Styling tip!

Do you own dresses that maybe make you feel like you forgot your pants?  Styling TIP:  knot your dress to one side and throw some shorts on under it.  Nothing worse than feeling like you can’t bend over to do something because you’ll flash something.  Especially helpful when handling small children/sticky fingers.  Linked below is my entire outfit – all currently ON SALE!  Happy shopping!








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Be The Good Clothing

#bethegood – such a great message.  Wendy is a mom on a mission and her cute clothes for a cause do not disappoint.  Use the code:  GOODDAYS to receive 20% off sitewide!  The direct link to her website is:

I’m wearing a size small – “No bad days” tank and my little man is in the cutest matching T.  Confession, I love dressing my little boy and I alike. I  have to do it now while he is still little and doesn’t protest!

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5 things NOT TO DO in a gym

How to behave in a gym
From, a high end gym working professional

Don’t approach women and attempt to start up conversation while they’re on any piece of equipment…unless you look like Bradley Cooper. Dear Mr. coming my way. I see you in my periphery. Even though my head is hanging, I’m frowning and my shoulders are slumped, you keep coming toward me. My inner dialogue is, “don’t talk to me, don’t talk to me, don’t talk to me.” Yet, you insist! WHY?!!!! I’m sweaty, red faced, out of breath and trying to workout. Please, no. There will be no “us,” sir.
*Full disclosure. I met my husband at a gym. He said hi to me and I ignored him. Perfect start to our marriage.

The unthinkable happened last week. A hairy, sweaty arm brushed against mine eliciting my involuntary, aggressive, quite audible ROAR followed by an eye roll and dramatic wipe off with my clean towel. There isn’t enough soap or hot water to scrub away that feeling. WHY??!! How could this have happened to me?!! I am SO careful about where I’m working out in relation to others. This Mr. needed these rules read to him, stat.

Ahhh yes, the familiar sounds of grunting, snorting, heavy breathing, and panting followed by KA-BOOOOOOM! Cue the awkward silence, eye rolling, and general disbelief that any adult needs attention that badly. Dear Mr. I-took-too-much-protein-powder-mixed-with-creatine-this-morning, we understand you are trying to blow off some steam, but come on?! Does that process have to scare the living s&%t out of everyone else in the gym?

In the locker room, it is NEVER OK to strike up a conversation while completely undressed or partially undressed. I don’t know where to look. And staring straight into someone’s eyes for too long makes me the creepy one. Let’s be real, this isn’t Europe. We are not ready for boobs in our face while talking about carpool pickup or the hot new restaurant that just opened.

I understand that on a microbial level, a simple wipe of the leather won’t eliminate my risk of catching whatever bacterial contagion your excretions carry, but, I’d just rather not HAVE TO SIT IN IT! Please, please, please, be a decent person and wipe it off.




I have this things for shoes…

You too?  Good…I’m not alone.  I’m flippin’ for these sandals!  The metallic adds just the right amount of color to your pretty feet.  I’m rather self conscious of my size 10 feet and I grew an extra bone on the right side of my foot during pregnancy.  (It was worth it)  Here’s the link to my favorite knit T and sandals and happy shopping!

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Sale alert!

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Mr. Pipes

Loved dog

Had kid

Free dog to good home


Mr. Pipes was my main squeeze poodle baby.  He was spirited, often grumpy, insisting on going to bed nightly at 9pm.  We enjoyed spooning, long afternoon walks, and salmon and rice dinners.  Since Mr. Pipes wasn’t a fan of being alone, he spent his days lounging at the neighbor’s house until we returned home from work.  He was tall enough to peek his little furry face through the iron metal gates.  As soon as he saw us, he would rear up on his back legs and take off in mad circles.  And then….I got pregnant.  We packed up and moved to a bigger house knowing Mr. Pipes would need a buddy at his new home.  We scoured shelters in hopes of finding him the perfect girlfriend.  We had specific requirements: female, small, and poodle mix (non shedding) as the baby was on his way in a few short months.  At one shelter, we were led into a back area where there were literally hundreds of poodle mutt mixes.  It was complete chaos.  Jumping, barking, biting.  Crazy!  In the midst of the madness, there sat a tiny, mangy, brown nosed white pup, perfectly quiet staring up at me.  She was the one.  My husband named her “Amy” and we brought her home to Mr. Pipes.  In true Piper fashion, he promptly humped her multiple times.  Perfect.  


As we settled in and prepped for the baby’s arrival, Pipes and Amy bonded.  Or rather,  Amy’s true colors began to shine.  Amy enjoyed flying leaps off our bed.  Paws stretched to the max, she would time her landing just right and on top of Piper’s head.  Mr. Pipes would try his best to make a comeback, ears perked, deep growl, hump stance.  But inevitably, two year old Amy forced thirteen year old Pipes to retreat under the kitchen table.

Did I mention Amy pee’d each time you tried to pet her?  Yup, a puddle of pee at your feet followed by her submitting and rolling around in it.  Excellent.  At 37 weeks pregnant, I found myself glued to the couch entertained by the wrestling, snorting, and snoozing of Pipes and Amy.  She was good for him.


And then…we had a baby.  An eight pound, chubby cheeked, precious little face…you get the idea.  We had never been happier.  As we attempted to settle into our new life as parents, aggravation crept in as dogs swirled around my feet.  They were in my way.  Gasp!  Mr. Pipes in my way?  I was guilt ridden but, had a new boy in my life.

As months passed, our beloved Piper turned fourteen and sadly, began experiencing major health problems. We fought for him but one night, he left us.  We were destroyed.  And so was Amy.  She wouldn’t move from the edge of the bed and cried for her buddy.  The energy in the house was different and felt wrong.  Pipers nails were noticeably absent from the hardwood floor.  One strange thing about life is that it continues through dark times and death.  All we have is right now. So as days passed, we were happy to have Amy pitter patter through the house. She zoomed past our ankles, tongue wagging, licking along the way.  I grew tired of wiping the slobber away.  I stomped my feet and yelled at her, “stop licking!”  Did I mention the high pitched howling sound?  Her cry is, no doubt, the most ear piercing sound ever, of all time.  It’s the sound a wolf in a heated battle would make, not a twelve pound poodle.  That perfectly silent, well behaved, poodle in the shelter knew exactly how to stand out in the crowd.    It’s been almost a year since Piper passed and it seems we are stuck with Amy.  Peeing, high pitched howling, drive by leg licking Amy.  Anyone want a poodle?




Dedicated to Mr. Pipes.  We miss your stink break.


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