going static for the  night. *shudder* The TV always had to be turned off before the static started! Always!

Of course, the milestone I’m most looking forward to is when my daughter will do the dishes without being told, or when my son learns to keep the shower curtain liner inside the bathtub. Those moments will be GREAT! Some I’m less than thrilled about, like my daughter going off to college. Gulp. That one is going to be rough. Like sandpaper on a rug-burn rough.

One thing is for certain, these are the things that make memories. You don’t remember the fifth time your kid rode a bike, but you’ll never forget the first.