Me, uncensored.
I know. I haven’t been posting very much. But I swear it’s for a good reason. No, I didn’t taking pole dancing lessons. Or join a cult devoted to worshipping and snuggling with puppies. Heck, I didn’t even go on a round-the-world trip to drink delicious wine find myself.
Follow Foxy Wine Pocket on Facebook and Twitter. You can also subscribe to my blog and never miss a new post. It’s quick and easy! (That’s what she said.)
Okay, I don’t actually have a joke. I’m just awkwardly introducing a different kind of post. See, depression and anxiety have walked back into my life, and they don’t seem to want to leave. Like intrusive houseguests who have overstayed their welcome, they are invading my space and turning me into someone I don’t recognize. (Somebody smells bad in this particular analogy, and I’m pretty sure it’s me.)
Follow Foxy Wine Pocket on Facebook and Twitter. You can also subscribe to my blog and never miss a new post. It’s quick and easy! (That’s what she said.)
September 6-12 is National Suicide Prevention Week. I lost my brother to suicide three years ago, and I live with chronic depression and anxiety myself. So this week is important to me to say the least.
Talking about mental illness and suicide is also very important to me. I share my experiences because I want to help people. Because I want people who are struggling to know that they are not alone. Because I want people to come to a deeper understanding of mental illness.
Those people also include my children. I wrote an essay for Scary Mommy addressing why and how I talk to my kids about depression and suicide. Please read and/or share if you are so inclined.
#StopSuicide
Follow Foxy Wine Pocket on Facebook and Twitter. You can also subscribe to my blog and never miss a new post. It’s quick and easy! (That’s what she said.)
When I was in 4th grade, we had to write a letter to a celebrity as a class assignment. I wrote my letter to Ricky Schroder from Silver Spoons. (I know it’s Rick now, but back then it was Ricky.) One of my classmates wrote to Ricky too. She told him that he was dreamy and that she loved his blonde hair and that she’d like to ride on his train. (That was not a euphemism; his Silver Spoons character had a train in his house, remember?)
I, however, wrote to Ricky and told him that I enjoyed his show and that I really enjoyed the character of Derek Taylor. (Which if you didn’t already know was played by Jason Bateman. My love for him goes back THAT far.) And that it’d be great if Derek could be in more episodes. A LOT MORE.
That may have not been the best approach to get Ricky to write me back. After that fail, I stopped writing to celebrities.
Until this week, that is. This week I wrote a more serious letter to Bruce Jenner. I think it’s pretty important. Please read it and let me know if I did a better job this time.
Follow Foxy Wine Pocket on Facebook and Twitter. You can also subscribe to my blog and never miss a new post. It’s quick and easy! (That’s what she said.)
As you know, Foxy Wine Pocket is a humor blog. It’s a humor blog because I like to write about all things funny, and I like to make people laugh, including myself.
I love laughter. It’s part of how I cope. How I make it through the day. How I survive.
See, I live with chronic depression and have been living with it for my entire adult life. More recently, I have also been struggling with anxiety. And I’ve found that laughter is one of my most important forms of therapy.
Follow Foxy Wine Pocket on Facebook and Twitter. You can also subscribe to my blog and never miss a new post. It’s quick and easy! (That’s what she said.)
Foxy Wine Pocket is a (sometimes inappropriate and irreverent) humor blog, but I also write serious pieces. Today, I’m honored to be on Mamalode sharing one such story about my journey to become a mother and the complicated feelings surrounding motherhood after infertility. I hope you’ll follow me there. Here’s a snippet:
“One girl and one boy! Aren’t you lucky!” people often declare when they see my children.
“Yes, I am.” I reply simply.
Because I am lucky, and usually people just want that acknowledgement. They don’t want to hear about my experiences with infertility and pregnancy loss, or that I never cared about gender.
My journey to my girl and boy, however, did not feel lucky at the time…
Please read the rest on Mamalode. And maybe share the piece and/or say something nice about me while you’re there?
