By Way of Encouragement to Tell Your Story

Yesterday morning, I almost ran over a Giant Pheasant on the rural highway that takes me to work. I was in the 63 mile-per-hour zone (the state continues to refuse my reasonable written requests to formally change the signs from 55mph – geez), and as I rounded a corner by the Onion Flats, there stood the bird in my lane looking prehistoric and noble and also totally immobile. ...  read more

A Double Measure of Grace

Once upon a time, there was a little girl.

Her name was Aden, and she was very beautiful and very, very naughty…


Aden means Beautiful in Hebrew and Fiery in Celtic. And I never, ever, ever believe people when they say names don’t mean anything, because, Hello, my Beautiful and Fiery girl!

Oh, Miss Aden, how I love you. ...  read more

My brother and I never didn’t bicker.

Today is my little brother’s birthday. Jeff is 35. Woohoo!

Here’s what I need for you to know about Jeff:

Jeff pooped his pants a lot when he was younger.

Like, Jeff pooped his pants ’til he was 17. Or maybe just ’til he was 6. It’s hard to say for sure; time was all wonky when I was a kid.

My mom told me not to make fun of my brother for pooping his pants. She also told me to be nice to him and to share my stuff with him and to include him in games with my friends, so she was pretty much irrational all the way around. ...  read more

The Mouse and the Mommy Cycle

I stuck my mascara wand in my left eye this morning because my left eye back-talked me and violence is always the solution.

Now, technically, my left eye didn’t say anything out loud, but that’s only because it lacks the means to do so. The way it was blinking all passive-aggressive at me just really yanked my chain, you guys.

You might think I’m overreacting, but right after I popped my left eye a good one, it popped me right back with a Super Blink. You know the one. The extra watery, blurry, deep eye crunch? The one that paints your entire eye socket and cheek with wet mascara? The one that says, “Oh, yeah, lady? You think you can poke me with your mascara wand? Well, take this,” and leaves muddy tracks down the side of your face just to make a point? ...  read more

It’s National Intention Deficit Disorder Awareness Week! (I meant to tell you sooner.)

Last week, I mentioned on Facebook that my husband believes he suffers from Intention Deficit Disorder.

Greg just told me he has Intention Deficit Disorder.

Now, if we discover that Intention Deficit Disorder runs in our family, that would explain a LOT of things, you guys. Like the filth. And most of the squalor.

(We intend to clean our house. I swear we do!) ...  read more

Why My Kid Deserves a Trophy (and You Do, Too)

Oh, dear. I know the Trophy Traditionalists will disagree with me. And I do hate being the harbinger of conflict, but I just can’t bring myself to believe that our loose trophy-giving morals are ruining America.

I want to you know I tried. I did. I went out back, I put on my sternest face, and I said, “All of this willy nilly, excessive trophy-giving is terrible. It’s sending the wrong message to our children. It’s contributing to a whole generation of lazy, entitled kids. And it’s gotta stop!” ...  read more

Mothering doesn’t get easier. It gets stronger.

You know how intensely irritating (read: soul-sucking) it is when you’re barely surviving the raising of little littles and you’ve been covered in spit-up and boogers and yogurt and poo for days, and you’re praying for just three hours of uninterrupted sleep (or a terrible car accident that will put you in the hospital for at least a week where soft-spoken nurses will bring you soup and say, “there there” and hit you with a shot or twelve of morphine every couple of hours), and so you post a cry for help (or at least for sympathy) on Facebook – “SO TIRED!” – and some mother / soon-to-be-former friend who’s apparently FORGOTTEN EVERYTHING about the early years of child-rearing says something like, “Oh. You think you’re tired now?? Just wait ’til you have teenagers. HAHAHA!”, and then, to rub it in extra hard, she adds a winky face, and you want to unfriend her but that’s not at all homicidal enough? ...  read more