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After one month in 2026, I’m checking in on my goals and my three words. It’s the perfect time to remind myself of what I’ve set out to achieve and the decisions I made early this year.

First, my goals.

• Finish my book – Underway. I want to finish it in the first quarter or so this year. This one is on surviving loss and toxic family systems. I’m also starting a book on what it means to drive effective communications in organizations today.
• Take the right supplements for my health and fitness – I’ve decided what’s right for me and have started to take them.
• Consider a career pivot to grant writing – I’m still thinking about this. I’m not quite sure it’s for me yet.

Then, here are my three words for the year as a reminder to me:

• Ease: Defined as to be calm and relaxed.
• Peace. This is about also about calmness, quiet and inner focus.
• Purpose. For me, this means a life well-lived and aligned with my values and how I can make a difference. 

That’s my purpose for the year – to keep it  top of mind and to keep plugging away at all this.

Scared is defined as being thrown into or being in a state of fear, fright or panic. Depending on the situation, I have been scared. I hate spiders and any creepy crawly things. There have been moments in my life when I’ve been scared. When I got pregnant at 23, I was scared. When Rob left me at one point, I was scared. When I was laid off from a j0b, I was scared. 

But I’ve survived. And I’ve thrived.

In life, I’ve had different chapters in my life. Each person does. I believe there is power in life story. While that doesn’t mean it has to be in an actual b00k, life is a like a bo0k.

Looking back over my life so far, I’ve had super ups and equal downs. And I’ve been scared. That’s life, after all. I’ve loved. I’ve lost. I’ve found the love of my life. (P.S. It’s all with the same person, my husband!)

My daughter has always been central to my life purpose. Children tend to be that. She surely is for me. I raised her on my own and that was scary. That’s quite a point of pride for me. However, I’m super proud of the woman she’s become.

I’ve had great jobs, shit jobs and no jobs. It can be scary. The more I think of it, not having a job gives me a unique peace. That said, money is necessary for life, especially as we plan for retirement.

So, as I think about life in the extremes, it can be scary, but I’m not scared to start a huge new chapter or story of my life. To do that, I need to dig deep and be as confident as possible. Additionally, I’m fully committed to my self-care and not afraid to speaking my truth.

Looking back on some of the above events, I did hard things. In my actions, I wasn’t afraid. I survived a break up. I survived a j0b lay0ff. I survived being pregnant and having a child. I was n0t afraid.

I’l continue t0 be unafraid. One day at a time. One life event at a time. Change is the new norm. Perhaps my new story will be better, and I’m n0t scared.

 

There is the bible verse that says, “He who is without sin can cast the first stone.”

What that means to me is it’s important to remain humble. That’s not easy. It’s easier to pass judgement and speak from a position of power. But that’s not what the verse is about. It’s really about how no one is more important than anyone else.

Additionally, part of staying humble is to treat others how you’d want to be treated. That’s the Golden Rule. It’s one of my core values.

There’s another perspective when it comes to throwing stones or rocks. When others throw rocks at me, I keep them. I gather them and save them. Then I build a castle with them. It shows others that what ever they do to me, I make the best of it and that they can’t faze me.

But it’s an opportunity to let others know that I also have specific boundaries. That means how I will and will not allow others to treat me. These boundaries matter tons to me. It’s truly part of who I am. Make no mistake about it: I have no problem of cutting toxic individuals out of my life.

That’s why when someone throws stones at me, I build a beautiful, tall castle to let others know that I have my plans and dreams. In summary, stay humble and treat others how you’d want to be treated.

It has self care and peace at its core.

(Note: This post includes salty language. If fucking cursing bothers you, you may not want to read further.)

My father died Sunday, Dec. 28, 2025. I found out late afternoon Tuesday, Dec. 30, along with other extended family like aunts, uncles and cousins. Additionally shitty, my daughter had to call me to tell me. No other family had the balls or intestinal fortitude to tell me, including my cunt mother.

Here is his obituary.

He died in his sleep. My toxic, controlling biological family waited about 48 hours to let me know. I’m sure they knew first thing Sunday morning when he died.

Am I sad? No. I’m more angry than anything. Did I get to review the obituary? No. Did I to help plan his funeral Mass? No. Why is that? My two sisters and my mother control everything. In fact, I believe my sisters control my mother.

As the oldest daughter of three, I don’t matter to them. And that’s truly ok. Really. I’m actually pretty proud to be the black sheep.

