Tomorrow my son, little baby “O” is due for tubes. TUBES. Internet, I have to tell you, this is possibly the best day of his life.
Or is it?
I’m scared. He has no clue. We’re set to be at the hospital at 6:30 AM. Nothing to eat or drink from midnight on.
But, he’s sick. He has another cold. He is snot and coughing and… well…. what d’ya know? He’s digging at his ears again. Just like he always does when he gets a cold. Those damn ears.
Apparently my sister was a tube baby. She was one... Read more
You know those dreams that are so real you remember them, feeling the aftermath, for hours/days after? Lately my sub-conscious has run amok with tails or the President (elect), a forced marriage and really hot men hitting on me.
Most of the time I don’t analyze my dreams because it’s almost always a combination of some spicy casserole + alcohol + being woken up at some-strange-hour by a screaming kid. Perfect recipe for delicious sub-conscious meals. But today’s dream was both wonderful and disturbing. You’ll help me analyze it,... Read more
Clara’s been dressing herself out of the laundry hamper as I’m folding clothes.
Today, she put on a hat. And her own shoes (on the right feet!). And my underpants as a necklace.
Today I woke up having not forgotten to email any clients, having not forgotten to finish anything and having slept all night long not up with a sick husband or kids or a the slideshow from hell.
Then I remembered sarcasm.
*My window today. Rain. Go figure.Read more
For a few weeks now The Little Man O screams in the car. We’re talking ear-piercing, high decibal, painfully loud, “taking others down with me” screaming.
I’m sure you can imagine.
It finally hit me last night. The car seat! Oh Mah GAWD, it’s the Car Seat.
I looked back at him pulling at the straps screaming. I went through my memories of him somehow managing to squirm out of those same straps, of him standing on the... Read more
I’m famous in my circle for loving 1998. Look, 1998? It was good. There was Dave Mathews Band. There was grunge. There was boots and hiking and being fresh out of college.
I love me some 1998.
So, today when I donned on my long sweater/robe the mister glanced up in his usually uninterested-in-my-wardrobe way, I was suprised to see him eyeing me. “Hot, aren’t I? Still got it!” I said as I slapped my ass.
“Uh, no, thkat’s not it. That sweater? Isn’t it a wee bit 1998?”
“No, it was more like... Read more
My husband regularly tells me I am the most ADD person he knows. I tell him he doesn’t know a lot of people. He tells me he can’t know too many more people because I’m all the people he can handle.
Then he kisses me and slaps my ass in fun and turns on the TV.
Lately I’ve had this urge. I often get “urges” or “a bee in my bonnet” or “any sort of cliche you can think of here that is a nice way of saying totally lost my shit.” Sometimes I crave my favorite city Bellingham. Sometimes I need to fly home to Texas.... Read more
I was 12 years old when my Mom gave me my first marriage advice. “Leslie,” she said looking down at my perm and blue eye-shadow, “When you get married, be sure you look for three things in your husband. One, be sure he wears tasseled shoes. Two, be sure he has plants in his apartment. And three, make sure he can’t dance.”
I looked up at her in complete bewilderment. So she went on to explain:
The shoes represent someone with a conscience style and sense of self. Someone who has drive and motivation. Of course, back in the mid-eighties, tasseled... Read more
Are you as giddy as I am? I’m completely unable to focus on nearly any of my other obligations. I’ve been trying to verbalize my emotions, to write with intelligence, to sit and really justify my logic and emotions and I can’t.
I think I’ve come down with an Adult case of ADHD.
(I’m currently typing this as I run in place.)
(I’m kidding. But only slightly.)
I... Read more