Several days ago little J came home from school.  We have a routine of 'how's your day?' 'what did you learn?' 'Do you have homework?' with snacks before homework.  I don't like to make the kids sit down immediately after getting home because they need wind down time.  The bus counts in my opinion too, but it's here at the house when it's different.

He sat down after and knocked out one math page in 15 minutes.  This is a record for him since he's been struggling to focus, do it right and check it.  He started the second page and it was every couple of minutes he'd be asking a question.  I had dinner set for 6, and this worked well because he could finish the first 2 pages of math before then.  It took him more than the 30 minutes with the questions in between.  

After we ate, I moved him from the table to his room because I had the TV on and he will get distracted by that.  He barely started when I moved his ginger ale away from his arm.  As mothers, we can 'see into the future' with drinks and homework.  I turned around, took 3 steps and heard the awful sound of the can tip over and drink spill out.  Needless to say, I was livid and my actions after were not the best.  They were downright horrible.  

I yelled louder than I ever have and started cussing towards him.  His eyes filled with tears.  I didn't even feel bad in that moment.  I explained how I've told him many times 'no food or drink in your room.'  He does it anyways and always tells me 'It's the last time I promise.' I never is.  I asked him why it spilled after I moved it away, and he told me because he immediately moved it back.  I calmed down and had him get back to his homework.  Within 5 minutes I was angry again, because I checked the school app to find out he'd 'forgotten' 4 more pages of homework at school.  

No TV.  No PlayStation. No Phone. No iPad.  I'd had it with the 'I forgot. I didn't remember. I'm sorry.'  This has been since day 3 after school started.  He's barely passing math and social studies and still has one paper to turn in SINCE the first week of school.  Every day I tell him, 'Finish this and turn it in.' There's always an excuse why he's not done it, and I had to throw my hands up.

I called my mother and told her 'I fucked up, this is what I did.' Then I explain why I reacted.  I told her he's not doing his work; he's forgetting and just not doing his work.  She then proceeded to ask me over and over and over again, 'What is going on in that house? Why are you acting this way? Something is going on!' I can't tell her the day of my outburst I had a fever and slept most of the day, because I already know her reaction.  Parents don't get sick days, we still have to push through for our kids, and when R is out of town, I'm the only one here.  So, in short, I was literally, exhausted.   It doesn't excuse my outburst towards J, but there's nothing going on.

She then told me I should either 'Give little J to J (his father) or me, because you can't seem to handle it.'  It took every fiber in my body not to hang up on this woman.  I love her, I do but for her of all people to say just that had my blood boiling.  

This was the same woman who gave me and my brother up to her parents when we were under 4 years old.  To this day I'll never know why, nor do I want to because I forgave her a long time ago.  Regardless, why the hell would she even say that to me.  I understand parenting isn't easy, but she should know it's not perfection either and as parents we have the right to lose our shit occasionally when we've repeated the same thing over and over and over again when all we are trying to do is help our kids.  

Was my reaction right towards little J? No! He's old enough to know better and I think it was my breaking point with the 'I forgot.'  His ADHD doesn't help, and I'm literally working on getting that situation handled.  

Just because I blew up at my child doesn't mean something bad is going on in my home.  My spouse is out of town for work, and I am the one handling everything here.  I just had enough with him not listening to me.  I don't want to see my child fail, but I also don't want to keep telling them about the same thing over and over and over again and when something bad happens they cry because they didn't listen.  

In the end, little J had an ultimatum.  He's 11, and in 5th grade so you do your work and pass, or you don't and get held back.  I don't want to see him fail, but I'm not going to have him ask for my help and not turn in the work.  I do explain to him, 'I can't help you if you can't help yourself. If you want my help, then finish the work if we put all of this energy into it.'

It was around 11:30 pm when I turned the lights off in the bedroom and tried relaxing when my brain decided to kick into high gear.  The idea of my blog popped up.  It's weird because I only use this as an outlet.  A 'therapy session,' if anything because when I write I release.  Either way, the thought was a change in name.

'It starts with Champagne,' was something cliche and 'old me.'  I mean, when I started this thing, I needed something.  I don't like it anymore, but I do.  

