Recently, a friend of mine has been posting videos of a stray cat that has been coming regularly into her yard. A little history about me: I love animals. I grown to tolerate cats. Something about them has always made my hair stand on end. Maybe it’s the way they quietly creep around a house
Being a parent means the window seat will never be yours again.
Damn me! I’ve done it again. Waited until the last minute, and now I’m ready to hurl myself through a window. Maybe it isn’t so bad. Let’s see… what have I packed already? Oh yeah, absolutely nothing. Fellow blogger and traveler Willia over at Cebuana Adventures posted about her travel bag recently, and she gave me the
This afternoon my daughter’s 3rd grade teacher called me personally to tell me how proud she was of my daughter’s progress this year, and the progress that they made as a class. As a mom and teacher, I appreciate this. When I informed her that she was with her father this week, and that I
I want to scream. I’m standing in the kitchen next to my mom who’s fixing me a plate. She’s taking forever, as usual
There’s a part of me that likes to see a high number in my drafts folder. There’s something soothing about not having to start from scratch. Knowing that something is needing you in order to feel whole, quite frankly, feels good. You therapists out there can analyze me if you like.
For many, many years I felt guilty about something. It was a secret that I shared with only my closest compadres. The dark secret was this: I didn’t feel comfortable in the role of motherhood. The idea of being a mom scared the woman out of me. This is natural, you may be saying. How
Parents, let me ask you a question. If your kids had to come up with a nickname to describe a negative personality trait of yours that, to your chagrin, you haven’t been able to shield them from, what would that name be? Bossy Pants? Angry Man? Toilet Hogger? Screaming Banshee? Mr. Hypocrisy? Endless Talker?