Tag Archives: friendship

New Year’s Resolutions I Can Keep

New Year’s Resolutions I Can Keep | Ponies and Martinis

I resolve to be more beach-friendly this year.

With the very best of intentions, I start off the new year with an ambitious resolution or two, like working out every day or not yelling at the kids. And slowly, but surely, I fail to keep them. This is why I still carry some baby weight and my kids are deaf.

This year, I have come up with a few resolutions that I know I can stick with.

1. Wear yoga pants more often. I have kept my yoga pants isolated to the gym, but I think I have been severely limiting my comfort. Have you ever worn those things? It’s like rolling in butter and lying in velvet all at the same time. I won’t wear them out in public, like one of those people from Walmart, but, I’ll wear them for lounging, kid drop-off, and girls’ night. Maybe I’ll buy my friends a pair or two too.

2. Drink more wine. I love, love, love wine, so when the kids go to bed, I pour myself a glass. Unfortunately, life gets in the way of me enjoying it. There’s laundry to fold, dishes to do, and eventually, it’s time for bed. Sometimes, I don’t even drink the whole thing. I know! It’s the saddest story in the world! There will be no more sad stories in 2015. God as my witness, I will finish my wine.

3. Act like an idiot with my girlfriends. When I had kids, I stopped going out with my friends. Oh, there would be brunch or coffee, or a night in, but nothing like the bacchanal we’d had in our 20s. I miss those days, when we’d go out looking super skanky, dancing like the rhythmless white girls we are, and knocking back a few Manhattans. We’d sing along with Bon Jovi and do things that I am really glad were not captured on video. Of course the next day would be hell, but it was worth it. I need to do that again. But, this time with a better hangover cure.

4. Enjoy mindless entertainment. I finally read The Grapes of Wrath, a few fascinating books by Bill Bryson, and watched the Ken Burns documentary series on Prohibition. I am so much smarter now than I was 12 months ago. But, dammit, I want to take my edumacation down a notch. I won’t go to the dark side and start watching the Kardashians, but I need more Amy Poehler, Doctor Who, and Arrested Development. The Joad family is way too depressing. Sweet baby Jesus, someone find them a Habitat for Humanity house and a union to join.

5. Nap. Oh, naps. How I do love thee. With every fiber of my soul, I worship you, O, great nap. This is a no-brainer. And to accomplish this, I will…

6. Stick to the basics with housecleaning. Scrub the toilets, vacuum up the tumbleweeds of dog hair in the hall, wipe down a few jelly smears, and call it a day. Dirt can only help my kids, right? Build up their immune system and stuff? And if it doesn’t work out, I’ll burn my house down and start over. Perfect.

7. Lose my filter. For most of my life, I have worried about what other people thought of me. I always had a frank personality that I kept locked away like a crazy aunt in the attic. This year, she is breaking free and taking over. Here comes the crazy, and it’s going to be good.

I may not manage to keep any of these resolutions, but I am going to do my damnedest to try. I mean, seriously, how fun is this year going to be?


Filed under Partying with the Ponies

Friendship is the Perfect Blendship

Over the weekend, I was very proud to be part of the wedding of my best friend. So, when I saw the Tuesday Ten prompt to share 10 things you love about your best friend, I could think of no one more appropriate.

I met her 12 years ago when we were young pups working at the local NBC 4 station; she as an upstart producer, and me as a clueless web writer. We bonded over the things that bring young women together; politics and social issues.

Actually, it was purses. Kate Spade to be precise.


And psychiatrists don’t usually have wine.

We have been friends ever since, through breakups, my marriage, the subsequent babies, new jobs, new boys, and, as always, shopping adventures. Through it all she has been like a sister to me, and I hope she would say the same about me.

I can call her at any hour. Once, I thought my husband was dead because he was out late. And, by late I mean he said he was going out or Happy Hour, and ended up staying out until the bars closed without ever answering his phone. Before calling every hospital and prison in the area, I called my friend. At midnight. She was reassuring, supportive, and even offered to kick his ass when he came rolling in around 3.

We can be honest when we’re shopping. Hideous outfit? Accessories too off-trend? We will tell each other, and even go as far as to rip heinous articles of clothing off each other’s bodies. No friend of mine will wear coral and mint chevron palazzo pants.

Being there for each other. When she broke up with her boyfriend, I sent chocolate, love, and a sympathetic ear. I then willingly took him back into the friendship circle when he realized he was idiot and begged my friend for forgiveness. And she forgives me when I arrive 10 minutes late. For everything. All the time.

Wine, delicious wine. We both enjoy a glass of Chardonnay, and have introduced each other to yummy brands whenever we discover them. And we’re never too shy to offer to bring some wine over when we hang out.

She likes my kids. I mean, I kind of hope she would since she is their godmother, but she doesn’t have to. Anyone who thinks my kids are awesome, is OK in my book.

