Thank you very much!

A year ago today, I launched this website www.i-am-a-mom.com on Mother’s Day. It began with some funny stories about being a Mom, making all of my friends laugh. When I joined Twitter, I began to reach a larger audience. With the story “Peanut Meets Ronald McDonald” in July 2014, my site became global when MacDonald’s tweeted the story as a most read. In the following month, I had another surge when “My Captain, My Captain” was published on the Tribute Wall for Robin Williams http://www.robin-williams.net/tributes.php. Through the laughter and the tears, this site has continued to grow to 5000 followers in 48 countries. I want to take this opportunity to thank each and every one of you for supporting www.i-am-a-mom.com. Happy Anniversary to www.i-am-a-mom.com!

Top Ten Reasons for Writing Stories About Your Childhood

  1. It has turned into a book to be released in 2015
  2. Making people laugh all over the world
  3. A fan tweet from my first crush Ronald McDonald
  4. An Opportunity to fight bullying
  5. A chance to play with my childhood friends one more time
  6. The prospect of thanking the special teachers of my youth
  7. I get to make sure I have a happy ending
  8. I will let you guess which stories are true
  9. Listening to my brother deny the stories
  10. It’s about time my mother found out what I was really doing

Peanut Meets Ronald McDonald

“Today’s the Day!” I yelled running down the stairs for breakfast with the enthusiasm of Christmas morning. “I finally get to meet Ronald McDonald,” I screamed barely able to contain my excitement. Plopping into my seat at the kitchen today, I started gulping my cereal. “Peanut, Slow down!” my mother insisted. “You’ll get a stomach ache!” I was so focused on my goal of getting to the McDonalds’ opening that I couldn’t hear her, finishing my breakfast in record time.

Running upstairs, I brushed my teeth quickly. Then, I searched my closet for my best outfit. I had to look perfect to meet Ronald McDonald. Jumping out of my pajamas, I tried on my velvet dress from Christmas. “No this just won’t do,” I said throwing this dress on the bed. Continuing to rifle through my closet, I found my Cinderella princess costume. “Yes that is it!” I blurted excitedly as I threw the dress over my head.

When my mother entered my room, she raised an eyebrow asking me, “Are you sure you want to wear that to McDonalds?” Offended that she did not like my choice, I shook my head. “Zip my back please,” I requested, turning away from her. With my dress zipped, I turned my attention to my hair. Not just any braid would do. “Please give me a French braid,” I asked my mother. Finishing the braid, she said “there you look beautiful.” To complete the ensemble, I slipped my feet into my matching Cinderella ballet slippers. “Perfect,” I said and turned for the door.

Rallying the family, I ran through the house yelling, “Let’s go, let’s goooooo!” After what seemed like an eternity, they finally boarded the big yellow station wagon. To get the party started, I began singing like The Beatles “We all ride in the yellow submarine.” I was soon joined by my sister and brothers.

After we finished singing, I started frequently asking “How many more miles?” This was one of the longest 90 minutes of our lives. When I wasn’t asking about the miles, I was bouncing in my seat from the excitement. I was barely contained and driving my brothers crazy. They kept grabbing my braid to jerk me back into my seat. “Ouch!” I cried. Looking up, my mother said sternly, “don’t pull her hair!”

As we turned the corner and the golden arches came into view, I heard angels sing “Ah, Ah, Ah.” Jumping out of my seatbelt, I screamed “We’re here, we’re here!” My father barely had time to stop before I leaped out of the car to run for Ronald McDonald. Screeching to a halt, I ran into a long line of children waiting to see Ronald. “Oh, no! Where did all of these kids come from?” I whined. Without a choice, I joined the long line of children waiting to see Ronald.

Tapping my toes while I stood in line for 45 minutes, I was speechless when I finally reached Ronald. He was so tall and handsome in person. I found myself looking down at his enormous red shoes. Searching for the words to say, I started with “Umh, Umh.”

As they were pushing me to leave, I blurted out “wait! I have to tell Ronald McDonald that he’s the greatest.” Before I could finish, the Hamburglar raced in and grabbed a burger out of Ronald’s hands. “How dare he steal from Ronald?” I hollered. When he stopped running to hold up the burger and taunt Ronald, I lunged at the Hamburglar’s legs. Wrapping myself around his legs to stop him, I yelled “Quick Ronald grab your burger. I got him!” Stunned, Ronald was not sure what to do. My mom jumped in to save the situation. Pulling on my arms, she insisted “Peanut let go of the Hamburglar.” Shaking my head, I said emphatically “No, he stole Ronald’s burger. He needs to go to jail.”

Just when the situation seemed hopeless, Officer Big Mac walked in with the handcuffs to take the Hamburglar to jail. Once the Hamburglar was safely secured and handcuffed to Officer Big Mac, I released his legs and stood up. “He’s all yours Officer. I did my best to hold him for you,” I said proudly. Officer Big Mac nodded his head to me, and reached his hand out to shake my hand. But, the moment that I will never forget is when I turned around to see Ronald McDonald reaching into his sleeve and pulling out flowers. He smiled and handed them to me with a coupon for a free Happy Meal. Best day ever!