Why do toothaches always happen on the weekend? It’s like some cruel joke to ensure maximum suffering. Or maybe the searing pain in my mouth is making me cranky. via Flickr http://flic.kr/p/nmfyCBRead More →

My youngest daughter, rocking this look. (She rocks all the looks. And everyone likes her. Between the social misfittery of her sister and me, it’s one of those eye-roll moments. "Yes, yes. Everyone loves P. Can we move on?" I’m proud of who she is, but it’s reached cliche proportions.) But, yes. Rocking the look. Clearly because her father contributed DNA. Or something. She didn’t get it from me. via Flickr http://flic.kr/p/njG7ftRead More →

  Occasionally, I allow the internet as a whole (or my 8 readers, to be specific) to be privy to actual conversations that occur in my home. Here is one, with my husband from Easter Sunday: H: “Where is my bunny?” Me: “I couldn’t find any this year.” (I left out that I didn’t begin shopping for candy until Friday afternoon but he’s aware of that, it just likely falls under the category of Things my wife says that I actually respond to but later swear to no prior knowledge.) H: “You always get me a bunny.” (He likes to dip them in peanut butter,Read More →

Last night, I grabbed this small, decorative box I keep beside my chair in the living room to search for my lip balm. (Soft, non-chapped lips are a requirement to my being comfortable.) The box had grown rather full, so I just started pulling things out. The box is to hold the little minutiae that I may need at any given time, that I need regularly enough that I don’t want to search for it when I need it. These are the office supplies I pulled out. Four highlighters, two Sharpies, a pair of scissors, a pad of blue Post-Its, three pencils, and approximately seventeenRead More →

What do the things in the title have in common? Me, getting sentimental. And overusing Kleenexes. Over at Heart-Shaped Glasses today, I’m blogging about (reflecting on, actually, since that’s our theme this month) the tradition I started for my girls when they were little nearly nineteen years ago. Of course, I got sappy. Because, hello? I cry over commercials. Does anyone remember the Kodak one, with the little girl dancing on her dad’s shoes and then they’re dancing at her wedding? I still remember the song. I think Michael Bolton sung it, but don’t hold that against me. (Tried to embed the video above, butRead More →

Today, I’m blogging over at Heart-Shaped Glasses about how my own family traditions for the holidays have changed over the years. I used to be a people pleaser and once drove over six hours, in one day, to eat dinner twice, with a ten-month-old baby. Yeah, that happened. Read what I finally figured out–it took me a while. Slow learner over here.Read More →

My daughter, who is eight, insisted for days that her dad go buy the card you see here for me. There’s nothing here for scale, but the card itself is about two feet tall. It’s a massive card. And, when I saw the envelope, I thought, “Oh, wow. Where am I going to stick that so it doesn’t hurt her feelings?” I know, I’m terrible. But, a mom. A mom who has to figure out what gets kept and where things go if they do. Still, her determination made it much more than a card. That I had to have this card meant something to her, so it meant something to me.

It wasn’t until I saw the inside that I teared up and decided (as I often do) that my kids are amazing.Read More →

I can turn anything into a learning experience… C to P: You’re annoying. P: Mom! She called me a name. Me: No, she called you an¬†adjective. It would’ve been more polite, and grammatically correct, if she had said, “You’re being annoying,” but– My Mom: Do you have to turn everything into a grammar lesson? Me: Yes. C and P: Yes. Background: C is my oldest daughter, P is my youngest. I’m one of¬†those people. I don’t mean to be. I correct copy in news articles in my head. The typist at our office refuses to let me near reports, because I rip them apart, addingRead More →

A word is banned from school? From being learned? Do they think if they don’t write it, no one can grow up to become it? Because terrorists don’t think they’re terrorists. (I am so going on a watch list somewhere.) They think they’re good people, righting wrongs, or punishing the evildoers, or some other naive and fanciful and ridiculous thing. But they don’t think they’re the bad people.Read More →

You know I posted about watching good TV to become a better writer? This isn’t like that. I had this major day-job thing going on the last few months, and I’ve been relieving stress by watching television. Specifically, soapy drama. Private Practice, the new Dallas. Which led me and my incredibly awesome daughter who enjoys the same odd things I do to old Dallas. We’re on Season 2. And it’s… wow. It’s so bad it’s good. Like how everyone used to love to hate J.R. Amiright? There are these “Oh, no, he did NOT!” moments, and “Disco [dancing] is creepy…” moments, and “They’re playing dramaticRead More →