just another manic Sunday

SUNDAY – a day of rest, a day of worship, a day for football lovers, and an important day for women who take the beloved birth control pill.

Today was my special Sunday, when my next cycle was set to begin, as the empty spinning wheel dispenser told me. And what a surprise…as of 1:30pm, I hadn’t even called in my re-fill. Procrastination at its finest.

After finally placing the order at 2:00pm, I took a mental note of the pharmacy’s closing time, 6:00pm, and made the conscious decision to wait til after the girls’ naps to pick it up. They never sleep past 5:00pm, so we would have plenty of time to get there before closing.

Due to hyperactivity and a couple blow-outs, the standard 2:00pm naptime became more like 2:45pm and finally, by 3:00pm, ALL three of the Godwin Girls were sound asleep. On this particular Sunday, Steve was gone at a commercial casting session, and I was nursing a slight hangover from last night’s celebration for my friend’s 40th birthday, so I took the opportunity to catch some zzzz’s myself.

Periodically, throughout my nap, I groggily awoke, took a moment to figure out where I was, determined all was well with the world since I wasn’t hearing any unseemly noises on the monitor, briefly questioned the time but didn’t bother to actually check the clock, and fell back into my deep, deep glorious slumber.

Ultimately I awoke to Lexi’s cries and as I went to pick her up, my eyes glanced at the clock: 5:35pm.


I swiftly picked Lexi up, ran downstairs to call the pharmacy, all the while trying to coax my brain out of the dense fog it was wading in, and trying to figure out my most efficient plan of action. Do I try to get all three of us in the car and to the pharmacy within 25 minutes?  Do I try to get a hold of my doctor and have her call it in to a different pharmacy with BETTER hours? What should I do?

Ring Ring…Hi, I have a prescription I need picked up TODAY, but I have two kids and don’t know if I can make it there by 6:00pm. Is there any way you can leave it at the Albertson’s customer service desk?

No, we’re not allowed to do that.

Ok, well then is there anyway you can just stay a few minutes late? It would just be a few minutes.

No, they make us leave right at 6:00pm.

Ok, well then can you call it in to a different Sav-On?

No, all our locations close at 6:00pm. But we open at 9:00am tomorrow morning, why don’t you pick it up then.

Inner Monologue: Ok, Little Miss Unhelpful, Uncooperative, Unfriendly Thang…

You clearly:

#1 – Are not on the pill so you don’t know the RAGING hormonal rollercoaster that ensues after one skipped pill


#2 – Do not understand the imperative nature of preventing an oopsies.

I looked at the clock – 4:43pm.

Ok, we’ll be right there.

I dashed upstairs, woke Lily out of her deep sleep, threw sweatshirts on all three of us, told Lil to grab her flip flops as I grabbed mine, buckled the kids in their car seats and we were off.

It was 5:51pm.

After 8 minutes of praying to the Green Light Gods, driving like a cautious bat out of hell, and cursing the m-f’ers who were taking their leisurely Sunday late afternoon drives, we barreled into the parking lot, parked the car and RAN into the store. There I was, no make-up, hair disheveled, a kid under each arm, with my tank top being pulled down in the front by both girls who were hanging on for dear life. It was a SIGHT to be SEEN, I am quite sure.

As I reached the pharmacy counter it was 5:59:30. The rolldown doors were all shut except for one little area where the cash register sits. I saw the pharmacist standing, arm crossed, scowling, as he mouthed the words here she comes.

Huffing and puffing I reached the counter, Phew, I made it.

What’s your name? Said the same unfriendly gal, in the same unfriendly tone.

Godwin, Burt-Godwin. B-u-r-t. (This is where the whole hyphenating thing gets a little tricky).

As she fetched my prescription from the fancy hanging rack, I said, kinda under my breath, my stanky dragon wine hangover breath, yet still kinda loud enough for them to hear…

I’m gonna need to switch pharmacy’s ’cause this just isn’t working out for me.

No reply, from either the grumpy pharmacist or the unfriendly, unmarried, apparently celibate clerk.

