Mmmmmmm! Burritos for Good.


WOOHOO!  It’s “Chipotle-eve,” people!  Oh, yes. I’m already dreaming about burritos the size of my head and how good they are in my belly.  That’s right.  Our STARRY NIGHT PROM fundraiser at Chipotle is TOMORROW EVENING from 4 p.m. to 8 p.m.
See that flyer up there? ^^^  Download it to your phone or print it out from your computer.  Take it with you to Chipotle at 1390 S. Cooper St., Suite 100 in Arlington, TX on Saturday, April 21st from 4:00 pm to 8:00 pm and show it to the cashier when you order in-house. (Drive-thru doesn’t count.) Then Chipotle will donate 50% of the proceeds to STARRY NIGHT PROM!

Isn’t that awesome? You get to support this amazing opportunity for all Arlington ISD high school students with significant disabilities to attend an all-expenses paid prom especially for them…….and all you have to do is eat at Chipotle and tell them that you want to support Starry Night Prom.

Psst!  If you can’t print this or download it, down worry. You can just TELL the cashier that you want to support Starry Night Prom. It still counts. Please share this blog post with all your friends and family.  The more business that Chipotle gets that night supporting Starry Night Prom, the bigger our donation from them will be.

Thank you so much for your support.



White Privilege

So, like most Americans, I watched the videos flying around social media that show the arrest of two African-American men in a Philadelphia Starbucks for waiting on a third friend to show up before ordering.  And I was pissed for them and for their family and friends.  I was pissed that they had to force themselves to be calm and submissive to the police officers who should not have even been called in the first place, because I would have been loud as hell.  I was pissed that they were taken down to the precinct and arrested and fingerprinted and held in a cell until 12:30 the following morning, when they were released as though nothing had happened and they should just be okay with it. And I was pissed that EVERY OTHER CUSTOMER IN THE STORE stood up and told these arresting officers that they had not done anything wrong (these were witnesses!) and still they were taken away and humiliated and had their fingerprints put into the automated fingerprint identification system.  Due to some itchy and probably subconscious bigotry of a random Starbucks manager and his inability to say, “Order or get out,” or even more humanly, to be patient and give these two men the same patience he would have given any other white customer, these two men will now have difficulty getting a security clearance, a job that requires a background check, work with or volunteer with children or elderly. And all for the simple fact that their fingerprints will pop up in the database. I thought that I was as pissed as I could be.  I was wrong.  Because this morning, I saw this tweet:


I was sort of pissed because I thought, “Well, if no one had said anything, then they would be complicit in their silence.  And when we do stand up and say something, we’re still getting labeled with the word ‘privileged’ and damn. What do you want us to do?”

And then I realized Chris Evans’ point:  HE’S RIGHT.

It’s not about me.  He’s pointing out that this IS the privilege and, while I’ve always realized that I have it, I never asked for it. I never asked to be born white. He is condemning that one group of people has a privilege that the rest of the world doesn’t. Why should any of us have that privilege? It is less a criticism of my whiteness, than it is stating the obvious:  The white customers in the same Starbucks were ignored by the cops.  Had they been black and argued with the cops, they would have been arrested, too.

And that isn’t just an assumption on Chris Evans’ part.  This is something that we have all witnessed, either in real life or in video in the past.  In 2016, an African-American woman called the police in Fort Worth, Texas to report a white man for choking her son because he allegedly threw a piece of trash on the ground. The officer shows up, agrees that the boy shouldn’t have littered and did not even address the assault on the child. The mother argued with the cop and was clearly angry but not aggressive and he used the taser on her and her daughter who started to scream at the officer out of fear for her mother. The woman and her two daughters were arrested.

I thought about all of this and other filmed injustices that I have seen over the years.  I have come to the conclusion that I am not pissed at what Chris Evans tweeted out. I am pissed that it is true.

