Weeks deep in big boy undies.

You had to be wondering when you’d hear a post about potty training. After all, our boy is off to college now. C’mon, people. He’s not even three yet. Plus he’s undergone immense change. Plus it’s important not to prematurely force bladder control. Plus he’s a boy. Plus he’s undergone immense change. Plus his mom…

Old habits die even harder.

With the birth of our second bundle, my parenting experience continues to evolve. After all, I now have two wardens to answer: But I just knew this opportunity at second-round parenting would redeem my prior misfit ways. I would be more seasoned. I wouldn’t shirk routine. I would make my bed weekly. I wouldn’t fix…

I’ve missed you.

Hi. Hi. Hi. Can I just say that I’ve missed you? Yes, I have. We must catch up. You’ll have to excuse my radio silence of late following the recent birth of our second bundle. I now spend my days as a milk cow, wondering if my two-year-old is in the other room playing with…

Snaps. Claps. Laughs.

I used to think my two-year-old was temperamental. Until I became full-term pregnant in the heat of the summer. Rubber-band emotions. I snap back and forth between laughing and crying. Often laugh-crying, like a creepy psychopath. I blame the hormones but fear I’ve had a permanent personality shift. Lord, help us. Like when one of…

my groundhog life.

Do you relive the same day again and again? Me too. Morning after morning, we awake and scoot to the nearest box store to retrieve paint for our latest house project. There, Andy saddles up on his mower of choice. Afternoon after afternoon, Andy and I return home, so he can stealthily hide from me. Sometimes…

Oh, the problem with pride.

Oh, the problem with pride. It never looks good on anyone. It’s often propelled by feelings of inadequacy. And it’s the fastest way to get me to do something: Tell me I can’t do something.  Because pride, propelled by inadequacy, always has something to prove. Drew recently told me I can’t be push-mowing the lawn at 35 weeks pregnant….

My self-help success story.

You know all the mushy, feel-good, self-help anecdotes that incessantly float around social media? The ones that call you to an ideal standard of effortlessly perfect parenting, wife-ing, friending, or whatever other life role fits you. The beautiful stories of flawless moms who have reared angelic beings. The personal testimonies that promise you can have it all if you just adopt…

Burn those dinners more often.

It was only last fall that I told of my chicken bones catastrophe. Whether it was the Sahara Desert rice or the whole chicken breast(s) that ultimately clogged the kitchen drain is debatable. But now that I’m over half a year older and wiser, I can humbly trumpet what I’ve learned: Brown-bottom chicken leads to lots of brown-bottom leftovers [and frowns]. Lots of brown-bottom leftovers lead…

Extremely anonymous Q. & A. for moms.

As you know by now, I’m very likely the world’s best mom. Being the trophy parent I am, although I’m wildly busy being an attentive, sensitive, and crafty mother, it’s only right that I give of myself to help you navigate your difficult parenting journey. Consequently, I’m fielding a Q. & A., where mothers anonymously submit problematic parenting scenarios to me for my sage counsel….