We are ridiculously hot. Before your mind goes too far into the gutter, she is beautiful, smart and stylish, just like me. Together we are an unbeatable combo, and push each other to heights of fashion excellence. Seriously, if she’s rocking some quatrefoil, I may end up purchasing some for myself. And I have a feeling her fabulousness in a scarf is due to my positive influence.

Organization, discipline, and a plan. In another life she would have made a highly effective General. As one who is often in a tornado of disorder and chaos, she is like an oasis with her executive decisions, schedules, and anal-retentive structure. I used to be this way, and maybe she will inspire me to be that way again. Or, maybe not. That sounds too tiring.

Epic road trips. Cherry blossoms, wine, and a little March Madness in the nation’s capital. Plus, she makes an excellent cuddle buddy when we have to share a bed.

We rock out. Hard. A few years ago we channeled our late 80s and early 90s selves and headed to the NKOTBSB concert. Amidst a sea of like-minded women, we sang along with every pop ballad from our childhood, drank a goodly amount of beer, laughed way too hard, and sighed over the former Hottie McHotpantses that don’t look exactly like the golden gods they were in our youth.

A wicked sense of humor. My bestie seems so very straightlaced and rigid on the surface, but underneath, she is a hilarious woman who loves mob movies and Mitch Hedberg. It’s one of the reasons I love her; she is a constant source of surprise.

See? She is supercalifragilisticexpiaolodociously wonderful. I can’t guarantee that we’ll be friends forever, but I know that I’ll be poorer spiritually if we aren’t.

In closing, I will leave you with a quote that I know would get a giggle out of my friend. “Is it a hippopotamus or a really cool opotamus?” It’s a little something to ponder with your own compatriot.


Filed under Martini Madness

Coming Out of the Blogset

When I started blogging and tweeting earlier this year, only my husband and three dogs knew I was doing this. Frankly, I’m not sure how much they cared, as long as they got their belly rubs. But, recently, I’ve decided to come out of the blogging closet, or blogset, to use a fun portmanteau.

At first, I kept things quiet because I didn’t know how long I would keep up with it. I have a tendency to go from, “Hey! Look at this fun thing I’m doing!” to, “Well, looks like I need to do this thing,” culminating in, “Hey! Look at this NEW fun thing I’m doing!”

I am Dug, from Up. Squirrel!



After gaining some traction with my blog and tweets (big hugs to all of you), I started to feel like I was leading some sort of double life. People asked me what I did over the weekend and I’d reply very quickly, “Nothing! Why do you ask? What did you hear? I spent all of time with my children. Coloring. And reading the bible.”

I could have been doing those things. Or, I could have been hiding from my children drinking wine in a closet, while trying to whip up bon mots for Twitter. Either one.

One night, I thought I’d tell two of my very best friends about my great secret. Of course, with the way I am with the word putting together, they probably thought I was going to tell them I was pregnant with baby #3, even though they know better.

I started off with, “So… I have some news.” And anyone who has friends, knows that in your 20s, this means someone is announcing an engagement, in your late 20s/early 30s you’re telling everyone you’re pregnant, and in your 40s, it means you’re telling everyone either that you’re getting a divorce or you’ve found a new wine you really like. Or both.

My blogging news was met with a much better reception than if I had announced I was pregnant, because once again, my friends know me way too well. And the next day, I had one following me on twitter and the other had read my blog in its entirety.

Have I mentioned that I heart my friends?

Every up has its down. Just like every rose has its thorn. Just like… sorry. Channeling my inner Bret Michaels there.

So, I was out for a work happy hour and I mentioned to a co-worker that I blogged. And then he asked about my blog. I felt like a doofus saying, “I blog about motherhood.” Somehow, it seemed like I could have easily said, “I Instagram photos of my dogs.”

Heeeyyy... So... I blog. And I'm not weird at all.

Heeeyyy… So… I blog. And I’m not weird at all.

Instantly, my great passion seemed ridiculous.

In retrospect, I SHOULD have said, “I amusingly write about the ups and downs of motherhood.” Or something like that. Anything else would have been better.

It wasn’t until I wrote about my personal loss that I let anyone else know that I did this. Everyone was very kind, but I still feared some backlash. Not about the one particular post I shared, but… the other posts.

So… I may have referenced people I know in other blog posts. Not by name; I’m not stupid, but if they read it, they would know it was them. And… I may have to see one of those people on a semi-regular basis. Yeah. Awkward. I can only hope they are not big blog readers. Or, that I can distract them with something shiny if they get to that post.

I’m screwed, aren’t I?

All I can do is embrace my blogginess and ask everyone to love me, even if I might have tossed a little snark their way.

Who knows, I may even become more bold in what I write, because if I have already ticked off family and survived, does anything else matter? The only thing I probably won’t do is put my kids in my blog or on Twitter, but that’s mainly because I think their combination of brilliance and stunning good looks would just make other parents sad. Plus, this is all about me, obviously, so I’ll keep the attention where it is most important.


Filed under Martini Madness