The unfortunate chaos of busy-ness

The Russian spy ship Victor Leonov is not far off the coast of Florida right now, which means if I hop on a cruise this evening we could meet up by lunchtime tomorrow. I mean, not that I’d want to. I’m not a spy or anything OR AM I but apparently the Russians are our friends now, and with all their eavesdropping equipment I feel like somebody on board could help me get to the bottom of why Common Core math evenRead more

The Tyrant picks her battles, and we both learn about karma.

The Tyrant won’t clean her room. It’s infuriating, and baffling. When I’m afraid it’s infested with something, I clean it for her, and organize everything properly, and explain to her how straightening her room for 10 minutes a day is all she needs to do. “Okay, Mom!” she’ll say happily, because she likes when her room is clean. And then, I swear, like two hours later, she’s lounging around in a crack den. Last week, under the detritus covering herRead 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

The boy I first loved, and his unsuccessful effort to woo me.

I’m thinking today of my first kiss. Actually, it was an almost-kiss. In my neighborhood, kids flooded the streets like squirrels. It was the legendary good old days, when we played outside up and down the block until our mothers started yelling for us to come home. At age 10, I was the oldest of four girls – my sisters were 8, 7, and 3. My poor mom. My best friend Claire lived a few blocks away, and I sawRead more

Not what I ordered! WARNING: FERTILITY RANT AHEAD

I came across a New York Times story this morning that disturbed me. About a decade ago, a Canadian woman named Angela Collins and her same-sex partner decided to start a family. So they purchased some sperm from Xytex, a Georgia sperm bank, and had a beautiful healthy child. A few years ago, Collins joined a “donor sibling” registry group and, after some digging, discovered her kid’s bio dad suffers from schizophrenia and once served time in jail. She met other parents whose childrenRead more

The State of the Tyrant, year 9.

The Tyrant is nine big years old, and has decided to play basketball for the NBA because “I just keep getting better and better, Mom.” She actually is very good. Her rebounding style could conservatively be labeled as aggressive, or more accurately as hack-like. She continues to be a magical sort of child who gives feathery kisses and is prone to saying things like, “Oh, Mom, you look so beautiful!” when I’m wearing clean workout clothes. She herself dresses strangely, oftenRead more

FUCK IT and the terrible death of a girl I knew

Since we’ve last been in contact, I turned 52 years old. Hot Firefighter Husband and the children gifted me with the Miracle Worker Anti-Aging Repair Kit, because why not? “Go put it on right now!” exclaimed the Pterodactyl excitedly. So I had to be all, IT DOESN’T WORK LIKE THAT! and WOW, WHAT A GREAT PRESENT! and ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME? WHO THOUGHT THIS WAS A GOOD IDEA? I really don’t need anything spectacular for my birthday. I’d be happy toRead more

Homework. Let me tell you where to put it.

The homework fairy visited again last night. His handwriting is as messy as the Pterodactyl’s, which is how we get away with it. Or maybe we don’t get away with it. I don’t care either way. I thought I didn’t like homework as a kid, but that’s nothing compared to how much I hate it as an adult. If you are a teacher, please accept my apologies for all the different ways I might offend you here. But honest to Socrates, if youRead more