The Entertainer Blogger Award

Many thanks to the mainepaperpusher for nominating me for The Entertainer Blogger Award based on posts that I’ve written like, “The Art of Individual Expression.” (  I’m honored and I have to say that it feels good to be recognized! For those of you who haven’t checked out Linda’s blog, You’ll be entertained, you’ll laugh, you’ll love it. Trust me.

Here are the rules:

  • Thank the person who nominated you and provide a link to their blog.
  • Add these rules to your post.
  • Answer all the questions below.
  • Display the award picture in your post.
  • Nominate 12 other bloggers who are funny, inspiring and most important of all, ENTERTAINING!



Writing is my passion and I want to share my sense of humor, my perspective and my inspiration with the world. Plus, my life is chock full of good material… just sayin…



Anything by Jodi Picoult. I love how she flips the perspective on things. Jodi Picoult is the author of My Sister’s Keeper, which became a movie. Maybe you’ve seen it. She wrote a book called Nineteen Minutes. The book recounts a story of a school shooting. The mother in the story shows up at her son’s school, only to find that her son is the shooter. Through flipping the perspective, Jodi Picoult teaches non-judgement and “For the grace of God, there go I.” It’s a message that I live by and one that we all have to keep in mind when we find ourselves falling into the trap of passing judgement.



The thing that I dislike the most is being lied to! Give me your truth and I’ll deal with it… lie to me and you will shatter my trust forever. A close second is injustice. Injustice fuels my passion and my voice. I am fearless to stand up for a cause that I believe in.


I hate the mall and I can count on one hand how many times I’ve been to the mall in the past three years. I don’t feed into the “Keep up with the Jones'” mentality or feel the need to buy something because it is trendy, popular or a status symbol. I’m not connecting to material things and I don’t go to the mall so I don’t eat there. Enough said.


Writing. I don’t watch T.V. or the news and I haven’t in years. People ask me all the time, “Did you see that commercial where the…?” or such and such a movie or T.V. show, and I reply, “I don’t watch T.V.”
They look at me like I have 3 heads…but it’s true.
Mt time is too precious to spend it watching T.V.
Let’s just say that I’m thinking and working on this. I will update this post with my nominations when I’m done with my fifteen hour a day working streak.
Stay tuned!
Much love.
Erin Cooper Reed ❤

I Know That I’m A Handful…That’s Why You Have Two Hands…

As a small child, I remember waiting in anticipation as my mother tried to undo the child proof cap on my bottle of Flintstones vitamins. I can still picture myself spinning and hopping up and down on one foot as my mother struggled with the child proof lid. Eventually, she resorted to trying to pry a spoon underneath the cap.

I still remember being shocked as I watched my mother chuck the entire jar of Flintstone vitamins into the kitchen trash can and ask the universe, “Why am I even giving this kid vitamins anyway?”

Maybe it was at that moment that I realized that I was a handful, but let me tell you that it didn’t deter me from my active behavior.

My mouth and my honesty were just another thing that added to my hyper, extroverted personality. From the time that I could speak, I was speaking my mind.

When my sister, eight years my senior, had for some reason mentioned in front of me, that my future brother in law was an atheist, not only did I remember it… I announced it at a family dinner in front of both of my devout Catholic parents. My father almost choked to death on his food and my brother-in-law was as white as a ghost.

I’m sure you can image how smoothly that dinner went.

Fast forward to my current style of parenting and my relationship with John… I think you’ll be able to draw your own conclusions about the “lack of boredom” that exists in our lives.

But here’s the catch, you reap what you sow.

I am now the mother of three outgoing, opinionated boys that have propelled my entire existence into a tailspin.


Since my boys were small, strangers would approach me and say, “I see that you have your hands full.”

It was true.

It was even funny…until it became a theme that I just wanted to avoid.

I  have seriously often thought about making myself up a t-shirt that read;

“Yes, I know that I have my hands full. Please don’t bother to approach me and tell me. I’m completely aware.”

I guess that I never acted on it and had the shirt made because the sentiment was just too damned long, or maybe I was too afraid that it wouldn’t deter the large amount of the population that took pleasure in pointing this fact out to me on an almost daily basis.

