• Pretty in (lots of) pink.

      Well, my reign is over. I had a good run. I thoroughly enjoyed the power I was given for the small amount of time I had.  And I feel that I used that time to the best of my ability. These last four and half years have been my Superbowl. I had full control over something that I truly love.  Oh, I knew the day would come when it would end. If I’m being honest, I probably had more time than I thought I would. But… Now it’s over.  My work here is done. Ivy is picking out her own clothes and dressing herself. I have spent the last…

  • Yes.

    *** I want you all to know what I was thinking about as I lay in bed last night. Why has no one invented spray-on wrapping paper?  Like, you could spray it on all the presents in one easy swoop – and then it just peels off when people unwrap. As you can tell, we brought in 2018 like rockstars. So, we have another holiday card on the books and I have to admit, 2017 was tough. Every idea we came up with seemed too snarky – or we knew would greatly offend at least some.  And truthfully, our goal is to make people laugh – not rage.  (Though I did…

  • Quiet hate is the most dangerous.

    *** Brian took the girls to the city for the day and night and so I have had the house to myself for over 24 hours. I had grand plans of doing all the things that a mom thinks she’ll do with such freedom, but instead I sat in front of the television the entire day and night in a saddened daze. How is this possible? How is it possible that in the year 2017, I am having archaic conversations with my children that my grandparents had to have 60 years ago with my parents? How is that possible? In the last 24 hours, I have been consumed with the…

  • 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…