Blog

And repercussions. Having teenaged kids is hard. Like I’d rather go to med school than deal with teenage issues hard. Lately, our resident teen has been particularly difficult. I honestly feel as though this kid should take up a career in acting because he’s had his dad and I snowed for months. You know how they say, “the mirror has two faces”? Well, his mirror has at least five and a personality to go with each one. And we just shattered all of his mirrors. After issues over

Because I’m mom that’s why! Well, after 18 months of hearing about it, my household was finally hit with the dreaded Rona! Dun dun dunnnnnnnnnnnnn! Nothing says end of summer break like a household of people all exposed to the virus that has been dictating moves for the last year and a half. I’ve looked at the last two weeks as a personal experiment. Everyone presented and dealt differently. The middle schooler had a low grade fever for about five seconds. But she popped a Ty

Hard to see clearly to what lies below… My daughter, goodness love her, is a messy child. It’s taken me eleven frustrating and messy years to realize she simply is what she is. Despite constant reminders, nagging, and bribing, she always leaves a mess in her wake. Today, she came to me upset because her new favorite hoodie had a stain on it. Never mind the countless others from art projects and trampoline spills. This one was front and center on her pocket, and upset her deep

And I did… This past year has been one long ride on the struggle bus. Yet, I’ve somehow managed not to end up medicated or in a padded room. With mask mandates handed down with swift execution, I was effectively remanded to my home. Not by choice. I have a mask handicap. What the hell is that you ask? Well to sum it up in one sentence, I have childhood sexual trauma post traumatic stress. In plain speak, having my breathing restricted freaks me the heck out to a level of pani