It’s all (mostly) okay.

Here’s what’s okay: Asking your pal for help trimming up the back of your head/accidental between-haircuts mullet and listening to (and believing her) when she tells you that you looked gorgeous beforehand, anyway. Having the kids fed, bathed, jammied, and reading in your bed at 5:45pm on a Tuesday (and maybe pretending it’s waaaay later in the evening than it really is) because P.J.’s on a work trip all week and come ON, what can even be done in Seattle {Read More}

Grace. (A.k.a. We’ll see!)

Things I will give myself grace about today: (a work in progress) -My kids are mostly clean, extremely well-fed, and unquestionably loved. The rest of the kid stuff I angst about in the middle of the night can hold off for a bit. (At least until tonight.) -When your body hurts, you should rest. Today, I should rest. (And if that requires yet more screen time for Jasper, well then, gracegracegracegracegrace.) -The brain is part of the body. When it’s {Read More}

Groundhog’s Day, a.k.a. social media balance

Today is Groundhog’s Day. Don’t you wish it were like the movie Groundhog’s Day, where the most important thing in the world was to change up your particular plot line, a la the film Groundhog’s Day? Don’t you wish that all you had to worry about in the world was finding time to sit down and watch Bill Murray in Groundhog’s Day? Yeah, me too. Oh, friends. Someday soon my brain will allow me to craft elaborate narratives again, instead of {Read More}

24 things which are real this week

24 things which are real this week I have the coolest 7 year-old in the history of children. (Her actual birthday choices included, among other things, an hour at the Art Institute, LEGOs, and at least three chapters of Encyclopedia Brown.) P.J. and I have a 7 year-old now. Halloween a mere two days after a birthday is heck on the system. Anti-inflammatory drugs are not nearly as much fun as narcotics. It’s possible to nap for three hours and still {Read More}

Tired voices.

Sometimes, the tired voices win.  I’m not talking about my kids’ voices, either. (FYI, they don’t have Tired Voices. They have decidedly Not Tired Voices.) No, I’m talking about the ones in my daytime brain- the same ones that whisper excitedly about aloe plants and oil changes at 3 a.m.- only during traditional waking hours, they’re the thoughts that encourage me to faceplant on a pile of questionably clean towels or on the stairs while wrestling with a toddler shoe. {Read More}