Doggy Style: The Luge

As I was shitting my pants, I was praying that our dog missed all the trees in her sledding path (she did) and remained upright (she did).

F**king First Times? What the Sh*t.

Current status? Buckled up with a bit more confidence than I had a week ago. Oh, and a giant box of tissues, just in case.

Father Christmas had One Job. One.

Nothing says, "I have my life together" like a holiday card that arrives weeks before the actual holidays, right? Well, it’s the thought that counts, I suppose.

12 Days of Christmas Chaos

This is a season filled with moments that bring glee, the warm fuzzies, and memories. Unfortunately, we often miss those moments while trying to be the perfect host, the perfect guest, the perfect shopper, the perfect gift wrapper, and, well, the list goes on. Screw that.

Hormone Harmony? Tell Me More.

Is this a TMI entry? Maybe? I’m not sure. Dad, read with caution. I have a few friends who have become amateur hormone dealers. By “hormone dealers” I mean they are becoming experts on the role of estrogen or progesterone or testosterone or chocolate paired with romantic comedies on the female body and, more importantly … Continue reading Hormone Harmony? Tell Me More. →

Wait, Did I Just Become Julia Roberts?

Did I just become Julia Roberts? Were we about to head back to all those other stores, waving our bags around while declaring, “Big Mistake. Big. Huge.”?

FORCED!!! Okay, Calm Down, People.

Forced? Well, that’s a strong word. Mixed in with this week’s news salad of sabotaged escalators and songs from a showgirl was a variety of reports on the Serenade of the Seas–a story reported as a whisper on some news channels and a scream on others. The report that finally sent me over the railing … Continue reading FORCED!!! Okay, Calm Down, People. →

Am I a Woman Now?

Am I a Woman Now? Zero Stars.

Is This The Line?

It never fails, when I hear this, the devil on my shoulder goes into overdrive with snarky responses while the angel on the other gently places her hand over my mouth.

Happy New Year! Kind of.

When we dropped our youngest off last weekend, Rich and I both felt this weird mix of doom and delight. As it was just after we’d dropped him off last year that the first shoe dropped, there was a natural gurgle of PTSD. Could everyone just be cool this year and…stay alive?