But I will continue to use my white privilege to stand up for the injustices of others. It and my voter registration card and my voice are really the only tools in my toolbox that I can use to help the situation.  I will continue to speak out.  I will continue to write letters.  I will continue to teach my kids that bigotry and ignorance and hate will only continue to hold them and everyone else back; that our differences are beautiful and something to be admired and cherished rather than hated or feared.  I will continue to be pissed about my fellow countrymen being treated unjustly, because the minute that I don’t, I will have become the oppressor via complacency.

Kroger Plus Card Swipes for Starry Night Prom

Hey, Texas and Louisiana folk! Do you want to support STARRY NIGHT PROM in the easiest way possible? GO GROCERY SHOPPING AT KROGER!
No, really!

Re-posting this past blog that shows you exactly how you do it! Get great deals from Kroger and help donate to a worthy cause!
(Pssst! Kroger donates a percentage with each Kroger Plus card swipe. It won’t cost you anything.)

The Deep Down


Are you one of those people who truly LOVES inspirational stories and programs and organizations that want to help all of the people with all of the things but you just don’t want to buy anymore cookie dough or wrapping paper or write anymore checks?! Yeah. I’m one of those, too.
So how can you help support STARRY NIGHT PROM and stay true to your Introverted tendencies? It’s easy. Go grocery shopping.


Yes. You read that right. GO GROCERY SHOPPING. But not just anywhere. Go to KROGER.

Here are the exact directions as outlined in the email we received from Kroger:

Kroger Community Rewards – Customer Instructions

A Digital Account is needed in order to participate in Kroger Community Rewards. If you already have a Digital Account, then please skip to the section named ‘Selecting an Organization’.
How to Register a Digital Account
Creating a digital account is…

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Women I Admire

Today is International Women’s Day, where we honor women who have made amazing contributions to the world.  Of course, we have the usual honorees, such as Frida Kahlo, Harriet Tubman, Marie Curie, Benazir Bhutto, Michelle Obama, Eleanor Roosevelt, Hanan AshrawiRuth Bader Ginsburg, Mary McLeod Bethune, and so many, many, more.

But I want to talk about some of the women who inspire me on the daily.  They aren’t famous, but they contribute to my life and the lives of many others within their communities.  They are women who are involved in helping others and kindness and giving back and they don’t think that they are heroes.  But they are.  And so, I’d like to dedicate my post today to them.  Here is my list of admired women, in no particular order.



Roslyn is the Family Engagement Liaison for Sam Houston High School in the Arlington ISD.  She serves over 3700 students, their parents, 254 teachers, community members, and local businesses.  She has held this position since 2006.  This woman is AMAZING.  She has  been the point of contact for marrying up parents and students and teachers with various resources over the years.  She began a monthly “Coffee with the Principal” where the principal meets with parents and community members each month and shares coffee and light snacks while discussing ongoing projects, events, and issues at the school.  This idea was picked up by many other FELs throughout the district and is a great way to keep communication open between school administrations and the parents of their students.  Roslyn continues to work with various local businesses such as Texas Trust Credit Union, Vive by Design, South Texas Dental, to name a few.  Roslyn is devoted to engaging parents in the Sam Houston High School family, not only because it is her job, but because she firmly believes that if these parents are able to access a walking club or aerobics lessons, classes in how to use a budget or apply for a credit union account, or find a good dentist locally, then the parents will know that this school is a trusted resource for them, as well as for their children.  Roslyn Burch has taken her role as Family Engagement Liaison to an entirely different level by engaging, not only the families, but the entire community.  She is a woman I admire because she is able to bring a variety of people and organizations together to work as a unit for the benefit of our students.  And that is not a small thing.  Roslyn Burch is also mother to two wonderful children, who remain her number one priority.



