Brer Fridge and Other Sneaky Appliance Attacks

There’s been an uprising, and I’m pretty sure my toilet is the leader of the resistance.

I’m no longer convinced, like I was yesterday, that my inability to open the mailbox, listen to the answering machine, or flush the toilet were my fault.

(Side note: Finding a way to blame others is a particularly useful skill when you’re a mom.  You thought it was useful as a child or a sibling.  But that was just practice.  Those were the minor leagues, kiddo.  Parenting is where you really put this talent to the test.  It’s like hanging out in amateur competitions, not sure exactly how you’re going to channel your natural ability, and suddenly deciding, “What the heck?” and going pro.  If you’re new to parenting, watch and learn.  You don’t even need to blame another person.  Inanimate objects work quite well.  I’m telling you:  Watch.  And.  Learn.) ...  read more

My Husband’s Wife is Pathetic

Greg’s been away for 4 days so far, and already my loving husband’s absence has shed a bright and glaring light on my patheticness.

Just you shush, Spellcheck.  Patheticness is totally a word.  And believe me, Spellcheck, when I tell you that you do not want to argue with me right now.  I’m single parenting 5 kids.  I didn’t have time to finish going potty this morning.  And I’m seriously considering sending very expensive flowers to my old friend, The Shower, because I miss her and I really want her to be part of my life again.  So you’ll understand that I’m not in the mood for your red, squiggly whining and your ongoing penchant for being right.  It’s not endearing; it’s just irritating. ...  read more

Dread and Other Benefits of Blogging

The Wife I Want To Be is at war with the Wife I Am.

It’s a raging and never-ending battle, with each side making gains and taking losses almost continuously.  “To arms!  To arms!,” I yell.  (FYI, I’m not sure which Me is yelling that.  It gets a little confusing coordinating all the skirmishes when the enemy is myself.)

Recently, my dad invited Greg to accompany him on an awesome canoe trip down Utah’s Green River. ...  read more

On The Importance of Telling Stories to Children

Before I put my children to bed at night, I tell them a story.  Sometimes, I read from a book.  But most of the time, I invent something Once Upon A Timeish in my head.  Which, if you’ve been reading for any time at all, you know is a very, very dangerous place to be.

This is the story I told my 11-year-old son and my 9-year-old daughter this evening.  An evening during which they just might have said, “Fine!” and “Whatever!” to me one too many times. ...  read more

On Remembering Home and Journeying Well

 

“If you are breathing, you should be laughing.”
Paul Westlund

My parents did several things wrong in the raising of a demure and sedate daughter.

First, they answered all of my questions.  All.  Of.  Them.  Usually more thoroughly than I hoped or planned.  Which made “do you like humping Daddy?” one of my more awkward 2nd grade moments.  Thanks, Mama.  Thanks a lot. ...  read more

On Charming My Teen…

A thousand years ago, I became a woman.  You know, in the traditional, “Mom, do not tell Dad!” sense.  In the “are you kidding me?” sense.  And in the “what is going to come from where?” sense.

I’m sure you get it.  I became a woman.  My mom did tell my dad.  It was awful.  And wonderful.  Embarrassing.  And empowering. ...  read more

Of All the Vomitters in All the World…

Of all the vomitters in all the world, my son is the very best.

Truth be told, in a puke-off, I’d put my money on Ian any day of the week. And I’d win. And then I’d have a lot of money. So if anyone knows anything about the International Hurling Circuit, please private message me right away, because I am SO getting my son in on that action. I’m going to be, like, the pageant mom of puking. There’s going to be a reality show. It’s going to be fabulous. ...  read more