Detonation Complete

Well, it’s that time of the week again… Time to neglect my household duties for who knows how long, let the things that need to be done around here scream at me as I pointedly ignore them, and type my little fingers to the bone.

I must admit that I have been absolutely dreading this week’s blog. I feel like what I’m about to do is the emotional equivalent of showing you all my horrible naked body or something. I would never do that to you, don’t worry… After all, you wouldn’t be able to read my blog if you went blind. Or mad. Or both.

So, here I go, about to detonate my dream bomb and then sift through the wreckage of my possible mortification. Incidentally, I felt I had been using the word “humiliation” too much and thus looked it up in the thesaurus… Mortification has sort of a ring to it, don’t you think?

I know I am drawing this out to a ridiculous length, but really, I’m super nervous, cut me some slack!!!


The thing I have always dreamed about doing that I am going to just go for, try, possibly fall on my face in public, can’t wait to do (yet it makes me nauseous to think about), and that could forever be a source of embarrassment for me is…

I sincerely hope it lives up to the hype, but I realize that the more I hype it the less likely that is… Especially when several of the guesses of my loved ones were much more interesting and important. Things such as going into politics, writing a book, or trying to become the next Taylor Swift (Can you tell I’m stalling? No, of course not, I feel like I’m being pretty subtle).

Anyway, my dream is:

Stand up comedy.

Ridiculous? I know. Crazy? Most likely. But I’m doing it anyway.

I realize it’s kind of a strange thing for a chubby stay at home mother of two to dream of doing, but I can’t help it. I realize this next sentence is the cheesiest thing anyone has ever written, but I feel it in my heart. I have been obsessed with comedy ever since I can remember. I have been rolling this around in my head, picturing it, and okay, I’ll admit it, secretly writing comedy bits in a notebook labeled “MANDY ONLY!!!” for years.

Side note, the strangest thing about the notebook (aside from it’s existence) is that a notebook labeled “MANDY ONLY” has somehow managed to acquire an alarming amount of children’s drawings in it… Ah well, as long as the kids don’t read my crazy ramblings and tell their father that he is fodder for my comedic barbs I can’t object too much.

So it’s out there now… My poor little dreams are just shivering in the cold without the safety of their secrecy clothes.

I thought maybe you all would like to see the journey so I’m going to write about it. Not every blog mind you, cause that would get boring. But the culmination of this journey (God, I’m making it sound like I’m taking the ring to Mordor or something) is going to be me performing at an open mic night in Billings and posting the video for you guys to watch. They have one every Wednesday and the date I am shooting for is April 4th… I need to give myself time to prepare, but I don’t want to set it out there too far into the future or I may chicken out. Actually I’m feeling a little chicken-y right now….

Eeeeeeeeeeek!!! I’m freaking out!!!

But I think that’s a good thing.


The worst idea ever???

It’s a new year, everybody!!! Full of hope and promise… Or at least it is for about three weeks. Until I begin rationalizing the old habits I was trying to break with the annual changing of the digits.

The resolution this year is a little (okay, I’ll admit it, a lot) weird and, I’ll just put it out there, it scares me… Which is why I’m writing it down for all to see. Oh geez… I sorta have a tear of fright in my eye. Yes, I get a tear in my eye when I get nervous… Also when I get scared… Also when I’m happy… And sad… Or watch a sweet commercial… Or my kids do something cute… You get the drift, every emotion is attached to the old tear ducts.

Anyway, I have resolved to try something new… Something that I daydream about, obsess about, have always wanted to do, and that absolutely nobody, not my husband, Mom, or best friends even knows I have been thinking about doing. Before I tell you what it is, I want to explain to you (in my typical long-winded fashion) why I would contemplate such an insane, ridiculous, and potentially humiliating undertaking. Warning: The following is super sappy and may be boring in the extreme.

I’ll start out by saying that I love being a stay at home Mom and I think about the implications of that a lot. It has been the most amazing blessing and privilege of my life watching my little people grow and be who they are. They are the coolest! And because I am the Mother of such cool, creative, special children I must toot my own horn a bit and say they’re cool because of me. Kind of. Well, alright, I packed them around in my belly for a bit and they came out cool. Either way, I was involved.

