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A Blogger Goes to a Writer’s Conference

    When a blogger goes to a writer’s conference, she finds herself immersed in authors of literature and MFAs; students of writing who consider words with terrific care. Most read more deeply, thoughtfully, and widely than she does. They pour over paragraphs and deconstruct sentences and consider the how and why of the comma vs. the semi-colon. When asked what authors inspire them, they list off writers like thread off a bobbin. They’ve read those authors more deeply, widely, and thoughtfully than she has. They quote with ease. She quotes with Google. Piles of books make… Read More »A Blogger Goes to a Writer’s Conference

    The Food Plate!

      Today the pediatrician reminded 6 of what The Food Plate should look like: 1/2 leafy greens and fruits, 1/4 lean protein, 1/4 whole grains. Got that? 1/2 leafy greens 1/4 lean protein 1/4 whole grains. Here… Not to be confused with   *** p.s The winner of the #LUVS1kid2kid diaper giveaway is “Venti.” Please email me your mailing address so I can get you your 6 months supply of diapers!

      Win SIX MONTHS OF DIAPERS to keep, give, or donate. Nanny not included.

        This winter LUVS diapers handed over the marketing for their 1stkid2ndkid ads to myself and a team of 5 other humor bloggers. We blogged our own 1stkid2ndkid stories, we tweeted #LUVS1stkid2kid stories , and we shared the ads with our friends and neighbors—capturing their reactions on camera: My friend Lisa from Patty Cakes let me show her customers the ads on my iPhone. One mom had her baby in his car seat bucket and I didn’t have to ask if he was a first kid or second kid because he was snuggled up to a… Read More »Win SIX MONTHS OF DIAPERS to keep, give, or donate. Nanny not included.

        Buddhist Valentines

          Be yours! You are so neutral to me. When I think of you, I notice that thought and return to my breath. Let’s acknowledge life’s misery together! Hold you. Go your separate path with me? Roses are red. Violets are blue. Adore you/abhor you, both are true. Let’s sit in discomfort and notice things. Make compassionate detachment alongside me. U+U=4EVER! We’d make a great pair of completely separate individuals.

          Put down the soup and Listen To Your Mother

            Listen. There are a lot of things you can get away with eating while you talk on the phone. Soup isn’t one of them. Also. Pay attention. This one is important: If someone is holding a baby and you plan to interact with that person, you should probably acknowledge that baby.  You do not need to address the baby directly. I repeat, you do not need to address the baby directly. Consider a glance or nod and then say something like “Well look at that. A baby.” And. If—hypothetically speaking–the crossing guard  who wears a… Read More »Put down the soup and Listen To Your Mother

            Ten reasons you’re super glad I didn’t blog in my 20s (Blog Hop!)

              1. A weekly series you’ll never have to read entitled “I can’t believe someone actually asked me to do some work at my work.” 2. Another weekly series you’ll never have to read entitled “I can’t believe I can’t make personal calls at the front desk.” 3. A third weekly series you’ll never have to read entitled “Planning your wedding from work: Let’s talk about wedding plans and then talk more about wedding plans and then really delve into my wedding plans.” 4. The great likelihood I would’ve invited you to like a page entitled… Read More »Ten reasons you’re super glad I didn’t blog in my 20s (Blog Hop!)

              Leaves

                On Thanksgiving Eve, Husband took our dining room table to task for its creaking and shifting. While I quartered fennel and peeled turnips, he presided over the upturned table: drilling, cursing, and leaning into its legs. Several trips and two hardware stores later, not only had he beaten the squeak and reinforced the girders, but he’d also found inspiration to build the leaves missing from our table for fifteen years—fifteen years of dining and relationship wear and tear, service and sacrifice, love and neglect. My parents’ marriage lasted fifteen years. One of my only memories… Read More »Leaves

                The Virgin Mary is 3 weeks post-partum and has some questions for you.

                  Joseph thinks my “Get ’em clean Nazarenes” hand-washing station is in poor taste. I think touching a savior-baby with donkey hands is in poor taste. AmIrite? See also: When I politely reminded the Myrrh-man to cough into his elbow instead of all over the son of God. Joseph practically rolled over Our Savior the other night, and Jesus hates the Moses basket. Now what? I know it’s a little early for a schedule, but how am I supposed to teach Jesus to self-soothe if everyone harmonizes his name constantly? I need help with my Jesus… Read More »The Virgin Mary is 3 weeks post-partum and has some questions for you.

                  These are a few of my favorite things (A musical interlude)

                    Sour cream on anything and whiskers not on my chin processing my feelings with another co-depen-din em-brac-ing my laptop with netflix stream-ing these are a few of my favorite things!   Cream colored cheeses and people who don’t say toodles roast chicken on the bone-y and gluten-y noodles Take out dinner packages tied up with string These are a few of my favorite things! Ninety-plus rated wines priced under nine-ninety-ni-ine when my kids go to sleep and the evening is mi-ine anytime Rufus Wainwright or Nanci Griffith sings These are a few of my favorite… Read More »These are a few of my favorite things (A musical interlude)

                    Tipping Point

                      Last week a note came home from school, informing us of the next day’s “code red” drill. I spoke with the boys about what to expect—”something similar to a fire drill, but instead of going outside, the teacher locks the door and keeps you away from the windows.” Eight wanted to know what sort of situation could prompt a code red. I responded “For safety–if someone enters the school that shouldn’t be there.” He pressed for more specifics. “Remember that day after school on the playground when the teachers called us back inside because a… Read More »Tipping Point