So. I wrote a children’s book. And, I swear I never say this about my own work, but this book is so incredibly amazing that every parent around the entire world will be counting the hours until they can read it to their child, over and over again, every single night, for the rest of their lives. Maybe in the… Read More The Cutthroat World of…Children’s Books?
That mortifying moment your 3-year-old busts out his first four-letter word. And you know exactly where he learned it from…you. We’ve all been there. Don’t lie. You know you have, too. We do our best to keep it clean around innocent ears, but every once in awhile (daily) things might slip out that would make even… Read More SH*T
I met my new best friend today. No, it’s not a giant can of spam. She doesn’t even eat faux meat. At least I don’t envision she does. See, we haven’t actually met…yet.
Like most moms, I spend a lot of time reading children’s books. Every night we glide through sleepy rhythmic cadences, while smirking at the hidden educational lessons masked as silly little rhymes. But every once in a while, a book comes along that makes me wish my vocal chords had been severed.
Mommy woke up on the wrong side of the bed today. You know, the bed I share with daddy, the dog and now your wiggly 2-year-old brother who refuses to rest unless his hand is lying somewhere on my sleepy head.
It’s Monday. That’s all I got.
I see you, minivan mom. You swore you’d never succumb to its elongated frame and matronly…well, everything. But lo and behold, baby #3 came along and kicked that promise right to the mother lovin’ curb. And now here you are schlepping droves of squealing children around to t-ball practice, surrounded by little landmines of goldfish cracker crumbs… Read More How to Feel Like You’re Not Driving a Minivan, When You Are in Fact Driving a Minivan
You either love her or hate her. But you have to admit that by being apologetically herself, Roseanne taught us some of life’s most valuable lessons. Here are just a few.
There’s a puddle on the bathroom floor, the plunger’s resting on the living room rug, and someone’s screaming ‘HELP ME’ from the kitchen.