Here’s a stupid example. The obit says my dad was known as “Papa Pat.” Maybe to some grandkids. My daughter, the oldest grandchild, called him Grandpa. (Here’s a photo of my daughter, Madden, with her Grandpa when she graduated from Notre Dame.) I asked that the one word “Grandpa” to be added to the obit which the funeral home did. On checking it again, my controlling biological family removed that one word. How fucking petty. But that’s who they all are.

At least they are being consistent as controlling shrews and cunts. I’ll give them that.  And my brothers-in-law continue to be pussies. Add to that, they’re the worst kind of Catholics. Those who judge others and think they are holier than thou. It’s hypocrisy personified. That’s not how I practice my Catholic faith.

Am I bitter? Eh. And here’s why. They put my father into memory care and he’d been there for a year before I found out by complete accident. When an uncle told me, he felt guilty about letting me know. It must have been something that I was never meant to find out at all.

My biological family left me out of the decision to put my dad into memory care and more: My mom, my two sisters and my two brothers-in-laws were all guilty of leaving me out.

I did visit my dad occasionally. I was trying to give him the benefit of the doubt because of the deterioration of his mind. However, he was complicit in originally leaving me out by not letting me know he’d been entered into memory care. As others moved him in, did he not ask where his oldest daughter was during all of this? No he didn’t. I won’t forgive him for that, even in his death.

That’s why, eventually, I stopped visiting my dad. It wasn’t good for my mental health. Then, as the cunt my mom is, she had her attorney send me a letter early in 2025 to let me know if I wanted to visit my dad, I was to reach out to him to schedule it and not to contact my mother. Additionally, the two-bit attorney told me my badge to access where my dad was had been discontinued.

While my badge, in fact had not been cut, I did go to see my dad. One time, I went to see him to clean the clutter in his room – fold blankets and random clothes and dusted. No one had dusted his room for a very long time, if at all. It was sad how dusty it was, in fact. He wasn’t happy I did that, and, so, that was the last time I saw him.

Then, my mother eventually did cut my card access. That’s when I wrote a letter to my dad explaining why I wasn’t visiting him anymore. I sent it via email.

As a result, with my father’s funeral events (visitation, funeral Mass and internment happening this week), I am going to be at the events. The fucking controlling nature of my biological family is not going to keep me away.

I have asked my husband to help run interference for me. There’s no need for me to engage with anyone – my cunt mom and sisters or my pussy brothers-in-law.

So, the fact my father is dead is a weird experience because of my lack of feeling or emotion. This is the same man who didn’t talk to me for 9 months when I got pregnant out of wedlock. Then, in his obituary, it emphasizes his Catholic faith. “His Catholic faith led him in every phase of his life.” He’s yet another hypocritical Catholic.

Fuck supporting me as I was pregnant and scared. I had my baby and didn’t have an abortion. I did the Catholic thing. I had my baby who grew up to be an amazing woman. I raised her on my own with not even a penny from my parents.

When I was about 7 months pregnant, my mother cornered me in their downstairs bathroom to urge me to give my baby up for adoption. Once I said no, she should not have brought it up again. But, instead, she started to browbeat me and had me in a fetal position as I cried. True to who she is, she tried to control what I did. Fuck her. She’s a controlling shrew.

I asked one thing: That I could help lay the pall on the casket. I shared that with my daughter (who I believe shared it with my sisters, I’m not quite clear on that), and I shared it with the funeral home co-CEO. Well, that didn’t happen. Instead, my cunt mother and cunt sisters laid the pall on the casket in on the casket. Again, at least the cunts are consistent. Yep.

This entire thing was my cunt mother’s show. She revelled in the attention. She may have actually had a three-day orgasm.

My shit biological family may control the obituary content and the funeral Mass arrangements, but they can’t determine what I attend. I get to make that decision. Me. Not any of them.

So, the fact that I have absence of emotion about my father’s death makes complete sense to me. It may be unfortunate, but it’s the truth. I’m trying to just be in the moment as I attend events for him.

Happy Fucking New Year….

Quick update Jan. 5: At the visitation for my dad tonight, they had a cop on-site. It was, of course, to keep an eye on us. Again, FUCK my biological family for doing that  But I’m actually thrilled they spent money on a cop. It’s reprehensible of them. Cunts.

Another update Jan. 6: My father’s funeral was today. There was another cop at the church. Again, happy they spent the money on it. As we did last night, we introduced ourselves to the cop. What did the fuckers expect? Unruliness from us? So sorry to disappoint them!

