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My Dad

Yesterday, July 5th, my dad, Richard Albert, died. He was diagnosed with Parkinson's about 12 years ago and from that developed an insidious type of dementia called Lewy Bodies, which causes a lot of physical issues and accelerates the Parkinson's decline. Basically he was served a shit sandwich with a side of fuck my life. My dad was a quirky guy with a weird sense of humor. He used to play with me by chasing me around the house with a hammer and pretend he was going to smash my little toes. He would pack our lunches with a dog treat that he carefully tin foiled so when we would open it up at lunch all the other kids would laugh and scream. He made us waffles with ice cream in the middle for breakfast and ONLY creamed corn for dinner. He drank buttermilk from the carton. And prune juice. He was private. He would take hour long poops just to be alone and think. He was a scientist and mathematician. He was always trying to work out these insanely impossible to solve equati...
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Into Emotional Cutting? Cool, Read The Giving Tree!

If there is one thing I know about myself it is that I simply can't eat an ice cream sandwich with any sort of dignity. If there is a second thing I'm sure of, its that I am not emotionally healthy enough to handle the children's book The Giving Tree by Shel Silverstein. That book sends me into a sobbing fit so powerful I need my inhaler to pull me out safely. Every time I open the book I am cutting myself emotionally, and this post is a cry for help. If you're not familiar with this classic let me give you the cliff notes. It's about a boy and a tree. When the boy is young he loves the tree and hangs with it all the time, and the tree is so happy. They play and he climbs and he eats her apples and sleeps in her shade. The tree even allows the boy to carve their initials into her side that's surrounded by a heart. She loved this boy so much she allowed him to brand her permanently. Things were pretty awesome for a long time, until the boy got a...
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Hi, my name is Amy, and I am a garbage mom.

I happen to be a part of the greatest Facebook mommy group of all time. It's filled with successful, interesting, hilarious and strong women who have kept me going on many an occasion. I can reach out to them about anything parenting related, no matter how small or embarrassing, and in almost every situation I get positive responses that are encouraging and helpful. Why does this qualify as the greatest mommy group of all time, you ask? Because this mommy group is a rare gem amongst the cubic zirconia's of social media life. It's an online community of women who actually support each other rather than tear each other down. More importantly, it's other moms who have been though the shit and we all can acknowledge that we are what is lovingly referred to as a "garbage mom", and I love them so much for it! The term "garbage mom" is thrown around a ton in my mommy group, and I heard it again today as I was listening to one of my favorite podcasts...
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