As the thoughts kept coming, I kept tossing and by that, I mean more than in the bed.  It was an idea of a new domain title.  Something more fitting, but nothing that has to do with 'Coffee,' or 'Mama.'  To each their own, but those names are... well they are.  The other part is, I don't want to throw anything in there about my social media because that should be kept separate.

The difficult thing is, it's hard to separate it all when it's all a big mush mess.  I have my hobby, which I don't really do anymore due to lack in motivation, time or weather.  I have my personal life, being a mother, spouse and the norm regarding that aspect.  I love my champagne but not like I use to, and I only like hot coffee in the morning.  

So, I went to ChatGPT for a little guidance.  

I asked it to look into my personal life, a few blog entries, my TikTok and my Instagram.  This is what it said:

You’re a raw, funny, resilient-as-hell woman who got knocked down hard but refuses to stay down. You don’t sugarcoat your past — the cheating, the trauma, the bad therapy — but you’ve turned it into fuel for honesty, humor, and connection. You’re not trying to be the Pinterest-perfect mom influencer; you’re the one calling BS on that, showing the messy reality instead.

Your voice is equal parts sass and soul:

• Sass = the humor, sarcasm, “Bisous, Bubbles & Bullshit” energy.

• Soul = the honesty, the empathy for other women going through pain, the way you admit your triggers and healing.

At your core, you’re:

• Unapologetic (you don’t care if swearing or sarcasm makes people uncomfortable).

• Authentic (you’ll spill the truth, even when it’s ugly).

• Empowering without being preachy (your message to other women is: you’ll survive this, and you might even laugh along the way).

• Chaotically relatable (coffee, kids, champagne, chaos — you live it, not just write it).

 I'm one to keep my religious and political opinions to myself, unless I know for a fact someone else shares my same thoughts and beliefs.  I have a personal rule to never talk about it, especially when you're drinking.  Everyone has their own opinions, and they will never align with yours.  

September 10, 2025, Charlie Kirk was assassinated in front of thousands, and in front of his family.  I was at my mom's with the kids when R called me.  He said, 'Do you know who Charlie Kirk is?' I said the name sounded familiar.  He explained to me and my jaw was on the floor.  He told me he was assassinated, and I just couldn't believe it.  Within 5 minutes, my 'village group chat,' was pinging my phone.  My brother came into the room and showed me the graphic video of the moment it happened.  

Instantly, my mood changed.  I was ready to get on the road because the drive would be almost 2 hours for us due to traffic.  When we drove away, I made sure the kids had their devices and headphones on before I started to flip though the radio channels.  Normally, I'll pull up one of my Amazon music playlists and jam out.  This time was different.

For almost 2 hours on the road and in bumper-to-bumper traffic I listened to talk shows updating about Charlie Kirk.  It was heartbreaking.  The video I saw replayed in my head and my heart hurt.

Let me be clear, I did not know the man, only of the man.  I have only cried for 2 celebrities passing in my life and this will be the third.  I cried for different reasons this time.  I might not have agreed with everything Charlie would speak about, but I admired his intelligence on certain subjects, and he was always advocating about debates and speaking up.  That is my personal opinion which even now I'm afraid to share.  No one is perfect and again, I didn't agree with everything he had to say but he did educate people on a lot of levels.

I cried because all I could think about was his family who witness the moments of his death.  I then cried for the two little beings I carried in my backseat who were oblivious to what was going on in the world at that moment.  

My children, the children in the world right now are growing up in a place people are taking lives because of opinionated disagreements.  People are doing the same over a dollar, food, or because someone decided to become more successful and others think stealing or taking their life will make their own better.   Because someone has an expensive car, because someone said, 'Republicans this or Democrats that.' Someone is black, or someone is white.  It's hate fueled aggression and people don't control themselves.

Charlie had his own personal opinions on things and that was okay, but the one thing I teach others is 'words can't hurt you unless you let them.'  Charlie's words hurt a lot of people because they allowed it.  Again, I didn't agree with a lot of things Charlie said, but I shrugged it off because I didn't allow his opinions to affect me.  I kept going with my life and how I choose to live.  