Follow Foxy Wine Pocket on Facebook and Twitter. You can also subscribe to my blog and never miss a new post. It’s quick and easy! (That’s what she said.)
Foxy Wine Pocket is a (sometimes completely ridiculous over-the-top) humor blog, but I also write serious pieces. Today, I’m honored to be at Scary Mommy sharing one such story about the birth complications we experienced with my first-born child. I hope you’ll follow me there. Here’s a snippet:
My husband and I had finished packing our things and were leaning against the hospital bed holding hands when the pediatrician returned from the discharge exam … without our newborn daughter. The serious expression on her face sent a wave of panic across my body. I squeezed my husband’s hand and braced myself for the doctor’s words.
“Your daughter started seizing during our examination. We’ve had to admit her to the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit,” she informed us.
We froze on the edge of the bed, speechless. My head was spinning; my heart was racing; my breath was short. This couldn’t be happening. We’d already dressed our daughter in her special Going Home outfit. We were ready to begin our exciting new life with our first child. We were ready to take our baby home…
Please read the rest on Scary Mommy.
Follow Foxy Wine Pocket on Facebook and Twitter. You can also subscribe to my blog and never miss a new post. It’s quick and easy! (That’s what she said.)
Today I’m sharing a personal story over on Scary Mommy in honor of TransParent Day. I hope you’ll head over there and learn more about this special day. It’s a non-humor piece, so there is no need to worry about spitting out your coffee this morning. Here’s a snippet to get you started:
I no longer celebrate Father’s Day with my father. Not because my father is dead. No, my biological father is still very much alive. But my biological father is now a woman.
In case you need further clarification: the person who contributed the sperm that created the person that is me is now living as a woman. As in, the penis is gone; a vagina has been created; and this person wears makeup and girl clothes.
Did I blow your mind? I wish that wasn’t the case. I wish we lived in a world in which we fully embraced all people regardless of our own individual norms or experiences. A world in which personal expression and transformation were greeted without pause, reservation, or judgment…
Please read the rest over on Scary Mommy.
Follow Foxy Wine Pocket on Facebook and Twitter. You can also subscribe to my blog and never miss a new post. It’s quick and easy! (That’s what she said.)
I’ve got a rant today, and it’s a BIG one. But this is a humor blog so I’ve posted it on another fabulous site that graciously allows me to rant and rave.
This piece is about my son, a recent airplane trip we took, and how pissed off I was during the whole experience. Honestly, I’m surprised I didn’t start screaming “DON’T BE A DICK!” to everyone on that airplane. Especially the flight attendant (what a dick).
Read the whole story on BLUNTmoms to find out why.
Follow Foxy Wine Pocket on Facebook and Twitter. You can also subscribe to my blog and never miss a new post. It’s quick and easy! (That’s what she said.)
Foxy Wine Pocket is a humor blog, but I also write serious stories. Usually, I publish those pieces elsewhere. Today, I’m honored to be at Scary Mommy sharing one such story about explaining miscarriage to my children. I hope you’ll follow me there.
Here’s a snippet to get you started:
The Two Missing Kids: Explaining Miscarriage to Children
My husband, our two kids, and I were at a social gathering this past Mother’s Day when we encountered a family with four children. My 8-year-old son, who is my youngest child, stopped near to them and looked at them longingly. He then pointed them out to me.
“That could have been our family,” he said quietly.
As my chest tightened and I fought back tears, I hugged him and kissed his head. I knew what he meant, but there wasn’t much I could say in response. Because he just doesn’t understand. He doesn’t comprehend that we never would have been a family with four children.
But, in his mind, there are two missing kids in our family. They are the pregnancies that I lost…
Please read the rest of the piece on Scary Mommy. Grab a tissue because this one even made Sarah at est.1975 cry.
Follow Foxy Wine Pocket on Facebook and Twitter. You can also subscribe to my blog and never miss a new post. It’s quick and easy! (That’s what she said.)
