I love stumbling across people that speak my language. The older I get, the more I realize just how weird I am (not like, I’m a Furry or anything. Not that there’s anything wrong if you are. I guess.), but just how sometimes, I am talking to people or hanging out on Facebook, and I think “I do not share your views on anything.” Especially as a...

I want to make something abundantly clear. I love my children. I ADORE my children. I would rip out my kidneys and my lungs and my heart and even never wear mascara again for my kids. I think they are cute and smart and wonderful and I love being a mom. Now, brass tacks. 41/2 a SHITTY age. I do not love it. No, sir, I do not. Declan is an easy child, overall, and I...

I have survived an insurmountable challenge. And not just survive, thrive. I THRIVED in the face of Mount Everest. Or Mother’s Day Out. You know, same. Yea, so my wittle itty bitty baby boy started MDO this week. What is it about your last kid? JEEZ, he is so my BABY. I have always celebrated as Declan got older. I loved seeing what was over the horizon, what...

I am sitting here on a Saturday afternoon taking a coffee/blog break while Simon naps. Paul is mowing, and Declan, being the social butterfly that he is, ran across the street to see if the neighbor kids that live there want to play. SCORE. Until Declan brings his friend back to the house. I have no problem with his friends being over, and we are lucky to live on a...

Today I had one of the worst play dates in the history of bored mothers. And it reminded me that really, play dates are not one bit about the kids but 100 percent about the moms. As they should be. But today’s was the  equivalent of a root canal. Combined with food poisoning. In a dumpster. So here’s what happened. The other day, I get a random phone...

A lot of people like to say that in order to be a parent, you should have to take a class or be licensed. This is usually after seeing some idiot parent giving their kid Dr. Thunder in their baby bottle or after a marathon of Toddlers & Tiaras. But seriously, even us parents who aren’t poisoning their child or dressing them like Dolly Parton need extra...