They say a picture is worth a thousand words.
Sometimes a picture is actually worth a lot more than that.
Thirteen years ago this month, I quit a good job to stay home with my two-year-old son, Vincent.
We had moved from California to North Carolina—not for my husband’s job as most people assume when they hear we relocated cross-country, but for mine.
My husband agreed to temporarily leave work and do the stay-at-home dad thing while I brought home the bacon as a training manager for a technology company. I was pretty good at it (at first), and with my bonuses I was on target to earn about $100,000 that year. Well, I would have earned that much… had I lasted more than 9 months there.
But I didn’t.
Because in the fall of 2001, my sweet little Vincent came home from preschool with his first school pictures and everything changed.
I just found a dried booger on my shower curtain.
It’s about two feet off the ground, on the outside of the curtain, right next to the toilet in my kids’ bathroom.
After three kids, very little surprises me, and yet—there is something intriguing about the decision making process that went into this random little DNA deposit.
Picture this, if you will… Continue reading
When we last left our heroine…
Wait. I’m sorry, I just despise that word. I can never remember if it’s heroin or heroine and then I get nervous that people will think I’m leaving my smack lying around all willy nilly.
(Quick Google check and heroine-with-an-e it is. I know—I’ll create a pneumonic device to help me remember: the e is for extra excellent feeeeemale hero. Got it. Oh wait, is it pneumonic or mnemonic? Shit. And you wonder why I don’t write more often.)
Digression ending in 3-2-1…
Heroine. With an e. That would be me. Hiya!
If you’re just joining us, Continue reading
This is the first year all three of my kids have extra-curricular activities and life seems to have gotten a bit more unmanageable all of a sudden.
Tell you what though, as much as I sometimes envy my friends with only one child, there really is something special about the life-lessons and social skills kids with siblings
have to endure get to experience.
Recently we had a very interesting situation dropped in our laps. Continue reading
Have I ever told you about my friend Robin O’Bryant?
We met online a couple of years ago through mutual friends and hit it off like peanut butter and chocolate. When we finally met in person at a blogging conference it felt like coming home, minus the piles of clutter and that wet dog smell.
Robin and I have the kind of relationship where I can text her questions like “Bucket Head says his butthole is itchy. I’m scared,” and she’ll text back sage advice like “Whatever you do, DO NOT Google Pinworms,” and then digitally hold me while I reply, “Too late. OMG. MY EYES!!” Continue reading
Hiya! I’m In The Powder Room today sharing the six REALLY BIG reasons why my ten-year-old daughter doesn’t have an Instagram account. It’s a PSA with humor and heart. My gift to you.
Listen, y’all, I lurve Instagram. It’s one of my favorite ways to connect with friends. If you are on Instagram, let’s hang! I post pictures of everything from my prized Hosta collection to the sparkling inside rim of my freshly scrubbed toilet seats. Yes, I’m THAT fascinating.
But I’ve been using this app long enough to have found some pretty skeevy things about it that all parents really should consider before allowing their children to Amaro their American Girl Dolls or Hefe their hopscotch games. Which is exactly what kids this age should be doing instead of gazing at naked men or horrifyingly violent comments.
Trust me, you don’t want to miss this one.
With care and concern, and a big vat of eye bleach,