Tub Trauma


I hate cleaning the bathroom. And actually, it’s not really cleaning the whole bathroom that bothers me; I’d scrub toilets and wipe sinks all the live-long day. Cleaning the tub is my most hated chore of all. 

As is probably the case with most things, my loathing likely originates from trauma. Tub trauma, to be exact….

Read More »

6 Stages of Dealing With a Bad Photo

Nothing says holiday cheer like looking like you are reading through clenched teeth.

My post the other day got me thinking about all the bad photos I have endured over the years. It is a truth universally acknowledged that those of us who are ever photographed must be faced with unflattering results from time to time. There will be moments caught that offer digital (or film, if you…

Read More »

The Photo


“Can I hold you to this?” David had just read my latest post – the one about how I said that I wasn’t going to waste any more of my time feeling down on myself. (David says this is something he has been telling me for years.)  “I think I’m doing pretty well with it actually,” I…

Read More »

Not One More Minute


I’ve spent most of my life not feeling good enough. I was the girl with the gap-toothed grin who, once enough people pointed it out, spent hours in the mirror practicing different ways to speak and smile in order to hide my teeth. I told myself that once I got my teeth fixed, I would be…

Read More »

Guess What? Santa’s Butt!


A few years ago, David’s mom gave us one of her ornaments: a dancing Santa that plays Jingle Bell Rock. He usually stands on the hearth and gets turned on a couple of times over the season. He sings and wiggles and then gets turned off again, standing guard by the fireplace.  This year, though, Captain…

Read More »

The Problem With Sharing


  After spending the morning shopping (browsing! car singing! out in the world me time!) the other morning, I got to pick David up for lunch.  We don’t have lunch together often, so stepping under the golden arches was a rare treat. (Don’t tell the boys we went there without them – it was the…

Read More »

Musings of a Judo Mom

Captain Alpha throwing David at an exhibition

  We’re a judo family. So I guess that makes me a judo mom. David has loved judo since he was a kid. It’s his other love – his “thing.” You know, that thing that we all have that makes us geek out. David could not wait for the boys to be old enough to…

Read More »

My Father’s Daughter


  I am my father’s daughter. I have his eyes and his patience. I have his curly hair, and his devotion to his family. We also shared a love of chocolate-covered nuts and fresh rolls and peanut butter cookies. But my dad was handy, a real MacGyver. He loved nothing more than to spend his…

Read More »