Right before Thanksgiving, a feast of turkey and more
Our daughter danced in socked feet, slipped to the hardwood floor
Busting open up her chin, seven stitches she bravely took
After all the kids were settled, we promptly went to Redhook
Another... Read more
We were at the dinner table the other night, when the conversation turned surreal:
“No, look, Elmo and Zoey would never get along as a married couple. Zoey is way out of Elmo’s league.”
“You think? I dunno, Elmo is pretty famous. Maybe she’d marry him for the money.”
“Do you think people without kids even know who Elmo and Zoey are? And why do we know this shit so well?”
“You think if you asked someone without kids which Wiggle they thought was the hottest, they’d think we were on... Read more
My daughter came home with her usual bouncy, free spirited, attitude. She usually rolls through the door like an electrically charged ball, so when she flopped through the door with the daily spastic energy I’m used to, I didn’t think to ask if anything could be wrong.
It’s been a few weeks of this now, assuming things are going well, listening to her stories of school, until last week the little girl that usually sits by her on the bus chose to sit six seats back from my daughter. I asked her about it later that day, “Why didn’t Liv sit with... Read more
Look, before I say anything, let me just tell you that I’m a pretty safe person. Aside from sky diving and climbing mountains here or there or biking down ski paths, I’m pretty safe, really. I always get tied in when I rock climb.
So it’s no surprise that when I walk in after grabbing my daughter from the bus and the living room is suddenly filled with smoke when for the last four hours it was not, I freaked my shit out and called 911.
And hey! Firemen!
They took my info: I was home all day (working). I tried to start a fire at 9AM but I suck at it... Read more
Wow, y’all. Was that a week or what?
The week started out as usual. Monday morning came with the... Read more
Nobody wants to hear you wax morose about the things in your life you’d change. It’s not a very good blog post. It’s a much better bartender story. Bartenders are trained in that sort of thing: Indecision, Regret, Wondering.
The Internet as a whole, not so much.
But, oh hell, you’re getting it anyway.
I’m so busy being a “jack of all trades” that I haven’t narrowed down my one passion. I’m so.. passionate… that I haven’t figured out where to concentrate that passion on.
I’m actually,... Read more
I never had headgear. I never had braces. I never had extreme acne. No, my Jr. High experience was flanked with sports and friends and the usual self consciousness. High school was a stable place with a boyfriend and good grades and more sports.
*Me in 1986. I got medals for showing up. BOOYAH.
God, I knew this would come back to bite me. I just... Read more
I’ve had a package, two actually, sitting in my living room for SIX MONTHS that I need to mail. It contains time sensitive materials. They are full of clothes for my sister’s daughter, I think you call that my niece, and my good friend’s daughter.
It’s literally been six months and I doubt they will fit their children anymore.
I’ve had a check sitting in my purse for three weeks. It’s not that we don’t need the money, ohgoodlord trust me, it’s that I can’t seem to actually DEPOSIT... Read more
My son had a field trip the other day to a cabin in the woods. It’s a cabin from 1865, a simpler time, were the butter was only made because you made it yourself. The cabin was cold. (As you’d expect old cabins to be.) We pondered life in the old days and how different things are now.
Maybe it’s a sign of the... Read more
My young son sat on the log outside waiting for snack. The older kids poured out from the Kindergarten room and I see his eyes follow a little blonde girl. He stands up, runs to her and says, “I’m here, Piper!” The little girl, Piper, doesn’t hear him. She has another friend of ours talking to her and my young son is standing behind her. “Here, Piper, I’m here!” I hear Piper ask where he is and finally she hears him, the third time, and turns around. “Oh! There you are! I missed you!” She sits down and pats the seat next to her. My son... Read more