Hello Kitty the fish is dead. LONG LIVE HELLO KITTY. Because I did the old switcheroo yesterday while the Tyrant was at school. Listen, I know it’s important for kids to learn about death and everything. But if your kid’s beta fish suffocates to death in a soup of its own feces so toxic that Read More
Part I Part II Part III Part IV Part V Part VI Part VII Part VIII Somehow the art therapist is opening up the Pterodactyl like a flower. Or maybe like a shaken can of soda. His feelings have been stuck, gummed up in his brain, I guess, and we’ve only had basic knowledge of what’s propelling his Read More
The kids had so much fun throwing the bright blue bags of dog poop up on the roof that I didn’t even get angry. Then Hot Firefighter Husband had a long work stretch and the bags sat there for three days. Six of them. Full. Of. Poop. But as a special Mother’s Day present, Husband Read More
Ever since I was diagnosed with Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder as a result of living with the Pterodactyl, we’ve tried to limit the amount of time I have to deal with him alone. So when Hot Firefighter Husband’s work schedule gets all whack, I call in the A-team Sitter to assist in self-preservation. The A-team Sitter Read More
“I’m fat,” I told Hot Firefighter Husband. “I feel fat. And out of shape.” “You’re not fat,” he droned. “You’re in great shape.” He doesn’t say those phrases so much as he emits them like Pavlovian responses. That’s how often we’ve had the exact same discussion. “But also?” I continued. “I feel guilty for worrying Read More
I took the iPad away from the Tyrant because she had Googled “kissing.” Note: she has now seen lots of tongues up close. Yesterday, she asked to have it back, but I was still traumatized and declined her request. She used her sternest voice ever and said, “Make the right choice, Mom, so I don’t Read More
“Create a womb,” my husband said. The analogy startled me; this was more than a decade ago, and we were undergoing infertility treatment at the time. But he was right. That’s what I needed to do. I dug big holes and added a little fertilizer, then filled the holes with water and swished the Read More
My oldest daughter sits in the very last row of the bus. Each morning, after she boards, she presses her face against the back window and waves to me as the big yellow bird rumbles away. I stand there and wave back, blowing kisses and giving thumbs-up signs, for as long as I can see Read More
The Tyrant lugged her 6-year-old sleepy self into the kitchen the other day while wiping sleep from her eyes. “Mom,” she said. “Guess what. I dreamed we were at a hotel, and we were staying at a hotel, and we were all there, and then we left.” “Wow,” I said. Because I’m totes supportive like Read More
I love my son sooooo much when he’s asleep. Ditto for the minute he steps onto the school bus. The rest of the time, I think about military schools. This new journey we’re on – gluten-free eating and boatloads of supplements – have helped a great deal. Physically, the boy is taller and leaner, with Read More
Recent Comments