This is how Christmas break is going…

This isn’t a real post. This is Christmas break. This is Christmas break, and this is how it’s going, in three small bits…

A) We had lovely Christmas. Truly magical. Really rad. Totally awesome. We baked. We wrapped. We cleaned. We unwrapped. We made majestic messes. We were kind to each other just as long as we could stand to be, and now we’re done with all this Quality Family Time. ...  read more

Christmas Came Early: Introducing Someone Very Special…

The tentative whispers and the cautious what ifs — the quiet perhapses and the hesitant maybes — can change your life. 

I know they’ve changed mine.

Again and again, the what ifs and maybes changed mine.

Like, maybe I love him. And, what if I marry him? And, perhaps I should follow my heart.

Changed my life. 

They were toes in the water and the slow first steps, those perhapses of wondering which were born out of longing and transformed into hope.  ...  read more

Living Between the Hallelujahs

I’ve been listening to Pandora’s classical Christmas station for two weeks now, which is a mistake for a couple reasons.

First, there are approximately six songs total on Pandora’s classical Christmas station and five hundred thousand different arrangements of the six. Honest to God, if I have to hear another classical arrangement of The Holly and The Ivy or its tied-for-most-mind-numbing-Christmas-song-ever, Here We Come A Wassailing, I can’t be held responsible for my actions. Although, in defense of Here We Come A Wassailing, it’s a song meant to be fueled by booze like One Hundred Bottles of Beer on the Wall or the movie, Dude, Where’s My Car, which are awesome but only after some seriously questionable amounts of imbibing, and I was listening to it stone cold sober, so… my bad. ...  read more

I used to worry they’d call Child Protective Services on me. Now I plan to offer the social worker a FREE, All-Inclusive, 7-Night Stay in my home while I wait out the results in Tahiti.

I used to worry the doctor would call Child Protective Services on me. I’d bring my toddler girl — my first kid — to the pediatrician for her well child check-ups, and I’d look at the bruises on her shins and the inevitable goose egg on her forehead, terrified the doctor would be on the phone to social services before I could explain I seriously — like, for reals, Doc! — didn’t beat her. ...  read more

The Screw Chart Incident

My husband just came to our bedroom to inform me he printed out a Screw Chart.

I asked if that’s like a Special Advent Calendar for grown-ups but Greg looked at me like I was confused and said slowly, “It’s a Screw Chart for the iPhone,” so then I had to remind him we’ve had conversations with our teenager about this kind of thing, and, specifically, about never, ever (EVER) taking those kinds of pictures or videos on one’s phone because HELLO, INTERNET — you just don’t know where that stuff will end up. GEEZ, Greg. ...  read more

On Michael Brown, Eric Garner, A Loss for Words, and Hope Anyway

I tried to write tonight, but my heart is stuck.

Kind of pffttt.

A little bleh. 

And I know why my heart is stuck; only, I don’t much like thinking about it because it makes me feel helpless and afraid and like I can make no difference at all. ReleaseNeverAfraidBut I have a sign I made this summer which sits on my desk and reads, “I release the belief that I must never be afraid,” so I’ll write anyway, even with a sticky heart full of fears both petty and powerful. ...  read more