The #SkimmLife.

From time to time I like to share things that make my life easier and smarter to help you make your life easier and smarter. See also: beverages containing tequila, beauty products 101, crafty home things, and even the occasional Halloween costume life hack.

Rarely am I serious and rarely are my helpful tips and tricks related to real life. But recently I came across a company called theSkimm--and it's my new morning addiction. It's a daily (free) email newsletter that quickly breaks down current events, world trends and pretty much anything "now"—and it’s written with snark, wit and humor. And the co-founders? Two smart, sassy ladies who are taking the news world by storm.

Click here or the image above to sign up. All you need is an email address. And that's all they'll ever ask for!

I'll live in a van down by the river if that's what it takes.

I got two letters in the mail last week. Both from my OBGYN office.

One announcing the two! new! amazing! additions to their practice! One fresh out of med school eager to deliver 'da babies, and the other  a "friend of the practice" for years. Oh great, two more people that get to see my girlie bits between now and October. It's fine.

The second letter was not as exclamatory. My doctor, my beloved Dr. who has sliced open my stomach to remove one Alex Joseph Van Wormer, performed the procedure for my sweet tWIPs, and was there to hold my hand in anger and sadness with my bDub, is leaving the practice. In June.

The extreme tragedy is that I totally can't hate him for it, because he's going to some inner city hospital in the hoods of Ohio that treats the underserved and non-insured. And he's going to teach other doctors there how to be as awesome as he is.

But the internal struggle that I have is that I sorta do hate him for it because he's the only person I want holding that scalpel and slicing this child out of me. My scar from Alex is perfect & healed like a dream. He knows my body & what it's been through. I trust him implicitly.

I was able to squeeze in one last appointment with him before he leaves, during which I plan to kick and moan and groan and cry and otherwise act like a 13-year-old girl whose parents won't let her go to the movies past her curfew. Whhhyyyyy meeeeee?

There are 7 other doctors in the practice, and save the new girl (and one other one that should probably never meet me in a dark alley) they're all very competent, trustworthy, good doctors. So I'm sure I'll be fine. However, I do have a plan B to escape to the ghettos of Ohio (not hard to find?), shred my insurance cards and just do what I must. You know, mother's instinct and all that.

America!

While many of us have been preoccupied by the national election, the REALLY IMPORTANT election will be held at Alex's Daycare today! Who will be their official daycare mascot? I invite you to meet the candidates...

 

The Dog Party: Meet Clifford, the Big Red Dog. According to Aunt Jane, those who have chosen the Dog Party Candidate like his cute tail, his nose, paws, big eyes and red floppy ears. They also say he is a really nice dog.

The Dinosaur Party: Meet Barney, the Dinosaur. I'm told that those who have made Barney their candidate like that he is big and purple, a nice green belly, and a friendly smile. He likes kids too.

Additionally, their respective poll workers will be passing out treats in an attempt to sway last minute voters.

And as each child practices his or her right to a Daycare vote, the official Mrs. Davis' Daycare mascot will be chosen. Viva la democracy!

In related news, I'm told that Alex is a fervent supporter of Clifford. And as such, he's taken on the role of campaign manager. Joey's never been prouder.

Advice for Moms, albeit unsolicited.

This blog is not a political forum. In fact, I'm quite sure that if you go back and read every single one of my posts from start to finish, you will find nothing even remotely political in nature. I roll my eyes at Joey when he posts his rants and raves all over Facebook, because for me, it's a private matter. You have your opinions, and I have mine. This blog isn't for red vs. blue. It's for wedge vs. heel, pacifier vs. thumb, margarita vs. wine ...and the like.

HOWEVER, when I read this post from Clemsongirl today, I was moved to tears. Literally. Since Alex is so small, I never really thought about the impact recent events have had on parents that have to explain these things to their children. I'm of the parenting 'world of truth,' and when Alex is old enough to comprehend such matters of the world, I will be open, honest and age-appropriate with him, just as Clemsongirl was with her cutie patooties, Jack (8) and Ryan (10).

I think as a network of Moms, it's important to lean on one another and get advice from those who have lived it, talked the talk and walked the walk. I'm willing and eager to learn from those who have been in the trenches of Motherhood and earned those badges of honor. Some of the best tricks I know were nuggets of wisdom from other Mommies...and in some way, I like to think that's part of the circle of life. You give. You get. And everybody's better because of it.

So thanks, Clemsongirl, for being open and honest with your kids. I couldn't agree with you more - God bless America and God bless our children.

Flying High.

So here's the thing...

I've driven past many a destination. Hell, I've even gone past the exit for work (more times than I actually care to admit) because I've been daydreaming, singing, or just plain not paying attention.

But for the love of all things cheesy, HOW DO YOU OVERSHOOT YOUR DESTINATION IN AN AIRPLANE BY ONE HUNDRED AND FIFTY MILES?!?

I'm never flying again.

Well, except to CT. Because I flat out refuse to drive that again. And let's be honest, if they overshoot that one, the worst I can do is land in Florida. And that's not really that bad.

Right?