by Beth Woolsey -

Bread and Body Fluids: I’d Come Up With a Less Gross Title, But I Have One Kid Crying, One Harfing, and One Bleeding… I’m Sure You Understand

Took my kid to the orthodontist this morning.

He had to have brace wires removed so I could take him to the dentist to get four teeth pulled.

Spilled my coffee.

All 20 ounces. All over the floor of the orthodontist’s office. I put it on the floor, then immediately kicked it over. I hadn’t had coffee yet, so I couldn’t clearly think through coffee placement. It’s a Catch 22, I tell you, this whole Had to Perform Coffee Tasks Before Having Coffee situation. It’s not right. We live in a broken world, friends. ...  read more

by Beth Woolsey -

Milk and How to Use it… Yogurt, Cheese, and Labels: Oh, My!

I have a few “rules” this week as I try to eat no commercially preserved, packaged, or processed foods, the foremost of which is DO NOT BECOME A HANGRY JERK, BETH.

Greg and I learned through the joy of travel early in our relationship that there is no jackass jackassier than a hangry, exhausted jackass, and that, unless we wanted to go ahead and file for immediate divorce and save ourselves a world of hassle, we ought to travel with snacks. Snacks = Marital Harmony. Snacks = Marital Bliss. Snacks = the difference between being kind, flexible and accommodating of each other’s tiny flaws and foibles and I AM GOING TO RIP YOUR EFFING FACE OFF. We were precious, I tell you. Darling. ...  read more

by Beth Woolsey -

It Looks Like Granola, But It’s Really Self-Care

The first step was to stop saying, “Stupid, stupid, STUPID, Beth. How could you be so STUPID?” to myself in the car on the way home from work. It didn’t matter, really, what I’d done during the day; I’d slide onto the cloth seats of my Pontiac in the late afternoon and berate myself, like clockwork, sure I’d done something unforgivably foolish or said something truly humiliating.  ...  read more

by Beth Woolsey -

Maybe It’s a Poem: Thoughts on All of Life

Alrighty, folks. I wrote to you a bit ago about my new welcome mat which reads,

Come on in,
We’re not ready

And I told you about the joy and angst it brings me. 

Joy because YES, THE DOOR IS OPEN even though WE’RE NEVER READY. Joy because COME IN, ANYWAY, and “ready” is overrated. Joy because we choose Welcoming the Wanderers over Pristine Pretend. And joy because there’s something intimate and vulnerable and real about allowing others to bear witness to the mess and the madness.  ...  read more

by Beth Woolsey -

5 Things People With Tidy Homes (read: not me) Don’t Do

So, for months now — MONTHS — Facebook keeps showing me the same sponsored post in my news feed. It’s by Myquillin Smith of The Nesting Place, a stunning home and garden blogger, and it’s titled 5 Things People With Tidy Homes Don’t Do. 

Now, I want to be CRYSTAL CLEAR that I have no problem with my fellow humans who keep tidy homes. I LOVE PEOPLE WHO KEEP TIDY HOMES for many reasons, the main one of which is I get to live vicariously through them. Thank goodness, because God knows I don’t keep a tidy home myself. I mean, it’s gotten better as my kids have grown older — less “filth and squalor” these days and more just “mayhem, muck, and madness,” you know? — but tidy is definitely not a word applicable to our situation. ...  read more

by Beth Woolsey -

5 Things I Learned on the Portland Naked Bike Ride (Warning: Butts Ahead)

Maybe it’s the Celt in me, or the Gael — a Druidic ancestor beckoning me back to the spirit of my homeland — a skyclad priestess spinning with her arms aloft to welcome the Wild at dusk or dawn — or maybe it’s just that there’s freedom in being bereft of barriers, but, for whatever reason, I’ve wanted to join the Portland Naked Bike Ride for years. ...  read more

by Beth Woolsey -

The Kittens Have Landed. (Sorry, Baby Skunks.)

THE KITTENS HAVE LANDED.

I REPEAT: THE FOSTER KITTENS HAVE LANDED.

Despite a WHOLE ENTIRE DINNER last week during which my beloved partner, my mother, my father, my brother, my sister-in-law, and my eldest daughter all tried to convince me foster kittens are the Worst Idea in the Known Universe, the kittens are here. Because NEVERTHELESS, I PERSISTED, friends. ...  read more