I swiped the card, snatched up my prescription and proceeded to do a happy dance with Lil and Lexi in the aisle.

We made it! Woo Hoo. High-fives, fist bumps and hugs all around.

From there we walked around Albertson’s to pick up a few essentials, and my mind raced with all the things I could have said to clerk. I should have asked her if she has ever been on the pill, or if she has ever heard of BENDING the rules a little for a mom who needs to catch a much needed break.

Right then I saw her at the end of the aisle.  We caught eyes and I thought, oh, here is my chance.  We were walking towards each other.

Inner Monologue: I’m gonna say something…here I go…she’s gonna get a piece of my mind…

I stopped right in front of her and before I could say a word, she held up her right hand and dangled a set of keys.

Are these yours?

Oh…yeah, thanks.

I told you, I always misplace my damn keys!


never say never – part 2

It occurred to me the other day that my out-of-shape a$$ will be running a half marathon in a few months, up the HILLS OF SAN FRANCISCO…really???  So, this week I dusted off my running shoes, put air in the jogging stroller tires and hit the trails, running.  No, it was jogging.  No, who am I kidding, it was walking swiftly with a few slow sprints mixed in.  I need to start training for my training, that became painfully clear.

While on my first day out, about 5 minutes into the run, only traces of the bribery lollipop were left in the form of a bright blue stain on Lil’s lips which were uttering, Mom I want to go home.


By the time I repeated Just a little bit longer, Lil for the umpteenth time, my desire to work it on out had completely dissipated, so I headed home, after only 15 minutes.

At some point that evening, between the “Oh, I hate this show!” and the “Turn it up!” I exclaimed to my hubbie every 10 minutes of the Bachelor: After the Rose (It really was the most dramatic one ever), I had a flashback to running with Lily in the jogging stroller one night when she was just a baby, before baby #2 was even a consideration. We ran past a dad whose toddler was watching a DVD player in the stroller.

I remember thinking, Oh you’re kidding me! You can’t mix nature and exercise with TV. How dare he? That is the lowest of the low. I will NEVER do that.


Yesterday my run/walk was 45 minutes. Booya!

We do what we gotta do, right parents? Can I get a what what?

a letter to my daughters

I am no Maya Angelou, but tonight I feel compelled to write a letter to my girls.

To my dearest daughters, Lily & Lexi…

Here we are, entering a brand new year, and oh what wonderful, miraculous things you both have in store.



My darling, thoughtful, sassy Lily.  In the upcoming year, you will learn to use the big girl potty, begin sleeping in a big girl bed, and continue your marvelous pattern of learning and growing.  You are such a gentle, sensitive, loving little girl.  I marvel at how much you understand and how observant you are.  When you ask me for a cuddle or a bopo (kiss in Korean), I melt, and then think maybe I’m doing something right.  And when you say “namastakes” when we do an “ohm” before bed, I giggle and hope that you will someday know just how adorable you are.



Oh my sweet little edible Lexi.  Your laugh, your smile…they’re enough to send me to the moon.  You eat my face, you giggle when I tickle your chin and you smile at anyone who looks your way (unless they hold you, then you start to wail like a banshee).  The sparkle in your eyes lights up a room.  This year will be a profound year for you as you will learn to crawl, walk and talk, although I’d be fine with the cooing and the rolling around in circles for a few more years.

I look at you both…



and wonder if you will ever know how much I love you…how much you warm my soul and make my heart sing.  It is hard for me to fathom that you will not remember these special times that we are sharing.  The way we sing, laugh and cuddle.  Our family hugs.  Our dance parties.  Everyday I look at you both and think that I am the luckiest mother in the world.  I think there is no way you could get any cuter or more precious, and then the very next day you are.  Thank you for your love, your joy, your truth.


Happy New Year Girls!  I love you to the moon and back.

