Proudly serving unpolished working motherhood, with bipolar depression & hilarity on the side
My husband thinks we are animal whisperers. Considering that we have been forced to trap-and-remove small wild beasts in our own home – the same small wild beasts that we brought into our own home under delusions of domesticity – he is clearly wrong. It all started so innocently. Oh, and I started it. We […]
It starts small, masquerading as tiredness or temporary irritation. Maybe you hit the snooze button too many times. Maybe you trail out of conversations, shrinking into yourself and losing eye contact. I do all that stuff and then pull up the best of me, rising from the ground like a Macy’s Thanksgiving day balloon, to […]
My daughter and I made an advent wreath, decked out with branches and pine cones. Our wreath looks pretty and peaceful and apparently delicious, because our cat is now eating it and throwing up pine needles all over the house. Which means our hand-crafted best is now increasingly found in half-masticated clumps of kitty kibble. […]
When my brother was little and not jazzed about eating dinner, he’d say, “I didn’t order this.” My mother, being an overaccommodater, would sweep in and replace the offending item. You have probably noticed that life by and large does not work like this. If the role of my mother were being played by life, […]