Jan. 7: IT’S DONE! Yay! With internment today at Fort Snelling, all funeral related events are done. No more time spent with the horrid, evil biological individuals. I can breathe again. My shoulders now feel relaxed. Hopefully, I’ll sleep like a baby tonight!

 

Happy New Year! 2026 starts this week. As crazy as that sounds, it’s also amazing because it’s an opportunity for a fresh start. That means doing what I set out to accomplish with no excuses. Full stop.

This is also the time of the year when I set my three words for the new year.

The three words are intended to guide my actions and should match my goals for the coming year.

Here are my words for 2026 and my thoughts about why I selected them. Hopefully you’ll see a theme of what I’m calling in for next year. I call it my peace and quiet year.

Ease: Defined as to make calm and relaxed, I want to bring ease into all areas of my life. Ease is similar to easy. While life isn’t easy, you can live it with a sense of ease. That’s my goal this year.

Peace. This is kind of related to ease but this is more about calmness, quiet and inner focus. For me, it’s about prayer, meditation, mindset and fully feeling aware. Peace for me is like falling asleep in savasana, the practice when you gradually relax one body one part at a time, one muscle at a time, and one thought at a time. It conditions the body to release stress and can improve your sense of physical and emotional well-being.

Purpose. This is the reason for which something is done or created or for which something exists. It may be the purpose of or a strong sense of determination and meaning in one’s life. For me, purpose means a life well-lived aligned with my values. It means understanding how I can make a difference one day at a time. 

Now, it’s about making these words my focus for 2026. It’s writing them down and committing them to memory. Here’s to the new year and a new focus!

This week is special. Christmas is about time with family and loved ones.  It’s also about and spending it at special places like up north. We’ll enjoy fires in the fireplace and reading books and writing.

(This year, we are struggling with colds, so that’s not great.)

Christmas Eve we are having lunch with Rob and his older son. It’s also a time to spend with friends. We spend it at our local watering hole after an early Mass. We’ve really developed some special friends and enjoy good conversation.

Christmas Day is all about family. My daughter hosts our traditional Christmas breakfast of coffee cake/monkey bread, bacon and eggs. It’s become a tradition in its own right to have breakfast at her place. I love being with her and her pets Ron the cat and Stella the corgi. We look forward to it.

Other special food we cook includes goulash with potato dumplings around New Years Eve. We will also have a turkey with all the trimmings in the week between Christmas and New Years. Yum!

I’m super excited that my love, Rob, will be home with many days off. Time off is especially good for him right now. I get really used to having him home that when he goes back to work, I miss him a lot.

Christmas is really about love, joy, relaxation and time with those who really matter.

Merry Christmas!

We just returned from a wonderful trip across the pond. No, we didn’t go to London or part of the United Kingdom, not exactly. We did go to Northern Ireland, part of the United Kingdom, with a trip to Belfast to kick off our overall trip which also included Dublin.

First, in Belfast some terminology is important. Nationalists or Republicans wanted Northern Ireland to separate form the United Kingdom and be part of one Ireland. Unionists or Loyalists wanted Northern Ireland to remain part of the United Kingdom.

Now, on to our Belfast trip. This was a new city for both of us. Rob led us on a Troubles tour. The Troubles were a period of violent sectarian conflict from about 1968 to 1998. The conflict was primarily between the Protestant unionists and the largely Roman Catholic nationalists.

The conflict resulted in approximately 3,600 deaths and more than 30,000 injuries. The Good Friday Agreement in 1998 sought to bring an end to the Troubles by establishing a government in Northern Ireland and fostering cooperation between Ireland and the United Kingdom

Now about our Troubles tour. We walked Falls Road, which is the Catholic area. Highlights included:

• A mural of Bobby Sands who led a hunger strike in a prison and was one of many others who died.
• We also walked through the Garden of Remembrance to all the people who were injured or died in the area.
• Then, we visited the Eileen Hickey Irish Republican History Museum. Eileen and her sister, Susan, put the museum together with amazing artifacts. Eileen was part of the IRA until she died.
• We also went to the Falls Road museum which included history from the start of how Protestants and Catholics treated each other to the Friday Agreement and peace.

As part of the Troubles, we explored the other side and walked Shankill Road. This area was more Protestant and commemorated the police and military who were injured and died in the challenges. When we told others that we walked the sights here, they thought we were brave to do so. I guess it wasn’t necessarily the safest place to explore. We never felt scared.

