Vanity will get you one eyebrow—less

Yes.  Most of my blog posting comes with utter truths of utter failures.

This one comes to you with the proclamation that I am also vain.

And that got me one eyebrow.

You know when you age?  Like, you know, are no longer 18.

It’s like chin hair pops up.  And out.

And, like, your baby belly never goes away.  But my daughter told me that my belly is squishy and comfy.  That makes it all alright, right?!

Do you remember a recent post I wrote about the horrifying “wax your mustache, madam?” ???????!!!!!!!

If you don’t, please click here.  It did not entertain me in the least (smile and wink).

Anyhow—I’m going to one up that cosmetician and post something FAR MORE HORRIFYING than mustache waxing…

And it all comes back to my eyebrows!

I say “back to” my eyebrows—because these eyebrows are ever so famous on this here blog…

If you don’t know the henna story, click here!

But let’s not dawdle on the past—it’s time I bring you present day…

To my one eyebrow.

So, I was looking in the mirror the other day.

When your children grow just old enough to let you actually shower and look in the mirror, that’s when you realize that you’re not only tired—but also…

(Insert My Big Fat Greek Wedding voice here)

“Getting old.”

Like, seriously, my eyebrows were crazy.

And I am seeing things.

Like going a bit senile.

I could SWEAR I saw some white hair.  I would like to say shiny silver…but my hair seems to be skipping that blending stage and heading for Santa Claus white.

And they were in the tip top portion of my forehead and on my eyebrows.

And they were sticking out…Like straight out.

I looked like I was heading towards the portrait of Groucho Marx, except living in Poland.  And being a woman.  And not being born in 1890—although my 10-year-old probably does think I was born WAY BACK THEN.

That is when brilliance struck me.  I didn’t want to waste precious and painful time plucking eyebrows—I would just use this super easy cosmetic razor and give them a little control zip.

So I dug it out and zipped…

That’s when I heard it.  It wasn’t the gentle hum of the razor guard.  It was the vicious roar of electrifying laughter shouting, “I’m going to get you eyebrows…zip.  Zip!”

And sure enough the razor won.  I lost.

An eyebrow, that is.

And so—I painted on eyebrows for weeks with the hilarious, tears rolling down your face, exclamations from my daughter—“Why are your eyebrows BLUE today???!!!”

I’ll tell you why, smart girl…because I never learned how to paint on eyebrows.

Or apparently groom at all…

Here’s to you and all of your crazy!  I’m here to make you feel normal and victorious each and every day!


And, go ahead…make your friend’s day.  Like and share.  My eyebrow can handle it!

Be Overwhelmed by Grace

Earlier in the summer, I got to share how absolutely beautiful YOU are.

And I am here today to tell you that you are not to let anybody or any voice tell you differently.

The thing is…sometimes we do.

We listen to others and what they have to say to us and about us—even if it’s not the truth.

We listen to society as it judges us—even though it does not know us.

And we listen to how Satan diminishes us—even if we have been told that he has NO HOLD over us.

I just want you to know:

You are not to live a life of shame.

You are not to live a life of guilt.

You are not to live a life of ugly…

You are set free in Christ!

You are beautiful in Christ!

You are not what others say you are.

You are only who Christ says you are…


And His mercies are NEW every morning.

Great is His faithfulness.

Friends—we sometimes allow others to overrule the only voice that has any weight in our being—God’s.

Don’t do that.

Let him heal the past.

Forgive the hurts.

Cleanse the wrongs.

You are beautiful.

You are worthy.

“But when the goodness and loving kindness of God our Savior appeared, he saved us, not because of works done by us in righteousness, but according to his own mercy, by the washing of regeneration and renewal of the Holy Spirit, whom he poured out on us richly through Jesus Christ our Savior, so that being justified by his grace we might become heirs according to the hope of eternal life.”  Titus 3:4-7

First time parent versus meh—how many kids do I have now parent


Totally laughing over here as I write this post.

And I can totally laugh because it was 100% me—10 years ago.  You know.  When I first became a mom.

Now that I’m 3 kids in and 10 years later—I am SO not that parent.

I was at the playground the other day with my two #littles (ages 2 and 4) waiting for my #oldest to finish a lesson.

At the playground there was a first-time parent.

The parent was like “Do this…Throw that…Jump high!!!  Blow kisses…Wave Bye-Bye!”

And I was like, “Oh—that is so sweet.  Wow!  How smart!  So precious!  Kiss-kiss—Bye-bye!”

But my own two littles were like …

“I too scared!!!”

Me:  So don’t climb it.

“Blurba-blurba-blurba-blurba” (sticking tongue out at other children)

Me:  roll eyes and go back to my phone


Me:  That’s not nice to say to a little girl.  Roll eyes.  Go back to phone.

Other parent:  Catch and throw!  Catch and throw!

Me:  Hmmm…Where did my children go?  Oh—don’t touch that glass.  Yes, you can still play there—just watch the broken glass.

I really was so entertained watching the way that I walked the play area with my two littles knowing that they are perfectly normal.  Sometimes they like to climb things.  Sometimes they fall.  Sometimes they don’t like to climb things.  Sometimes they pick up cigarettes and put them in their mouths.

