A couple of weeks ago my dad invited us to come to a house he was clearing out after an estate sale. When we arrived, he opened the door to a large house, still relatively full of antique furniture and artwork. He told us to take anything we wanted...
When I picked her up the other day from a play date at her friend Chase’s, I noticed her back was stained green when she turned to gather her things. My daughter, Paige, is always surprising, but I wasn’t expecting her to say that it was guacamole...
“But, we don’t need another dog.” I knew that’s what he’d say. My husband, Justin, wasn’t raised around animals the way that I was. They don’t feel vital to survival to him the way they do to me. When our then 15 year old daughter, Alena, showed me...
I have a confession to make. I *may have* just used my five day leftover butternut squash soup as personal taco leverage by asking my husband, Justin, to pick up Mexican food on his way home from work for us all (since I don’t want to cook) and then...
If my daughter Paige’s genetic ties to me were ever in question, one would need to look no further than the fancy candy store in the next town, and keep an eye on what she gets when given the opportunity to choose something; The rest of any given...
Sometimes I think my mom dreamed of having a daughter for the express purpose of having someone to say the phrase “sounds like early menopause” to. For at least 10 years, she has been suggesting it after every random symptom I relay. There is no...
At least once a day, my 10 year old, Paige, requests the definition of a thing; Some word she saw or heard and doesn’t quite know what to do with. It never dawns on me to look up a proper definition of the thing she is asking about. I take on coming...
Wasn’t it just yesterday I was saying to a friend how happy I was that I hadn’t experienced my typical post-Christmas downward spiral where the world suddenly looks all gray, and sad, and everything feels wrong? I had patted myself on the back for...
It really is kind of funny how you can make such a drastic shift within a 24 hour period, and go from being over the top with your Motherhood Christmas Home OCD to suddenly sitting in a pile of paper, scraps, candy wrappers, and used plates, and you...
This is the first Christmas where no one believes in Santa anymore in my house. It’s sad when the magic goes. There’s a hole left in its place. My 10 year old confided this year, “I know it’s you. You don’t have to pretend anymore that it’s not.” I...