Category: Uncategorized

Are you a worrier? I’m not now but boy howdy was I ever as a youngster. Sorry. I’ve been watching too much Andy Griffith. I cried through most of kindergarten and half of first grade. Why? I have no idea. Ask my parents. My dad still mocks me for it. Yes, that was 35 years ago. I keep the peace by telling myself that harassing me about ancient history is an excellent brain exercise to fend off dementia. Anytherapist’swetdream, I…

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When I was born I had a head full of scraggly black baby hair. My mother says it tickled her nose when she rocked me to sleep. Those baby locks fell out (as they do) and were replaced by fine, straight light brown hair. My mother kept it cut very short ala some sort of deranged 70’s elf. How I yearned for long hair. I wanted it down my back. I wanted pigtails, French braids, even a lone pony tail…

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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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