Sometimes they pee their pants.

Oftentimes they yell really loudly in front of others.

They pick their noses.

And sometimes eat their boogers.

And they like to proclaim really really publicly at this stage of their lives “OOOOH!  THAT’S GROSS!”  whenever anyone tries to shake their hands or kiss their faces.

I just smile and say, “They have strong characters!  May God use them greatly!”

I mean…my firstborn—she could wallop Hillary and the Donald in a debate.

My last two—I am just happy if they don’t take the goldfish out of the tank and eat them for dinner.

First time parents…

Ah…I ’twas you so many moons ago.

But, I gotta admit—It’s WAY easier being me today!

(Smile and wink and wipe boogers and bottoms and clean pee off the floor and it’s okay to eat your dinner without washing your hands today—just maybe think about washing your hands later—and, oh yeah—have you brushed your teeth this week?????)


My top 6 #Back2School items for an allergy kid!

well—if you are an allergy or gluten mommy and you think you remember everything for back to school…perhaps you haven’t. this was a GREAT blog with a short list of awesome reminders of perhaps things you can do to make your life /// and your kid’s life a little easier. enjoy the read!
xo b

GlutenFree & Me…. (and everything in between!)

So, Im one of those mums remember? (Eye roll as you see fit). As one of those mums back to school is a little bit harder, and a little bit more stressful. Whether you are new to the allergy / celiac game or an old timer, my list of must haves may help make your life a teeny bit easier. Aili was diagnosed as a baby, not yet 2 years old, now she is over 7, and making sure I have these allergy must haves around is totally routine.

  1. Gluten Free labels! I stick these on all our lunch box containers, these serve as a great reminder for any teacher or other adult approaching my child and hopefully reminds them to not touch my carefully prepared allergy safe meal. These are from Ladybug Labels and they ship internationally. The labels are dishwasher safe and stay on for a long time…

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The Worst Part About Parenting a Child With Food Allergies…

Do you honestly want to know one of the FIRST things I did when I left all 3 of my children with my hubs and went to visit my family in Arizona???? I BOUGHT, ATE, AND ENJOYED PEANUTS!!!! And I felt…

Click here to read more:  Source: The Worst Part About Parenting a Child With Food Allergies…

I’m just a little drama…that’s all.

I was dying today talking about my life with friends that I only have the immense love & privilege of seeing one time a year when I fly from Poland to the States to see and be with my parents and family.


Like…I was on such a roll—sometimes I don’t know how I pull myself off of the floor and actually walk around in this life-like motion at all.  I should be more like Walking Dead Momma—and my kids should be GRATEFUL for that momma.

Anyhow—it totally dawned on me today that I am just a bit of drama.

You see, I thought my daughter was all of the drama.

I thought she got it from her daddy.

He is the Drama King.  I made him a crown.

But today when I was recounting all of my guilt trips and psycho parenting moments with my children and my HOW DARE MY HUSBAND SAY THAT stories, my peeps…my tribe…those that will ALWAYS tell me the truth told me that I was the drama.


I literally had no clue.  HERE I WAS—blaming ALL of the drama on pretty much EVERYONE else in my family.

It’s kind of like those that have problems with everyone they meet—turns out it is THEM!  Yep—the ones with all of the problems.

Apparently, out of the mouth of true friends, I am that THEM.

But, please, please, please, please…let’s totally keep this a secret from my husband.  I still need him to think that it is ALWAYS ALL HIS FAULT!

I need this.

It is what is best for the family, right?!

(smile smile wink wink)

Do you want to wax your mustache?????

Are you freaking KIDDING me?!

First I turn FORTY—as if that is NOT bad enough—and then I go to get my eyebrows waxed when the lady doesn’t seem to think that IT (turning 40) is FITTING enough–but now she must POINT OUT and ASK…


My laser eyes and deadly stare did NOTHING to hinder her from asking again, “AND YOUR MUSTACHE????”

I gasped as if I still have my 18-year-old glow and youth and not a STRAY whisker ANYWHERE on my face and answered her, “MY MUSTACHE????!!!!  I don’t have a mustache!!!!!”  And huffed loudly as I threw my awesome body (okay, lowered myself gently due to my aching back) onto the waxing lounge and pointed out that “I DO NOT, under any circumstances, WANT CRAZY TRENDY EYEBROWS!  JUST SIMPLE WAXING…please.”

Before I got off the chair, she, DAFT AS A…????  Well, who knows what—something daft… ASKED AGAIN, “Are you sure you don’t want the mustache waxed???”

Yes, LADY!  Very sure…


Or, I mean, do I have a mustache????

Go to mirror…

Peer closely…

Squint, really, since my eyes are not the best.

Still can’t see.  Turn glasses crooked on my nose so that I can see (all bi-focal style)…and re-peer.

Surely that is not a mustache, it’s simply glitter, right?!?!?!  A light glistening above my upper lip????


And, so with indignance, I walk PROUDLY out of that salon…

Mustache and all.