Sara is a Special Education teacher at Sam Houston High School.  She used to teach my daughter, Randa, who has Autism.  This woman has not only enriched the lives of all of her students, but also came up with an idea that would allow high school students with significant disabilities attend their own prom, leveling the social playing field and providing accommodations for some of the usual roadblocks that prevent these kids from attending their school prom.  Her vision became an Eagle Scout project for Chase Christenson, in 2008 and has since turned into the Starry Night Prom, a registered 501 (c) 3 Non-Profit Organization of which she is President.  Starry Night Prom is currently preparing to host their 11th all expenses paid prom.  Sara Mayo is also very active in her church, the Arlington Elks Lodge, advocating for special needs students in the community, the Angel Tree project, and RSD awareness.  She is mother to two amazing kids.



Venetia is one of those sensitive souls that will cry over any Kleenex commercial, but will fight fiercely for kids who have been dealt an injustice.  This woman amazes me.  She has six wonderful children, two grandchildren, and works a full-time job in the Arlington ISD, helps family members and friends in a moment’s notice, and advocates for the special needs community.  Venetia learned the rules of volleyball in order to support her daughters throughout their high school, select, and club volleyball careers.  She has been known to drive anywhere from three to seven hours to support her girls’ college teams.  She is currently using that same enthusiasm to support her youngest three children in their love for the fine arts, by researching music and singing to help them find the right  paths for honing their crafts.  Venetia Wilson is passionate in everything that she does, from helping other parents to shape their student’s IEP to insisting that Coca-Cola is a vegetable.  She’s an engaged member of our community and an awesome source of inspiration.



Monika is a recovering attorney, mother of two amazing kids, chronic volunteer, and the craftiest person I’ve ever met.  She is where creativity, intelligence, beauty, and hilarity meet.  Her ability to juggle so many commitments to school, work, and family and still manage to remember to go home and feed the dog, makes her the poster child for Multi-Tasker of the Year.  I love that she keeps her law license current and chooses the cases that she wants to take.  Monika has inspired her children to consider their own impact on the world around them by encouraging them to be kind to others, participate in inclusive events such as the Women’s March, and to appreciate nature in all its forms of beauty.  She is the Co-Chair of Programs and Publicity for the Arts Board at Trinity Valley School in Fort Worth.  She is a recurring donor for the Starry Night Prom in Arlington.  She is an amazing mom, aunt, and sister (mine!) and everything she does seems effortless, even though I know that it isn’t.  She inspires me to be a better me.


My list of women I admire is not, by any means, limited to these four women.  It is actually quite an extensive list of hundreds of women and I add more to it all the time.  I am merely shining a spotlight on these four today.  I am planning to highlight more in the coming weeks.  In the mean time, remember that we should all support one another in our endeavors.  Women are awesome by nature and we should encourage that awesomeness in each other as frequently as we can.  It keeps us all strong and promotes kindness and solidarity.

Happy International Women’s Day.

Conversations Inside My Head and Out


Daughter:  I can’t believe that I’m going to graduate high school in only seventy-one days.

Me:  WHAT?!


Daughter:  Yeah, I can’t wait.  I mean, I kind of don’t want to graduate but then this big part of me cannot wait until I’m done.  But you know, I will miss it.

Me:  It’s going by too fast.  I’m not ready for this.


Daughter:  I’m not sure I’m ready for this, either.  I mean, I am but I’m not.  But I get excited thinking about college and stuff.  Are you…Mom?  Why are you crying?

Me:  I don’t feel like I’ve had you all to myself long enough.  I’m not ready to share you with the world yet.


Daughter:  Aww, Mommy!  I’m not leaving you.  I’m just going to college and I decided to go to the one that’s only twenty minutes away.  I’ll still be living at home.  We’ll still hang out and stuff.  I love you.  I’m  not leaving you.

Me:  I know it.  But I can’t talk about it without turning into a walking Kleenex commercial anymore.  It’s like I blinked and you grew up without asking me for my permission first.


Daughter:  Do you want me to stop talking about graduation?

Me:  Yes, please.  Just for a few days until I can let my feelings catch up to the reality of it all.


Daughter:  I’ll always need you, Mom.