When I laid down in bed that night, I turned off the lights while staring up at the ceiling.   I pictured his family and what they were doing at that moment.  It was blank.  I couldn't even imagine.  A wife lost her husband, and 2 children lost their father.  No more hugs, good night kisses, birthday parties with him, celebrating graduations, weddings or the birth of a child in their family.  All because of OPINIONS.

Now I fear I have to change the way I raise our kids.  I teach them to be kind to anyone and everyone, but that's terrifying because a woman was stabbed and killed on a train for literally no reason.  I tell them not to judge, but a man was shot and killed in front of his family because he was judged on his opinions.  I fear for my kids, and my family and we shouldn't have to live that way.

Hug your family, kiss your babies.  Teach kindness but be aware of everyone you speak to.  If religion and politics come up do what I do.  'I'm not comfortable speaking about that, respectfully.'

My first born, my mini-me, my baby, the one I prayed to everything in the universe for, and my rainbow baby was born 11 years ago today.

____________________________

11 years ago, around 5 am I walked into the hospital, bags in tow ready to have a baby.  I was not in labor; this was a planned induction.  I walked half a mile, climbed 2 flights of stairs, down a hall and into a labor and delivery room.  I opted for an epidural, simply because it was my choice.  I was terrified of this part, but it went better than I thought.  The doctor was gentle and talked me through every step.  

I don't remember sleeping at all, more like I was playing on my phone while my (ex) husband paced around, ate food and complained how uncomfortable the couch was in the room.  

My mom came to see me and to avoid the trauma of that moment, I'll skip the details.  Don't think she was at fault, it was all three of us who didn't communicate well.

My doctor, oh my doctor.  She was the best thing during my entire pregnancy, next to my baby boy.  She was attentive, detailed and gentle every step of the way.  The nurses were just as amazing, and I wish I was exaggerating.  I would describe the hospital as a 5-star baby motel, easily!  

The Pitocin drip started around 6 am, and I started pushing about 3 pm.  I pushed for almost an hour with the help of an oxygen mask due to some minor complications.  When he came out, I heard him for the first time.  My heart, oh my heart.  He was perfect and beautiful.  

We were released 2 days later, and it's been a whirlwind from there.  

Maybe I'm being biased, but he could have been the new Gerber baby.  His eyes were then blue, with light brown hair, and he had the sweetest smile.  He definitely taught me a few things when his sister came around.  

Today?  He's almost as tall as I am, with beautiful hazel eyes, and ash brown hair.  His temper isn't pretty, and I think he gets that from me.  He's happy place is when he's building Legos, playing on is PS5 or helping me regardless of what I'm doing, He's everything a mom could want a son to be.  I love him more each day and enjoy teaching him new things he will need in life.  

He is my 11-year-old little guy.  Happy Birthday, baby boy.

 Bring on the pumpkin scents, and the fall colors please!  After Labor Day weekend, I began the seasonal home decoration swap.  Yes, all the spring floral colors, gone.  The sweet scents of lavender and peach bellini, gone.  Enter the faded oranges, and whites followed by the warm scents of pumpkin, vanilla and apple cinnamon.

I'm not much of a decorator, but I do know how to accentuate a few things in the home when it comes to holidays and seasonal changes.  A pop of color or a good scent is usually the way I go about things.  However, I might have ordered a few more things this year.  I'm waiting on a few new throw pillows, kitchen towels and floor mats to arrive.  The pink tulips were changed with leaves and white wispy feather duster center pieces too.  Again, I'm a minimalist.

Thank goodness for Pinterest though.  

Aside from the minimal decorating, I did go on a cleaning binge again.  That started with a simple text between me, K and S who share our ladies' group.  K decided to tell me she's decorating, and after being in S's house over the weekend, it was my turn.  

I started in the laundry room, since I haven't really done anything there.  I pulled everything out of the cabinets, did a heavy wipe down and went into organizing.  I didn't forget to change out my seasonal scents on my cleaning supplies too.  I'm a fan of Thieves, and clove and that was my go-to.  

