Since we found out about the family ‘vacation’ Jackson has mentioned the cruise at least once a day. And not in an ‘I’m so excited to go on a cruise’ way either. More like an ‘OMG! We’re all going to DIE’ way. Here’s a peek into a typical day at Worry Wart Central: “Mom? Will this ship be made of the same material that the Titanic was?” “Jackson, the boat isn’t going to sink,” I reply through gritted teeth. Because…

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We throw the word brave around quite a bit in the Blogosphere. Especially in our comments. “You were so brave to share story of your parakeet’s infected feather. I know it must have taken quite a toll on you. Hugs.” “I’m in awe of your bravery. It’s ok. Everyone’s kid gets constipated. Hugs.” “Kudos to you for your bravery! I’m so sorry you suffered with bronchitis. Hugs and p rayers. Xoxo.” Who has two thumbs, needs a therapist, and is guilty of this? Hint: it’s…

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There are times in my life when books were better friends to me than people. Books are always there for me anytime of the day or night. They have never slept with my boyfriend, posted something nasty about me on FB, or called me fat behind my back. I’ve always been a reader. I was raised as an only child and was very lonely. I turned to books (and to my own imagination) for entertainment. The best summer of my…

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It’s been suggested that blogging is like high school. I’m not here to dispute that fact. But the thing is…it’s the internet. We aren’t 15 year olds with bad perms, acne, and nonexistent boobs. In my case I’m sort of not like that. I’m not 15 anyway. We aren’t stuck in some one stoplight town where the social options are Bleacher Creature or Mean Girl. This is THE INTERNET. Nobody can see you. Nobody knows how much money your Daddy…

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When my son was 14 months old I was forced to take him on a torturous family vacation in Aruba. There are so many things I could tell you about the trip. Starting with my shock and horror when I found out that my son did not have a seat on the plane. Even though the plane tickets were our Christmas/birthday gifts for the year. I had to hold a squirming, screaming toddler on my lap during the entire 7…

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I’ve been blogging for a year and a half and I’ve been lurking around the blogosphere even longer than that. I *know* there are many talented writers in the world who haven’t been discovered yet. I read your blogs every day. You’ve made me laugh. You’ve made me cry. You’ve made me think about important issues such as vajazzling. Please, people. I implore you. START WRITING SOME SCREENPLAYS, WILL YA????? I can’t be the only one who feels that 90%…

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Sometimes I look up ex-boyfriends and frenemies on Facebook. Don’t give me that look. You know you do it, too! I love it when some jerk who treated me like crap turns out to be fat, bald, and thrice divorced. Those are the days when Karma is my besty. I just knew that’s what I was going to find yesterday when I was trolling for The One Who Drove Away. We’ll call him D.C. It’s short for douche canoe. Here’s…

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When I was very young – elementary school aged – I wanted to be a writer. I had a very lonely childhood with no siblings at home and no neighbors with which to play. I did have my imagination and my babysitter’s endless stream of soap operas. I had several imaginary friends and even an imaginary dog. (My mother swears Rover was the best pet we ever had.) I would spend my days creating little dramas for them. As I…

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It’s no secret that I’m not a fan of The TO’s parents. In fact, The TO has taken to rewarding me for good behavior during forced family togetherness. You might call it a bribe but I prefer reward. Potayto-potahto, blah, blah, blah. My KitchenAid stand mixer? The result of a 4 day weekend at Cedar Point. With 30 members of The TO’s family. And I had to stay in an 600 square foot cabin with my MIL. Totally NOT worth…

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I was watching my second favorite elf, Dr. Oz, last week. The topic was metabolism boosters after the age of 40. Dr. Oz opened the show with this tidbit of inspiration “Turning 40 is a grim milestone. Your body’s first step towards death.” Now I’m 18 years old with almost 22 years of experience (think about it) so this was not what I wanted to hear on a happy, childless afternoon. I depend on Dr. Oz for advice like “Your…

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