We moms are the world’s best multitaskers.
I looked down at the table. It seems oddly appropriate that my stone "HAPPINESS" plaque, which used to perch cheerfully on my shelf, now lay broken in jagged pieces.
Life has been hell around here the last two days.
Ladies and gentlemen, could you please take your seats? Thank you.
I’ve called you all here today to address the scurrilous rumors swirling around my choice in music.
I sat in the van and turned off the ignition. All my insides jumped around and I fidgeted in the seat.
Parenting really is a two-person job. This week sure proved that. I was felled by either a stomach bug or food poisoning and was down for the count. I tapped out and my husband tapped in.
My daughter wanted to write a thank you note for something she got for her birthday. I thought that was awesome, as she decided to do this all on her own.
With the snip of a pair of scissors, my daughter turned from girl to teen. Last weekend, she had 13 inches of hair cut off and donated to Locks of Love.
It’s not that I don’t want happy. Believe me, it’s what I pray for.
Back in my younger days, when I went to college in North Carolina, I became part of a group of hippies and outcasts who bonded together in our love for the Grateful Dead.