Depression update, book update, and LOVE YOU PEEPS

When I last wrote, I was wallowing in a pit of despair. I’m happy to report that my proverbial glass is now at least 1/4 full, and I no longer anticipate locusts falling from the sky any minute. Thank you, Dr. K, for that little tweak. And big fat kudos to me, for refocusing my energy on clean eating, reading great books, and getting the kids back to school with pencils. But I must thank you, dear generous readers, for the outpouringRead more

Trying to calm myself amid the chaos, and Jesus not taking the wheel

I’ve lost my inner peace. It’s hiding, like maybe in my kidney or something. “You always see the glass as half empty,” says Hot Firefighter Husband. I thought about this a couple of weeks ago while I floated down the lazy river at Discovery Cove in Orlando. Discovery Cove is a magical fake tropical island where you can snorkel with sting-rays that don’t sting and swim with dolphins that act happy. It’s surrounded by a lazy river which meanders through organized tropicalRead more

#BlackLivesMatter to me. Here’s why.

This is hard. I’ve told you before that growing up in the 1970s, I attended an all-girls private Catholic school in uptown New Orleans. There were 52 girls in our class; three of them were black. No one was outwardly mean to the black girls, but neither were they our friends outside of school. The majority of these classmates were a bastion of privilege and exclusivity; I desperately wanted to be like them. I was privileged, for sure – but I didn’tRead more

READ THIS and meet Jodie Taylor

For the first time ever, I am re-reviewing a book because I think it’s that important. Today is the official release of It’s Not Like I Knew Her by my writer-sister-friend Pat Spears. FULL DISCLOSURE: This book is being published by Twisted Road Publications, which is also publishing The Place of Peace and Crickets, a memoir by Tricia Booker, also known as ME. So Pat Spears is sort of my Twisted Sister.  It’s Not Like I Knew Her introduces usRead more

Shark teeth and pimples, and the attachment disorder. We’ve got it all.

“Mom, what is this?” said the Pterodactyl, pointing to a spot below his bottom lip. “It hurts.” I looked. “It’s a pimple,” I said. “WHAT? WHY DO I HAVE A PIMPLE?” “Well, maybe because you’re growing up. Maybe you’re getting close to puberty,” I mused, although in hindsight, it probably resulted from not bathing. I offered to pop it for him, because that’s what I do, even it could lead to an infection and partial amputation of his entire chin. I’m a risk-taker.Read more

I WROTE A BOOK! I WROTE A BOOK! I WROTE A BOOK! Also….I WROTE A BOOK!

I have amazing news for the gazillions of people who’ve told me I should write a book. I HAVE WRITTEN A BOOK. And it’s going to be published. Coming in Spring 2017 to a bookstore near you: The Place of Peace and Crickets: how adoption, heartache, and love built a family Is that the best title ever or what? I could tell you what it means, but then I’d have to kill you. KIDDING. But really. I’m not going to tellRead more

Things missing from my life right now

1   Dad. Fifty-four years ago today, my parents were wed, thereby paving the way for my very existence. Within a two-week period, Dad graduated from college, married my mom, was commissioned into the U.S. Navy, and moved to Norfolk for his first ship assignment. I miss his ability to get things done. 2   My rearview mirror.  I drive my father’s 2001 GMC Yukon. He called it the Burb, because it’s like a fake Suburban. The other day HotRead more

A one-act play, envisioning a future without kids.

SCENE I The car. Hot Firefighter Husband and I are dreaming aloud about retirement in front of the younger kids. We speak of selling the house. “YOU’RE SELLING THE HOUSE?” screeches the Pterodactyl. “No!” I assure him. “Not until you’ve all moved out. Then we’ll sell it and go live in a yurt.” Husband: NO. Pterodactyl: What’s a yurt? Tyrant: We’re moving? Me: No, honey. Or maybe just a tiny house. Husband: We’ll be living on Fifth Avenue in a rented apartment.Read more

Tropical Storm Colin’s lackluster debut, and Teddy might be a homeowner soon.

Hurricane season has begun, and for the first time since I’ve lived in Florida, my dad hasn’t called to ask about our storm evacuation plan. I miss that call, even though we had the same plan every year: pack up the kids and the dogs and start driving, and leave Hot Firefighter Husband on duty to rescue the crazies who stay put. No hurricanes have formed yet, but we are currently in the middle of Tropical Storm Colin and fresh out ofRead more

Courage in unlikely places, or the boy surprises me.

Water parks aren’t my thing. Jiggling expanses of flesh, melding bodily fluids, the ever-present wafting odors of aerosol sunscreen and chlorine……I’d rather a root canal, any day. Still, every summer I make the trek to our local concrete watering hole because the kids love it, which makes them very low-maintenance for at least a couple of hours. I usually find a spot in the shade and gape at the assortment of bad ink. How do you decide whether your tattoo of Jesus’ headRead more