Now, on to the rest of our trip to Dublin. We flew in and out of Dublin. The non-stop flights spoil us. Rob and I had each been to Dublin previously, but not together until this trip.

 

Here are some highlights of the trip:

• We walked to Phoenix Park to see the massive cross that marks the spot where St. John Paul II said Mass to masses in the surrounding green spaces.
• We took a day-trip to the small seaside town of Howth. Just a 25 minute local trian ride from Dublin, we walked, had an amazing seafood lunch, and were back in the city by about 430 p.m. locally.
• One of our favorite spots (not right in city center) was called the Snug, which is a much smaller bar next to a bigger one. They had a wood-burning fireplace!
• Rob’s friend Allan often visits Dublin. On our last night in Dublin, we were going to spend time with him, when lo’ and behold – all of Rob’s college buddies showed up! Every one of the six of them were there for dinner and bar stops.

 

Overall, our trips like this include a lot of walking, exploring areas, drinking local spirits or beers, and eating what makes the city special. From Belfast history to Dublin special experiences, it was a great trip!

(Note: This post uses curse words and foul language. Read with caution!)

The word “cunt,” while considered an offensive word, is less taboo than in prior generations. It’s also less offensive in other parts of the world than in the U.S. still.

It’s a general term to describe jerks or idiots of either sex, not just women. So, I love to use the term to describe people who are just assholes.

A cunt is someone who is a horrid person. I’d consider someone a cunt if they are toxic or treat other people like shit.

Once I start using the word, all other expletives followed. Maybe that’s the beauty of the word.

I just know when someone I’m interacting with or have history with is a cunt. It can be pretty clear. And like I said at the beginning, that could be male or female. When I call a man a cunt, it’s an extra insult.

Unfortunately, I’ve called a key female family member, actually all female members in my estranged biological family, cunts. It fits them to a T.

One of my favorite series on HBO, Somebody Somewhere, use that word a lot. One sister starts making cunt pillows. The word takes on a life of its own. Some of the lines are hilarious.For example, “I can’t hear you” becomes “I cunt hear you” or “I cunt say.” If you haven’t watched that series, you’re missing out on something special.

Swearing, using foul language, and being creative can be fun. That’s why I really enjoy saying the word cunt. Judge me as you like. I don’t really care!

I have started a book. It’s been something I revisit, edit a bit,  write a few hundred words and leave it. In early 2026, h0wever, that procrastination stops.

It’s time to get serious about writing my book. My goal is to finish it in the first quarter 2026. Yes, I’ve said that. Now, it’s time to hold myself accountable to this timeline.

My book is a sort of memoir. It is about parts of my life and how elements formed me and continue to shape me. Specifically, it’s about h0w I grew up in a toxic family ecosystem, the related trauma and how to survive, thrive and break the nasty cycle.

Other parts include the wonderful grace of my daughter, Madden, and husband, Rob, and how they’ve changed my life for the better. So, the book isn’t all about the shit, but of the wonder and joy.

Stay tuned!

Thanksgiving is this week. It’s one of my favorite days of the year. It’s not from growing up and enjoying it. In fact, I have few memories of Thanksgiving.

Thanksgiving is all about gratitude. It’s such an easy word with big meaning. What does it really mean to be grateful?

I believe it means knowing and believing that, despite challenges, we are blessed and lucky for all we have. I don’t mean things, necessarily. I’m thinking more about gratitude for health. Gratitude for love and my loved ones and friends. Gratitude for a warm house and food on our plates. So, gratitude really is simple but complex.

Back to Thanksgiving. The day so special because we’ve built our own traditions as a small family, especially when it was just me and Madden. One of the companies I worked for early in my career gave each of us a turkey in advance of Thanksgiving. We made traditional fare and we did it together more and more as Madden got older.

Now add my husband, Rob to the mix. He’s a turkey aficionado. He says he gives the turkey lots of love. And it works!

Add to it part of Rob’s family traditional foods like rice, and add some of mine like sweet potatoes and roasted root veggies.

Another tradition that Madden and I started and that we do now is to go around the table and say what we’re grateful for. It’s one of my favorite traditions.

Most recently, Rob and I tend to travel on this day. That also makes it special for us and has become a bit of a tradition.

But as a family, celebrating Thanksgiving and being together over food is one of the best things. I’m grateful for my little family most of all!