Uplifting And Positive News
There was a stranger in my bed last night. Goodness, what would my husband say? Thing is, this man looked an awful lot like the guy I married a couple of years ago. Except for one thing. This man was wearing- Was wearing— Reading glasses. I can barely get out the words. Judge? Me? No way. I’ve been wearing those suckers for a few years now. My husband? He’s fought it. Maybe it’s pride. Maybe the fact he’s four years
In case you were wondering— The lady running around last weekend from one end of the metro area to the other in what can best be described as “Mom High Fashion of Shame.” Yeah, that was me. How shall I best describe my outfit? T shirt that I had slept in, so big it would still be loose on King Kong. Sweats from 1984, or thereabouts with stains and holes to match. Plastic Croc sandals. Uncombed hair half up in a clip.
I got a divorce this week. Thank goodness, no. Not my husband and I. I think he would agree that were going pretty darned strong as we cross into our third year of marriage. Still, I got a divorce. A friend of mine let me know she and her husband made their split official. Signed the papers. It must have been hard for them. To go through getting themselves a divorce lawyer (and there are loads out there, they could
Dearest Daughter, We met when you were 11. I married Daddy when you were 13. The judge made you and me legal with our adoption when you were 14. This parenting gig really does fly by in flash, so before you zoom out the door, on the occasion of your Sweet 16, here are 14 wishes from me to you: 1. I wish that you know how much joy you’ve given your two mothers. Both Mommy in heaven, and now
Might as well out myself now. What I’m about to confess is totally politically incorrect, against popular thinking, and gasp, even prejudiced. I don’t like Fall. Or Autumn. Or whatever you want to call it. I don’t like it. You, who are giddy about chillier temperatures, start of football, changing leaves. You, who get goosies just thinking about putting on that first turtleneck. You, who feel like slipping into boots instead of flip flops, is like reuniting with an old
Might as well start with the good news. The experts tell me they expect my organ transplant to be a success. Kidney? Lungs? Heart? So much more serious. The extension of my body known as— My laptop. That lifeline to the internet, that link to my email, that toolbox for my writing. My digital bodily extension ended up this week in the computer hospital for emergency surgery. The crisis started with something so simple— A tall, refreshing glass of iced
We have a sass problem in our family. Teenaged sass. Talk back, argue, and try to negotiate every boundary kind of sass. “Take away their iPads!” you suggest. “Send them to their rooms!” you insist. Thank you very much for your parenting input. Thing is… The sass, well, it’s not coming from either of the two human teenagers who make their home under our roof. It’s coming from— The cat. The 3-legged cat. Pisa is her name. As in “Leaning
I bet you have a tattoo. It’s possible you have not been hanging out in a tattoo parlor wincing as some dude named, “Clyde” etches a skull and bones onto your right bicep. And yet, I bet you have a tattoo. I say this as part of a triple confession. Let’s start with—I don’t like tattoos. Never have seen their charm. Never have looked at someone who had one and thought, “Yep, they look better with that.” It’s possible tattoos
“Did you cry?” There you have the number one thing my daughter wanted to know, as she quizzed me like I was a guilty suspect and she was a top detective on CSI. Truth is, I can’t really blame her. As I’ve shared with you Dear Reader, since becoming a parent, I’ve become a crier. If you ask my kids, they will tell you that I cry at the most ridiculous times. I cried when one filled out a form
Beware the dark scary high-wire act of motherhood that no one tells you about. Until now. That’s my job, reporting from the frontlines of a daily occurrence that was something in my pre-motherhood days I actually looked forward to. I’m talking about— The school pick up. Pre-mommy me thought this would be a daily highlight! After all, the kids have been gone all day. You missed them. They missed you. As they
