When I lived in Europe, my friend Carrie came over to visit and we spent a week in this town in Italy called Cinque Terre. It's a series of five cliff side villages connected by ancient goat paths turned into hiking trails, surrounded by water the color of a million emeralds and people laying on the beach with boobies hanging every which way but nobody cares about that, or any ...
Three Little Girls Who Can’t. Even.
I've been taking a bit of a blog hiatus, because in a moment of delusional grandeur last spring I decided that my kids and I are going to have a totally groovy 70s style summer. No bells and whistles, no frills, no fancy camps. Just some good old fashioned playing in the sprinklers, drinking water straight out of the garden hose, throwing a pack of cigarettes on the deck and ...
The Gift
This morning I had to go to the post office to mail a baby gift. The post office is my least favorite of all the awful places I take my kids, gynocologist included. It's quiet, and everyone is standing in line with nothing better to do than judge me when my kids act up. There are a million things lying around that pull their fingers in like a magnetic force field. Boxes, ...
Death at a Funeral
When the speaker announced my name as the winner of the Huffington Post essay competition, the feeling of elation may have eclipsed that which I felt at the birth of my children. Hell, it may have eclipsed the joy I feel when thinking of my own birth. Coming from a blogger, that is saying a lot. At some point my essay will appear on HP, but I wanted to share it here first as ...
The Seven Stages of Dinner
The majority of my day centers around feeding something. If I am not actively preparing food I am thinking about what I'm going to make, shopping for what I'm going to make, or cleaning up what I just made. And yet despite three meals and one healthy (relatively) snack every single day, my children are non-stop ravenous, insatiable beasts. Until dinner, that is. That's ...