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Bringing Back Birthday Goals
Once upon a time, I would try to set birthday goals that corresponded with my new age. However, after a year or two of that, you kind of check off the big things that you want to do, and I found myself reaching for goals that weren’t as meaningful. However, I’m in a busy season… Continue reading Bringing Back Birthday Goals
In an open to the very bold mystery bruise on my upper thigh,
“I don’t even know what caused you, but I don’t like the way that you make my life look a little more adventurous than it really is.”
In an open letter to myself,
“Listen, you do not need any taffeta. You will never need any taffeta. Don’t buy the taffeta. You’re not even listening to me, are you?”
In an open letter to the old people who aggressively cut me off in the parking lot,
“I’m not going to wish you a serious health problem…just a few days of diarrhea which leaves your tissue-like butt skin raw for a few days.”
I keep saying that I love to cook….
I really do think that I love to cook. I see it as one of those chief identity markers. But, lately, I my kitchen mojo is gone! Just a dusty cloud of outdated spices. But, I’m not ready to slide, san resistance, into a little-to-no cooking world. Saturday, I went to the farmers market to… Continue reading I keep saying that I love to cook….
In an open letter to her younger son,
“If you are potty trained before you are weaned, it’s going to be pretty hard not to take it personally.”
Always Just Ask
I *this* close to believing and accepting that the internet had eaten this blog. It’s not like I’ve been a regular poster, but I was wanting to jot something or other down so as not to lose the thought that has sense evaporated. I was just going to start over elsewhere, I guess, and redirect… Continue reading Always Just Ask
Goings on
I bought so many peaches. I’m talking 50 lbs of peaches. I’ve spent a lot of time in my kitchen with peaches. Cause, you know, I guess I need another project because a job that keeps me busy an infant and a teenager just aren’t enough of a challenge? I don’t regret it though. Look… Continue reading Goings on
In an open letter to my younger son,
“That last diaper was a crime! Yet, I’m strangely impressed. In other words, I’ve taken a picture.”