Sometimes you get knocked on your ass a little (the pretentious may call it being humbled) by the idea that you were a part of creating this little miracle and making the world better by bringing it into existence. (I would like to note, that as I was writing this, one of my little miracles was unzipping my couch pillow and gleefully tearing the stuffing out of it.) The whole Mom gig is super fulfilling on the most primitive and important levels. I would rather be doing this than anything else in the whole world.

Okay, barf-worthy and mushy as that was, thinking about that and how much I love my kids and want them to simply be themselves and follow their dreams is what prompted this whole resolution idea thing to begin with.

So how many of us parents are following our dreams? I’m not sure. So many of us have been detoured off of the path we originally set out on or intended and have made happiness out of where we landed. Which is wonderful, but also not exactly what we want our children to do.

Of course that does not diminish our happiness or the passion we feel for our lives. Nor does it erase the fact that, in our heart of hearts, many of us still have a personal passion. Something that is completely, 100 percent selfish and has nothing to do with anyone else or what they need and want and feel.

As every parent knows, we make a lot of personal sacrifices to be good at what we do and mostly forget about the selfish personal dreams. While I do feel that much of that is necessary, I’m also not sure it is setting the best example for my babies. Can I tell them to follow their dreams when they don’t know what that looks like?

Some mothers show this to their children through working at a job they love, or cooking, or going back to school, or volunteering, or doing a hobby they love… Well, me, I am basically lazy and spend my free time worrying about bills, bitterly cleaning up after everyone, or cooking something for dinner.

So… I have resolved to do something this year that I desperately want to do that scares me to death.

I am going to follow my dream.

My ridiculous, embarrassing, insane, nerve-wracking, super-secret (for a good reason) dream.

And I am going to show my babies what living the life you want to live looks like. I’m not going to sit around fighting lethargy and passing time, I’m going to do it.

I am going to potentially humiliate myself, possibly die of embarrassment, and do what I dream of.

And I thought you guys might want to watch the (potential, have to think positive) train wreck.

I’m going to write about it, the whole thing, on this blog so that I have no chance of chickening out.

Help. HOLY HELL!!! I’m freaking out a little bit. Putting it out there and writing about it makes it real. Panic setting in. Need. Paper. Bag.

So, I am scared to death… And if you want to find out what the secret dream is, that I keep locked up in my head and never ever let out, you’ll have to keep reading the blog. I’m too embarrassed to tell you yet.

Maybe some of you have already guessed it by now…? (Hint: It does not involve wearing a bikini in public.) Or maybe you’ve just been counting how many times I have written the word “dream.” It’s a lot.

Well, feel free to speculate… I have probably built this whole thing up in my brain to a level that can never live up to the hype…

But you won’t find out for sure until next week.


I don’t know about you all, but I am in a slight post holiday slump… The anticipation of Christmas is over, the presents have been unwrapped, and the children have started up their bickering and attempts to maim each other in earnest once again… I will admit, I did try to convince the girls that Santa is still watching them, but he just doesn’t hold the same sway when he isn’t showing up again for 11 months.

I think the main reason for my slump is the cleaning, though. The relentless, never ending cleaning. There are reams of wadded up wrapping paper, boxes of new things that have yet to find a home, and bits of cardboard everywhere I turn. I have had to clear a path through each of my children’s rooms just so they can reach their beds.

Anyway, all of this cleaning gives me a lot of “thinking time.” Which is dangerous to say the least. In one of my many musings (the others were super intellectual and not at all ridiculous like this one) I decided that there should be some sort of after Christmas song… I mean there is an infinite amount of Christmas music and not one thing for me to passive aggressively hum at top volume as I clean around my lounging family.

So, I present, the dumbest thing I have ever written… But for some reason it made me laugh.

To the tune of “12 Days of Christmas.”

“In the 12 days post-Christmas, these things ann-oy-oy-ed me…”

12 (hundred) boxes
11 (million) pine needles
10 stale cookies
9 stepped on legos
8 toys a-beeping
7 golden wrappers (on the floooooooor) (because apparently we have a full-time maaaaaiiiiiid)
6 broken ornaments
5 loads of laundry
4 missing batteries
3 wrestling pitbulls (okay 2, but they might. as. well. be. threeeeeeeee)
2 fighting children
1 unhelpful husband

and a Mom that is going CRAY-ZEEEEEEE!!!

I hope you all enjoyed a glimpse of my descent into clutter-induced madness.

Have a wonderful New Year!!!

A comedy podcast by an idiot and her brother.