Me:  Quit reading my mind.  Let’s go shopping.

“You’re Irish! I love you!”

My grandmother died on Monday.  She was the last living grandparent I had. She was born in 1926, married young, and raised a large family.  Oh, no.  Not large.  I mean, LARGE.  As of today, my grandmother had 11 children, 46 grandchildren, 119 great-grandchildren with 2 more on the way, and 10 great-great-grandchildren.  Of those 46 grandchildren, I am firstborn.

My earliest memories of my grandmother are of her earrings. She had these clip on earrings that were gold colored and had a single white cube with a black horizontal stripe going around it. She wore them with a black and white polyester dress.  She had icy blue eyes that you were just drawn to with her white face surrounded by dark, nearly black hair.  She was a beautiful woman and I called her “Grandma.”

When I was three or four, I attended a German Kindergarten school.  My father was in the military and we were stationed at a small post in northern Germany.  My grandparents came to visit us there when I was almost five.  They came with my mother to pick me up from school.  I had on a pale yellow dress with a sash in the back and tights that had started out white that morning, but by the time we left school, had managed to become the same dingy color as the sand I’d played in on the playground.  I introduced her to my German friends as my “Oma.”  She asked me what that meant.  I told her that it means “Grandma” in German.  From that moment on, she was known as “Oma.”

We were away a lot due to my dad’s career in the Army.  But we spent several summers and Christmases in El Paso at my Oma’s house.  I remember the short counter-bar that seemed to go for miles dividing her kitchen and den.  We somehow managed to cram as many chairs and people around it to eat.  It was so big to my young eyes.  When I went back to visit at nineteen, it looked as though only eight people could sit there comfortably.

Pink aluminum bathroom tiles, green painted cement floors, cherry jello with cottage cheese and pecans in it, that horrible autumn print couch that EVERY family owned in the 1980’s, baby blue Gran Torinos, adobe bricks, and wind-out windows all remind me of her house in El Paso.  After seventh grade, I never went back to El Paso to live.  I flew the coop at 17 and worked on the east coast for a number of years, coming home every couple of years for the holidays.  Christmas at Oma’s house was always hilarious.  When you get that many Irish people into one house with that much alcohol and gifts received the year (or years) before that have been re-wrapped with new paper and ribbons to be re-gifted to someone else, you have a recipe for funny.  There were songs and jokes and laughing and polyester pajamas and kids. Lots and lots of kids.

Oma loved to write poetry and watch game shows.  She loved Texas and the USA and had many pins and sweaters with flags on them.  She liked flowers, red lipstick, and the 4th of July.  She drove like a bat out of Hell to get to mass on time.  And Oma loved to remind us of how Irish our roots are.  Clearly, we inherited that Irish tradition to procreate.  Did I mention 11 children, 46 grandchildren and nearly 121 great-grandchildren and 10 great-great-grandchildren?

Mary Lou Nance Ivey, you will be missed but your legacy lives on.




Choosing My Happy

“Happiness is a choice.”

That’s what the sign says on my sister’s kitchen counter.  My eyes are drawn to it every time I climb up on one of her tall kitchen bar stools when I visit.  It’s placement is perfect.  It’s right next to the coffee pot, just seemingly taunting me and asking me if I’ve made the right choice today.  Well, duh.  Of course, I have.  I see the sign in my sister’s kitchen next to the coffee pot.  Obviously, I chose to come see her AND have a cup of coffee; two things that really get my happy on.

But there are days when I don’t.  There are days– okay, EVERY day– when my neighbor opens her front door to let her dog “walk” himself down to poop in front of my mailbox that I really want to choose rage and cursing.  And this is usually the same day that I find an empty fast food drink cup that my son’s best friend tossed out of his car window the night before in front of my house while he was waiting to pick him up.  And this is after I realize that the kids have drunk up the last of the coffee before I have a second cup.  And all I see is red.

