So this Obama might be onto something. Apparently it's easier to live in hope than in fear, so why not? I'll give it a go if you will.

Another dude who did this was pretty well was Martin Luther King. Sure, he ended up with a bullet in his head, but how would you rather live? Like a boring robot until you're 101 or a fearless warrior who chooses spirit over the judgment of others, and even more detrimental, your own mental floggings?

An overachiever by nature, this is my year to forgive myself for anything seen and unseen from my past, do my best, laugh a little, enjoy my kids, my marriage and get comfortable in my own skin - warts and all.

Sure, I've always been myself, but I could go without the teeny bit of second guessing. Questioning the third margarita or bucket of Pink and White Animal Cookies? Good second guessing. Whether or not I should feel bad about not dealing with someone who is toxic? Bad second guessing. It's okay not to befriend the world.

It is for selfish, and yet unselfish reasons, I choose to focus on myself. In being strong within, I am the best mother to my children, wife to my husband, friend and daughter.

In closing, here is a small conversation I had with Stink and Pip on the way to church Sunday.

Me: "Tomorrow is Martin Luther King Day. He was a man---"

Stink: (Know it all sigh) We know, Mama.

Me: Oh, really? Who was he?

Stink: He was brown.

Pip: Like Barook LaBamba!

Stink: Yeah. And he told people to be nice. And he spoke to crowds. Then he got dead.

Me: Not good. Not good at all. I can read you stories about him if you'd like - to show that even in death a good heart remains alive.

Pip: Okay! Is that on a website?

Me: Sure, I can find lots of stories on websites about Martin Luther King.

Stink: And video games also?

I wasn't sure what to think about that last comment. But I laughed.

And I'm not second guessing my reaction.

More of my writing can be found daily at BabyCenter and Good Housekeeping.


Dear President to Be:

Did you know you are about to run our country in a few days? Just a friendly reminder in case you are still busy putting away Christmas decorations.

Also, your mother-in-law is going to be moving in. (And some of you thought the economic crisis was a killer.)

You're in for a rough road. And while I might laugh at some right winged KFI hosts who referred to your gathering with conservative journalists last week as yet another example of elitists who kiss each others’ behinds then go home to bathe in buckets of arugala while "massaging their man boobs" (come on, that's pretty funny) I still like you. You have ideals. You have hope. And personally, I just don’t want to think of you tweetering your presidential nipples. You go right ahead and put that energy into the budget, 'kay?

I can’t offer much more than my support and great love for this country. But I can offer you a rocking dinner if ever you’re in Chatsworth. Preferably on Tuesday – that’s when we eat tacos. Bring Michelle. And the kids – Stink and Pip are fun to hang with and make awesome play dates.

But don’t bring the dog. My husband is pretty anal about his lawn. I don't care if it's historical feces - it's still crap.

Tips from a mom who runs her own small country in the burbs? Get full of rest, not full of yourself. Try not to let the negative turkeys get you down. Go on and pardon few turkeys while you're at it. But don't make us stop eating them. You enjoy your arugala, let me enjoy my silly Thanksgiving traditions.

My predictions for the next few years? Oprah will get a condo in Washington, some of us are going to have to tighten our belts financially (which will help us tighten our literal belts also) there’s going to be some new jokes on Letterman, and the best drama on TV is going to be on CNN.

In closing, if you’re interested in being a guest poster on Pass the Zoloft, we’d love to have ya. But I'm a tough editor. If you can't be funny,you're gonna have to go back to your White House gig.



More of my writing can be found daily at BabyCenter and Good Housekeeping.


This might be hard for ya'll to believe, but here's a teeny weeny insight into the depths of my Zoloft stained soul: I'm kind of chatty.

Like, "I love people" kind of gab type.

As in, "Let me talk up the bartender while on a date with my husband and find out the scoop on his ex-wife, his current girlfriend, his three sons (one possible with a different daddy... can't be sure but he's paying the bitch alimony anyway) and his three legged gay poodle named Tinkerbelle while Rex drools into his margatini" chatty.

But I'm trying to reign in the banter fest a bit.

My sister, a few months back, while sitting at the beach and sucking down Diet Cokes big enough to drown a miniature dog (not Tinkerbelle - kind of a Chihuahua sized mug) told me that I didn't give enough eye contact when we spoke. "It's annoying. I haven't said much before because I know how much you love me. But come on - either pay attention to me or let's just admire the scenary and talk later."

Of course I immediately focused in, all laser vision speed ahead, at her. Only when she wasn't looking did I shoot a look (through sunglasses) at the hunk at the beach with the girlfriend that looked like Botox Barbie crashed into Tori Spelling. (Shh... don't tell)

Bottom line: I do constantly interrupt people when I talk to them. It's not because I'm intentionally being rude or think what I have to say is so damn important. But it's because I get it! I do! I am such a quick study that you don't even need to finish your sentence! I can just finish it for you! Possibly funnier, with dicier references, and with something that leads back to me! Iambic Pentameter? Totally optional.

Well, that's not good enough. Not for my friends, my family, my husband, and certainly not the divorced bartender who doesn't get paid enough to listen to my opinion.

I believe it's Eat Pray Love that describes yoga as something like (quote not exact) "You can't find your reflection in running water. Only in still water - quiet calm - can you find yourself and truth."

Translation: "You can't find your (or others') reflections in running of the mouth."

But blogging? Well, I can't stop it. Lucky for you, it's quiet. For now. There's always a podcast in my future.

So, what about you? Are you a naturally shy person or a great listener? Or, like some people (throat clear... His Girl) is listening something you're working on?

More of my writing can be found daily at BabyCenter and Good Housekeeping.


I have so much to report and yet so little. And so I'll give you the top three things that stand out in my mind before I crash like the dead.

1. Putting uncooked rice down the drain and then pouring hot water to push it through? Not such a great plan.

2. Spending New Years in Vegas with another family, making it 9 people in a small two bedroom condo? About as great as #1 in terms of brilliance.

3. A snippet of conversation from my children this evening: Stink: "We love Mommy so much." Pip: "Yaaaaah! She's very silly and not stinky like you!" Stink: "And even better, she's not even dead yet!"

I breathe. I write. I've missed you.

More of my writing can be found daily at BabyCenter and Good Housekeeping.