This weekend I fell into a vortex of bad television. Do you have TV show you hate to admit to watching? Mine is embarrassing. Like, really really embarrassing. I have to preface the name of the show with a yes I know this show is terrible and anti-feminist and trashy and portrays Americans at their worst.… Continue reading the pleasure of a terrible guilty binge
the gift of gifting
This time of year is full of birthday parties. And, like the Christmas shopping season, I find my anxiety rising and the thought of picking out a present. It's not that I don't want to give something thoughtful and nice; it's I'm terrible at it. There are some consumers who excel at buying gifts. I've… Continue reading the gift of gifting
ticking stink bomb
As I type this, half my attention is on my two-year-old. L is currently on the couch, legs crossed, without pants on. Yes, friends, the time has come. We have ditched diapers. It's day 1. I did the 3-Day-Potty method with E, but he was much older (3 years, 2 months). He got the hang… Continue reading ticking stink bomb
rainy weekend days
Need I type more? It's miserable and dreary outside; my kids are driving me up the wall, my dog is afoot at all times just pleading with me for a walk, yet the wind and the rain bluster on and it's so vile out CPS will visit if my neighbors see me dragging three kids… Continue reading rainy weekend days
earning the stripes
This weekend I took three kids to a county farm 50 minutes away and rocked it. I mean, I really did. It was easy, even. All by myself I navigated and educated and culture-ated the kids. I strapped two babies onto me, and my six-year-old walked along with me and we took in the baby… Continue reading earning the stripes
magic mornings
Mornings and I don't click. I hate crawling out of bed. It takes mental effort to pry my eyes open. I wake up and anger is my first emotion. I'm married to a morning man. He is at his absolute peak of productiveness in the a.m. He bustles and hustles and practically whistles around me.… Continue reading magic mornings
for the love of junk food
I remember the first time my oldest son ate a chicken nugget. We still lived in Brooklyn and he was not quite walking yet, so around the one-year-old mark. I used to push him in a stroller down the streets of Bay Ridge and that particular afternoon I was hungry so we went to McDonald's.… Continue reading for the love of junk food
it’s 3 am
It's 3 am. I'm awake. More aptly, I'm awake because H is awake. H isn't happy, nor am I. His struggle is my struggle and as he whines and moans and kicks my inner dialogue bats around inappropriate words towards him (at 3 am even 7-month-olds are capable of being labeled 'assholes') but also that… Continue reading it’s 3 am
the traveling salesman
Ok. I feel for you. I do. Schlepping around town, door to door, on foot. Knocking on stranger's doors. My sympathy is evident. You take that kindness, that slight been of empathy, and exploit it for yourself. Your gain. When you open the door in the least bit, these marketers push through. It's rare that… Continue reading the traveling salesman