And I remember to breathe in and out.  And I imagine that sign in my sister’s kitchen.  And I remember that it speaks truth.  “Happiness is a choice.”  And I breathe in and out again.  And I relax my throwing arm and put my favorite coffee cup in the sink.  I put on my hijab and grab my purse and car keys and head out to put my things in my car.  I walk down to the curb in front of my house and pick up the empty cup from the gutter. I walk over to the mailbox and scoop up the neighbor’s misplaced dog poop and walk two doors up and return it to its rightful place:  In front of HER mailbox.  Then I toss the empty cup over the fence to my backyard for proper disposal later.  And I realize that I AM happy.  I have chosen my happy.  I reach into my glove box and pull out my hand sanitizer and clean any garbage/fecal germs from my hands.  Then I start my car and head happily to the supermarket to buy more coffee.



The Little Things

He wakes me gently to let me know he’s leaving for work, because he knows that I have a little panic attack when I wake up and he’s not there.  He covers me up with the crocheted afghan, because he knows that I get cold even though I insist on sleeping with one foot poking out from under the covers to regulate my body temperature.  He leaves my coffee cup on the counter next to the pot, because he knows that while I can function in the morning without coffee, that I do so with only one eye open and it sometimes scares the kids when their mother looks like Popeye.  He calls me around lunch time, because he wants to check in and see how my day is going.  He always laughs and says “too much” when I ask him how much he loves me on the phone, and I know it’s true.  And when I teased him last night at dinner about how lucky he is that his wife is such a fabulous cook and gorgeous to boot, he laughed and agreed.  And today I will go about my regular errands to the bank and the grocery store and I will drive to west Dallas to the junk yard to pull a seat belt fastener from a van like his and surprise him with it, because I know he needs one as his doesn’t work properly.  And I’ll probably make lentils tonight because I know how much he loves them.

It really is the little things that make us happy.  And that’s a big thing.

I’m a Genius

Deep inside my head must look like one of those synapses images of the neurotransmitters.  You know the ones.  With the pale outline of the head on a black background with exploding white and blue lights all over where the brain is located.  At least in my mind, it looks like that.  (Probably a single flash cube on a Kodak Instamatic camera going off in 1973 is more accurate an image.  I digress.)

I think that my husband thinks that I am crazy.  Perhaps he is right.  We had so many arguments in the first few years of our marriage.  He would ask me a question and I’d answer it, but not before going around in a circle.  He would lose his cool and be shouting at me, “But what does any of that have to do with my question?!  I ask you for the time and you give me directions on how to build a clock!!”  Well, not true.  If he’d have waited and heard the last sentence, instead of interrupting me with that clock crap, he would have understood my Grasshopper wisdom and seen how amazingly bright I am.  But this kind of thing continued to happen until he finally got too old to argue and then listened one day.  Granted, we’d already been together 15 years by then.  But you know.  Welcome to the party.  Your wife’s a fucking genius.  She just talks circularly.

So, what kind of wisdom is going on in this big, honking brain of mine?  Not much.  It’s mostly filled with questions.  Occasionally, I discover answers and then file them away in my brain rolodex to be called upon when I need them for important events, such as, proving one of my teenagers is wrong or during a hot game of Trivial Pursuit.  But mostly, it’s just questions.  Here are some examples:

  1.  Am I ever going to finish this freaking novel that I started writing in 2010?
  2.  Is Rhythm really a dancer?
  3.  What am I going to make for dinner tonight?
  4.  Did I remember to hide my personal calendar on my phone before letting Randa play on it?  Oh shit!  I didn’t.  Too late.  She deleted all her doctors and dentist appointments. Crap.
  5.  Does Adam Levine REALLY have the moves like Jagger?
  6.  Will anyone notice that dust buffalo rolling under the rocking chair if I keep directing their attention to the new curtains?
  7.  No, really.  Will I get this novel published before I turn 60?
  8.  Why do I have so few followers on my blog? I’m friggin’ hilarious. Why don’t they like me?
  9.  I wonder if Ozzy really thought that Sharon was just going to keep taking his crap after all he’s done over the years. Huh. I guess she is…they’ve renewed their vows. 