Love, Your Mother

get back to running

Went back to Anthropologie today looking for a book club Holiday gift exchange present. No weepy, sappy moments this time. Just a store clerk that looked at Lexi in the Bjorn and said ” Oh how cute.” Then she looked at my a** and said, “Is she your third?” I thought these were my skinny jeans…

Motherhood is…

Motherhood is browsing the racks at Anthropolgie, looking at all the adorable items you want to buy but won’t since your Christmas budget is going towards tutu’s and Thomas the Train, thinking back to the skinny, single days when you had a place to wear such outfits, but then smiling and “aahhhing” as you come upon a display of precious, furry stuffed animals for sale, whose proceeds are donated to Becky’s House, imagining your kids playing with the furry critters, and then bursting into tears when, simultaneously, The Rainbow Connection begins to play on the PA.

Mama Maryhood is then wiping away the tears, buying said furry critter, along with a little something for yourself like your favorite kind of wallet that happens to be 50% off and is displayed next to the register, and then holding up the long line of customers because you ask the sales clerk to go check who’s version of Rainbow Connection just made you bawl your eyes out.

Sarah McLachlan, of course.

Mama Maryhood to the nth degree is getting home, looking up Sarah’s version of the rainbow song on YouTube to add to this post, coming across this video and bawling yet again.

Today I am thankful for my kids, my hyperactive tear ducts I inherited from my mom, the lovers, the dreamers and me.

Trigger Happy Mama

And no, I’m not talking about Sarah Palin…  nor am I talking about the “stick ’em up bang bang” kind of trigger.  I mean me the set you off, make you mad and take you from A to Z kind of trigger.

A few months ago I attended a company meeting in which the guest speaker spoke of triggers.  He defined trigger as “stimulus that sets off an immediate and mostly unconscious reaction.”  Yes, I took notes, I’m a dork.  So we were in groups of 5 at small round tables and were given the assignment of writing down our own personal triggers.  I went to town, writing swiftly, barely able to get all my thoughts out in the allotted time.  Then, guess what, we had to share them with our table mates.  I was lucky enough to have Polyanna, Mary Poppins, Carol Brady, and Mr. Rogers seated at my table.  So Polyanna starts and only has ONE item her list… “Lying” she says.  And I think…”Liar!”   Nothing really makes her mad except people that are dishonest.   Hmmph.  Then comes Mary Poppins…she has “pessimistic people and rude people” on her list.  Of course she does.

Around the table we went and as each person shared their list of one or two items, I looked down at my list of 25 things and thought to myself, okay people, I took this exercise seriously. When it came my turn to share I embraced my trigger-happy-list and read off only 6 items, sparing the gang it’s entirety.  But then, wouldn’t you know it…I was called upon by Mr. Motivational Speaker to share my list with THE ENTIRE GROUP.  So not only did I have to share my personal list with the Sunshine Gang, but then I had to air my proverbial dirty laundry to the entire company.  It’s all a blur…I think I told a few jokes and sang “Shoop”to distract them.  Then I rattled off my list

When my toddler whines and wants something “now”

When my husband whines and says “I’ll do it tomorrow”

When people drive too slow (when I’m tailgating them)

When people drive too fast and tailgate me

When the commercials aren’t muted  (by my husband)

When people are late (namely my husband)

When my voice recognition thinks I say “Call Amy” when I said “Call Mom”  – how do those things even sound alike???

So what I walked away with from that meeting was 1) there are A LOT of things that annoy me (tune in for future blog on 1001 things that bug me) 2) I shouldn’t let things bother me as much 3) and now that I know what bothers me, that is half the battle – right!

I also came away with his business card – on the back of the card is the following quote.  I now carry it with me in my wallet…

I have come to the frightening conclusion that I am the decisive element.  It is my personal approach that creates the climate. It is my daily mood that makes the weather.

I posses tremendous power to make a life miserable or joyous.  I can be a tool of torture, or an instrument of inspiration.

I can humiliate or humor, hurt or heal.  In all situations, it is my response decides whether a crisis will be escalated or de-escalated, and a person humanized or dehumanized.

If we treat people as they are, we make them worse. If we treat people as they ought to be, we help them become what they are capable of becoming.

– Goethe –