I turned 40, so I had my first mammogram. It was WAY better than turning 10 and having a cute boy in my class pull my chair out from under me, sending me crashing to the ground and rushing for a hall pass to scurry to the bathroom to hide in a stall to cover my tears and serendipitously — SURPRISE! — discover my first period.
It turns out some rites of passage are more fun than others. ...
I celebrated telling you that my son thinks I’m as big as a 450-pound mountain gorilla by having cowboy pizza and beer for dinner last night. I did not have any of the chocolate chip cookies, though (because I’d had 2 for breakfast and then my kids finished them off while I wasn’t looking), so I’m counting that as success and moving on. Onward and upward! And a little bit outward, thanks to the pizza and beer. ...
Welcome to our Monday guest post series on Parenting and Imperfection.
I can’t remember precisely when I started reading Heather Bowie’s blog, Team Aidan, but I know her list of what we, the parents of kids with special needs, wish you, the others, knew about our lives made me cheer and cemented my love of her writing. As a mama of a kid with special needs myself, I particularly resonated with “I’m mostly over it, and sometimes I’m not,” and “I constantly teeter on the edge of gratitude and insanity.” <— OH MY WORD, YES; ME, TOO! ...
I just learned that May is Mental Health Awareness Month which is PERFECT because I just started taking anti-depressants again. Serendipity, friends; I could not have planned this better. Now this story, which I would’ve told you anyway, has a purpose. Awareness. Boom!
This is way better than when I told you about my wrap dress unwrapping in the parking lot which served no higher purpose at all. Of course, during the wrap-dress incident, I wrote without swearing. We’re not going to be that lucky this time. But, you know, we can’t have everything. ...
We went from “I feel sick” to Vomit Lift-Off in 1.5 hours today. I consider this a victory.
I mean, it’s not a family record or anything. We’ve had middle-of-the-night and out-of-a-dead-sleep yarfing episodes that carry a zero-to-TAKE-COVER rating, so there’s no real competition left there. It’s just, I don’t know, when there’s a kid who’s sort of generally blah without any other overt symptoms and I have to make The Call — send him to school or keep him home — it sometimes takes a while before I get any real feedback. ...
Got out the grill last night and burned it. Not dinner. The grill. Well, dinner, too. No one was injured. Except the grill. And dinner. Dinner was salvageable. The grill was very injured. What with the burning and all.
My kid has a rash. Or bug bites. Or hives. Or allergies. Or poison oak. Maybe all of the above. He’s lumpy in places. Not places where there are usually lumps. I’m taking him to the doctor. ...
I recently sat with Sarah and Bubba King at one of our local wine-country restaurants and, while Greg wrangled kids, homework and bedtimes all on his own, I drank local beer, ate coppa pizza from the wood-fired oven, and asked my friends some Serious Questions.
Now, those of you who’ve been reading here a while will remember Sarah and Bubba from my Run, vegetarians, RUN post titled This Little Piggy Means More Bacon for Me. It’s a good post if you like bacon. AND it included original two-word poetry by me, as well as a confession or two about our crunchy Oregon lifestyle. You can go read it first if you want some background. We’ll wait. ...
