Bite Me

Writing is therapeutic. No shocking info there, right? If you're reading this, you probably already subscribe to that philosophy. Well, my last blog post was beyond words restorative. It was holy moly, in-your-face, why-didn't-I-see-that-before kind of shocking. Let me explain.  After clicking "publish" on my last post, I scanned over the finished product, as I... Continue Reading →

The Stuff You Use

I didn't want this life. Correction.  I don't want this life.  To say "didn't" is to imply that I have since changed my mind. I haven't. But to dig my heals in and refuse to move forward in spite of the circumstances is unproductive and exhausting.  Does it take more energy to kick and scream,... Continue Reading →

The Throne

I loathe vomiting. When a stomach bug attacks, I will remain in the fetal position for days with agonizing nausea rather than just getting it over with and throwing up.  I've always been this way.  Had I been one of those pregnant women with constant morning sickness, there would likely be three less children in... Continue Reading →

Baby, You’re My Firework

In the midst of a dreaded Walmart run, I had a moment. Don't worry.  This isn't a teary-eyed post.  It will be a celebration of sorts.  A celebration that it was MY kid having a meltdown and not yours. Come on.  Admit it.  When you see a child sobbing for a new toy or screaming... Continue Reading →

A Mother-Less Mother’s Day

It is their first mother-less Mother’s Day. No one verbalizes it, but each of us is thinking it. It feels wrong. Unnatural. A ten-year-old and a five-year-old should not be facing this. They look like two normal little girls, swimming with their friends on just another ordinary afternoon. Their blue eyes do not indicate sorrow.... Continue Reading →

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