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Just Plane Sick
In a few hours, we’re going to meet people we don’t know who’ve generously offered to let us stay in their home in Guatemala. I’m bringing vomit-laced clothes as a thank you gift because thank you gifts are important if you ever want to be invited back. It’s good to make trips memorable, though, right?…
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My Crystal Ball Is Broken. Waiting Sucks.
My crystal ball’s been on the fritz ever since I accidentally left it in the backyard and my son peed on it. Be careful with your crystal ball is what I’m saying; apparently your fairy godmother is only allowed to issue one per mama (would’ve been nice to know that ahead of time), and if you don’t care for…
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There’s poop and a full-ride scholarship under my porch.
There’s poop under my front porch, and it’s not from an animal, folks. I know; it’s tacky to write a mommy blog and be all Braggity McBragpants about my kids, but there’s a season for everything, and it’s time to brag. There’s poop under my front porch, and more than one of my kids manufactured…
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Take THAT, Worry. We are FINE.
Emergency rules, you guys. Our family has them. I don’t know. Maybe we honed them from necessity during all the times my kids have taken a wall to the head or embedded a sewing needle in the leg or lost a fight with the monkey bars — stitches and surgeries and breaks, oh my —…