Nevertheless, I am totally okay with who I am today. I also admire so many things about all of my son’s directness and sense of humor.

I’m the mother that has been called to school because my son Marc apparently is, “a chick magnet.”

I’m the mom that has been threatened with a lawsuit because my son Kevin made a video in detention that has taken on a force of it’s own and had the support of the entire school staff.

And yes, I’m the mom that had to go to Rocky’s defense when he wouldn’t remove his Penguin’s hockey hat at school because he was in dire need of a haircut and refused to take his hat off in class.

I’m a handful.

My kids are a handful.

I am well aware of where all of that stems from.

I guess that I’m just glad that God gave me two hands.

But for now, we’ll all forgo the vitamins, just to be on the safe side.






It’s Funny cuz It’s True…

When I tell my friends, family or co-workers a story about my life, they always say, “Oh my God, that’s so funny!” My standard reply is, “It’s funny cuz its true.”

When my kids were small, I saved enough money to transform the entryway of our home into a page straight out of a decorating magazine. I purchased a beautiful wooden sitting bench and an elegant mirror to hang above it. I painstakingly selected wallpaper with a small vertical gold stripe and the tiniest, most delicate floral pattern set against a background of white. I knew together, the wallpaper, the mirror and the bench would make a striking, yet warm and inviting entrance into our home.

I hired a person to put up the new wallpaper since I hadn’t a clue where to start and I wanted it to be perfect. To my surprise, the wallpaper was flawlessly installed in a day. I was elated! I enthusiastically positioned the bench, hung the decorative gold framed mirror, and lovingly added matching gold framed pictures of my children to the hallway.

It was finished. My vision, made into reality! I couldn’t have been happier.  I spent many of the days that followed standing in the entryway admiring its beauty.

Upon returning home from work one night, I was stopped dead in my tracks…low on the wall, across my beautiful new wallpaper, were some swirling red lines. I thought,”Oh my God, is that red crayon…red pen,  or worst of all, red marker?!” My heart was beating through my chest. Because the red scribble was low  on the wall, I knew it had to be my 4-year-old son Marc. My shock was now turning to anger as Marc greeted me by the door.

I forced myself to take a deep breath and smile. “Hi honey. Do you happen to know how these red marks got on the new wallpaper?” I asked.

To my surprise Marc replied, “Yes, I do. It happened last night when you and daddy were sleeping.”

“It did?” I questioned, “Tell me all about it.”

“Well, a burglar broke in,” Marc began.

“A burglar broke in?” I repeated, fully intending on seeing how far my son would go with this story. “Why didn’t you wake us?” I asked.

“I didn’t want to worry you.” Marc said.

“That was very nice of you, Marc.” I replied. “So, what did you do?”

“I just stood there. Then he grabbed me,” Marc stated.

“He grabbed you? You must have been so scared. Why didn’t you wake us?” I asked.

“I didn’t want to worry you,” Marc replied.

“Then what happened?” I inquired.

“Well, he had a knife,” Marc said.

“A knife? Oh my God!” I shrieked.

Marc continued, “And… he had a red pen.”

I said, “So he had a knife and a red pen. Wow, that must have been scary. How did you get away?”

“I jumped out the window,” Marc explained.

“You jumped out the window…Where did you go?” I asked.

Marc replied, “Well, I ran all the way to Dr. Baron’s office (he was Marc’s pediatrician at the time).”

“Why didn’t you have Dr. Baron call me?” I asked.

“He didn’t want to wake you up,” Marc replied.

“Marc, let me go get the camcorder so you can tell me again what happened and I can record all of this for the police.” I left the room to grab the camcorder.

I returned to find Marc standing in the exact same place, looking white as a ghost.

“Mommy?” Marc said sheepishly. “I wrote on the wall with a red pen.”

“I know you did, Marc.” I replied.

“Wait, how did you know?” Marc asked, as I handed him  some soap and a sponge.

“Mommies just know these things, Marc.” I said stifling a smile.

Fortunately, the red pen came off and Marc never wrote on a wall again.

We’ve all heard the expression, “You can’t make this sh*t up.” Trust me, I don’t have to make it up as there is never a lack of material in my life…It’s just funny cuz it’s true.