(Quick tip:  Use a spray bottle.  Fill 3/4 water.  3 ounces Rubbing Alcohol.  20 drops of your favorite essential oils and shake.  You now have your own homemade cleaning solution.  I use it on all counter tops and while cleaning the bathrooms.)

The kids' rooms were cleaned top to bottom too, including the bed linens.  The stomach bug has been rumored to be making its way around the schools, so I'm definitely focusing on disinfecting.  The kitchen had its daily scrub down but not till I decided to rearrange items on the counters. Again.  Less is more, and I don't like clutter.  Besides, I'm not using the blender on a daily basis anymore, so I put that back into the cabinets.  Of course, I did my sheets and bathroom because it needs to be done.  

All that's left are the guest bedroom and the bathroom which leads me to today, as I'm currently writing this.  It's early, the kids are at school and I'm planning my day.  I have to run into town for a few things and then I might be able to chill tomorrow.  I say that, but I know it won't happen because I have a birthday to plan for little J. 

I think I'm going to need more coffee.

 Last week I celebrated another year in this world, and another year grateful for everything I have.  I'll be honest, I never saw this many year's coming considering where I came from.

I woke up to an early "Good morning mommy! Happiest Birthday!!' from my 8-year-old.  She got up early and got herself dressed to surprise me.  What a surprise that was.  My son got up without issues and not far behind, R got up and they sang 'Happy Birthday,' while I finished breakfast for everyone.  The kids hugged and kissed me goodbye before getting on the bus and said, 'Have the best birthday mommy!'  Oh, my heart.

The entire weekend was really good.  It was the quietest birthday day I've ever had and that's okay!  We spent it at home as a family.  

Friday, while the kids were at school, R and I decided to take our new toy out on the lake.  Just the two of us, so we can have us time.  We spent a few hours just floating, having a few drinks and enjoying each other's company to celebrate.  I know my birthday was just one day, but I celebrate the entire weekend if it falls on a weekday.  

We decided to wait till Saturday for a big 'village' dinner with our people since a few were out of town.  Mexican food is our go-to place when we eat out and as tradition follows, I had pie in the face at the end.  I wouldn't have had it any other way, because that's what we do.  We drink, we eat, we celebrate and we laugh.  We ended up at S's house and let the kids do what they do, while we as adults had drinks and played card games.  We took S's son home with us for a sleep over since he and J haven't been able to since school started.  I never have issues with him staying with us.  

I used Sunday as a 'recovery' day, since it was raining.  Very little cleaning, but a lot of naps and water intake.  You'd think that would be the end of it, but it was not.

Monday was Labor Day and just one more day to celebrate with the family. R was in a mood since the weather was continuing to look questionable, and he was itching to get on the new boat.  We were up at 8:30 am and out the door by 9:30 am headed to the lake.  Hours of floating, swimming and a few more drinks while enjoying the sunshine.  Oh, and the rain.  The rain!  I think we ended up running from it for the most part, but we finally took notice when lightning started.  We made a run for the marina to have lunch before we had the long ride back to the ramp.  

By the time we got home, everyone was exhausted.  I cleaned up the kids, the kitchen and made a small dinner for everyone while R cleaned the boat.  I'm so glad he decided to leave it out over night to dry, because ugh.  We were tired!

There were no complaints of the weekend, the weather or the company.  Since celebrating my birthday in 2021, I've been thankful to spend it with the ones I love.

2021, M and I had a girls night group party with a color theme and so much champagne.

2022, I brought in 40 with M, (her then boyfriend), V, and R.  That one was by far the funniest, thanks to being taken home in the back of a cop car.  No one was arrested.

2023, it was Mexican food, drinks and our village.  Celebratory drinks after dinner, and card games.

2024, this was in the middle of the busiest work year I've ever had, but we had time for good food, games and drinks.

2025, we celebrated with a new boat thanks to R.  Apparently, that was my gift.  I have given up telling him that's not what I wanted, because he will tell me 'Well, I got you a boat anyway!' Don't bother asking me what I wanted instead, because I am going to say the same thing I've told everyone.  'I don't know what to ask for when I have everything I've ever wanted.'

So, cheers to another year, more memories and spending it with the ones I love most.