I don’t know that I will ever know the answers to these questions.  But I do know that all 9 of those questions popped in and out of my head within a 4 second time period.  That’s not over the course of a whole week.  And I did manage to answer question 3.  I’m making chili because it’s flipping cold outside and I have most of the ingredients on hand.

I know that I will publish this novel one day.  I know that whether or not people comment on my blog posts or “like” them that they like them.  I like to think that Rhythm IS a dancer and that Adam Levine does have the moves like Jagger and that if I talk fast enough and keep everyone with access to the amazing food that I make and serve them, that no one will notice that dust buffalo under my rocking chair and they will ooh and aah over my new curtains.  I keep a list of Randa’s appointments in the roll top desk so I can always add them back into my calendar and hide it from the phone calendar.  And I give Sharon loyalty points for trying to stick with her marriage, even if Ozzy is, though musically brilliant, a giant dumb ass for not kissing her feet every day that she has tolerated his bullshit.

I told you I think circularly.



2017…Weirdly Wonderful; Sadly Joyful

This is the time that most writers (and you know, us wannabe-writers) sit back and reflect on the year as it winds down. So, in an effort to continue my aspiring writer efforts, I’ll do that today.  No, you don’t need to go get another coffee, sandwich or bottle of booze.  My life is pretty wrapped up  in what goes on in my house, so this won’t take long.  *Deep breath*  Here goes:

While 2017 ushered in the most inexperienced, narcissistic, and immature President in American history, it said goodbye to the best President and First Lady that I’ve ever seen in my lifetime.  I guess the stand-up comics and late night television hosts are happy that their 8-year hiatus has ended and they once again have gainful employment.

I got to continue my participation in hosting the Starry Night Prom. 2017 was our Tenth Anniversary Prom and it was a smash hit!  I will always love this program, as it levels the social playing field for kids who tend to miss out on a lot of the high school experiences. We have already started fundraising for next year’s Starry Night Prom and are hoping to make it even better.

We lost several family members this year, including my favorite uncle and newborn nephew.  We mourned their leaving us and embraced our opportunities to practice the patience that God blessed us with during these difficult times. Their memories live on in our hearts.

My second and third children graduated from high school this year.  I cried doubly hard after I escorted my special needs daughter across the stage to receive her diploma.  Mostly, I cried tears of pride and joy.  But a few relief tears were flowing, that she didn’t cuss out the principal or yell at (too many) of those in the front row applauding.  She doesn’t like noise, so this was really hard for her.  My son, who walked across the stage just before his sister, was also grateful that she did well and didn’t embarrass him.

I lost my “eggplant”- my little 3-cylinder car.  But my sweet brother drove up from Austin and gave me a Mazda SUV.  What a guy! That car was the reliable transportation for nearly a year, in this family.   But with the number of errands/carpools I have to do with all of the kids in all of the places, I was beginning to sweat from spending more time at the gas station than in my kitchen.  Then my husband bought me a Hyundai.  The men in my life are (and always have been) such a blessing to me. From my dad and my brother, to my husband and my three amazing sons, I know that I am loved.

My younger daughter was accepted to several fantastic colleges, complete with dean’s scholarships.  She got to throw out the ceremonial first pitch at a Texas Rangers baseball game in September and to meet Matthew McConaughey.  She also started a new job this year at a fast-food restaurant and her brother got a job at another restaurant.  My oldest son made some hard choices about his health this year and is hopefully on his way to becoming healthier.  My youngest son has come to some realizations about his future and is now considering more than just “gaming” as a career choice.

We have had some ups and downs, but we are grateful for all of them. Without one, we wouldn’t recognize the other.  We need them both to give us hope and to keep us grounded.  We’re overall happy.  And for all of it, I am grateful.  May your New Year be full of opportunities and good choices.