• Holiday Frame of Mind: Why this heathen is putting up a nativity set.

    Christmas is coming, y’all. No, I’m not shunning Thanksgiving. In fact, I’m in the throws of preparing to host it. However, for the last few years, I’ve decorated for Christmas right before Thanksgiving. We enjoy being surrounded by twinkling Christmas trees and garland galore while we eat our turkey. And we’re not one dang bit sorry! I have so many bins of holiday decor at this point that I honestly think they are breeding in the basement and multiplying. For the last couple of years, I’ve stuck to the same “theme” though, if you will. I’m drawn to vintage and nostalgic items. Not just for the way they look –…

  • Irish Courage: Traveling with Anxiety

    Well, it’s nearly November, my friends. We are (hopefully, knock on wood) wrapping up a double-whammy of the flu and strep-throat with our five year old right now and it’s been seven days of non-stop fun (<– sarcasm font).  Ivy has pretty significant asthma, so whenever she gets any kind of respiratory illness/cold/flu/virus, we are on high alert.  Combine that with my every-day anxiety and this mama needs a drink. Or eleven. And all of the above is now happening about four days before Brian and I leave the country. Because the universe loves to paw at my anxiety like a kitten with a ball of yarn. A few months…

  • Fall refresh.

      *** It’s fall. My favorite. This year, I shall defy the Missouri weather by turning the air conditioning up enough to feel comfortable in sweaters. I will look out my window and pretend it’s not 80 degrees on most days. I will spray paint the leaves forcing them to turn. I will have my fall, dammit. *** And how are all of you? It’s been awhile… I had a nice summer break of not writing. I am still not sure how much or often I will write. Or what I will write about. Likely, things that interest me at the moment… with no theme or direction or scheduled pattern.…

  • Three is the angriest number.

    *** I remember once feeling superior that my lovely little human never went through the “terrible twos” and giving myself a pat on the back for (so-far) raising an even tempered, happy little girl.  “Oh, I bet that one’s a firecracker!” I’d hear countless times at the grocery store from people observing Ivy’s red hair. And I’d proudly, no, smugly respond, “No, she’s a pretty happy go lucky kid.”  And then… My child turned 3 1/2 and some sort of miniature demon has taken control of her to the point that I now look fondly back at potty training as a sort of utopia. Now, I’m not saying animated movies are, in fact, documentaries based on…