Need advice? Need someone to kick you in the pants and tell you what to do? Contact me and ask away! Someone from the fruit bowl has an answer.
Men, I’m speaking to you.
Not all of you. I know those of you who need to hear this message most will never hear it from me. Because I’m a woman. Which is why I’m talking to the rest of you – those who have standing to lodge a complaint with other men. This is a tell-your-friends moment. Ready?
Today’s been messy. My husband and son are plagued with some kind of stomach virus that has left its mark around our home. (blech) Mostly, they spent their day in their beds, sleeping, their bodies fighting off the invading army of digestive chaos.
Finally, as he felt a little better, my husband and I were sitting around the living room joking about the Jackson Pollock in our bathroom (it’s not a piece of art, I promise). That gross exchange led to a more serious recognition about the inevitability of one of us needing to take care of the other as we age. Because life gets messy with viruses and old age. And although we’re not old yet, life is fragile. An accident, a stroke, a serious illness, a sudden diagnosis – anything could leave one of us helpless, dependent on the other. The caregiver cleaning up the other’s Pollocks.
It’s conversations like these that defeat my disciplined ignoring of the vicious monster looming in our possible future and thrust him into clear view. The monster that might exist, but I don’t know if he exists. The one I try not to think about: Huntington’s disease. Continue reading
Some moms are naturally empathetic, inherently tuned into their child’s emotional and physical needs. They marvel and cry tears of joy over the littlest things. They feel depths of sorrow for every hurt feeling or skinned knee.
I’m not one of those moms.
So, Pineapple, how’s life in Texas? It’s been one year since you left California for the Lone Star Republic. How’s everything going?
Thanks for asking! Let me illustrate my new Texas life with this story from tonight. I did laundry. In the bathtub.
Kids have amazingly simple perspectives. Everything is possible. The world is infinitely UN-limited.
In the last few days, I’ve had some conversations with my 8 year old that make me want to sign up for the first bus to…wherever she’s from. Continue reading
My daughter is a rare one. Her signature trait is enthusiasm – loud, confident, joyful enthusiasm. Her joie de vivre is legendary and she’s only 7.
As you might expect from a kid with those traits, her favorite activities include coloring and drawing. Pretty much, any paper within a quarter mile of her is in danger of being forced into artistic servitude, yielding itself to her aggressive, color-saturated, creative whims. And every tour de force is presented with a beaming face, full of pride, signed on the back, “To: Mom! Love: Maggie!” Continue reading
If you know me at all, you know that I love Christmas and happy movies and there’s no place happier or Christmas-ier than the Hallmark channel this time of year. I will watch every.single.movie this channel produces – and I’ll happily watch them over and over again. I’ll admit it. I want to live in a Hallmark movie. Why? Because the Hallmark universe is a fanstastical place of fantastic fantasy and I dig it.
Here are the 10 pillars of the Hallmark universe, in no particular order: Continue reading
I love Netflix. (You guys probably know that.) It’s like a treasure chest of cool shows I never would have had the opportunity to watch if I were just watching TV.
And I’ll confess, I’m a binge-watcher. It’s one of my favorite things to do. I don’t take it slow. I watch every chance I get. Last Saturday I did almost nothing else but watch Warehouse 13. For reals. Kids were on.their.own. (Okay, maybe I have a problem…)
On those rare occasions when I find a show I really love and it’s still in production, that’s even better. I can catch up and then start watching it as it airs. But if that show is suddenly cancelled, I’m at a loss.
You see, binge-watching is great until you hit a cancellation wall and all of the momentum you’ve built up as the show progressed is suddenly going nowhere. No answers, no tearful series farewell, no resolutions, just…BOOM!…and nothing. (Yeah, I’m talking to you, producers of The Glades. I hate you guys!)
My latest binge-watch is Continuum. It’s a total butt-kicker of a sci-fi action show from the great TV land of Canada. (Seriously Canadians, you guys make some of my favorite shows ever – thank you!) Sure, I love sci-fi as a genre – I’ll admit that – so Netflix and I knew I was probably going to like Continuum, but this show is extra fun! Continue reading
Two weeks. That’s how long it took to get my first negative comments. Well, maybe they’ve been there all along, but that’s how long it took for those comments to make their way back to me.
Two weeks ago, I was hired as the Worship Minister at a new church. But since I was previously at a small church where I’d been for fifteen years and knew everyone really well, this is an adjustment. And not just for me, but for my wardrobe, too.
I’ll level with you. I have very few “nice” clothes. I pretty much live in some permutation of jeans and a T-shirt. Even my “church clothes” are pretty casual. Sure, as a responsible citizen of this church community, I’m trying to build a nicer wardrobe but it takes time and money – especially for a plus-sized girl who can’t just wear anything she finds in any random store. So, I suspected that at some point in time my clothes would become an issue here. I just didn’t expect this. Continue reading