All colors of bucket welcome here! Honor all super heros this holiday.… Read More Harmony at Halloween: All buckets are welcome at our door!
At first, I wrote about my pregnancy in a blog because I wanted a journal for my kids that they could access at any time down the road. Then I continued it not for just them but as a life line for myself. As a way to process my turmoil, to feel less alone, with… Read More Others like me.
Ever wish you had an extra air hole to breathe through?… Read More Pneumostome
Cathexis. Definition, the concentration of mental energy on one particular person, idea, or object (especially to an unhealthy degree). I’d never heard of this word until yesterday. It’s an accurate label for this phase of my life and for the many parents, like myself, that have kids with special needs. It takes a dedication and… Read More Acceptance is a far off destination.
It’s hard to trust that his progress won’t regress at some point because the, truth is, it might since it has before. Yet, even if it does, I now know he can do the work…… Read More Did you “eeear” me?
Most of you, since you’re reading this, understand I have a twisted sense of humor and I don’t shock easily. I’ve been told it’s biting, sarcastic, dry, droll, and once (by an exe) caustic. What I hear in my head though is “you’re funny”. I maintain this blog for my own selfish enjoyment, to document… Read More Open-minded, just not agreeing with you.
Indigenous Peoples’ Day, what do those words conjure up for you? For myself, it’s a sensitive subject of my questionable origin. It’s a strange sad question I’m asked, without fail, any time I mention being Native American. “What percentage are you?” If you were to ask anyone else how white or black they were you… Read More Passable Passiveness.
Things have been bad and, when they are, the guilt of it weighs down on me as if gravity has doubled. Bad enough that I hide in the bathroom from my kids. Bad enough they’ve memorized lines from Bob’s Burgers. Bad to the point of not turning the stove on for weeks at a time.… Read More I’m a bad mom.
We survived G.W., we suffered through his father, and Reagan before him. We’ll survive this jackass. (See the following lovely examples of our past presidential mistakes: http://m.huffpost.com/us/entry/10135836) Yet the turbulent emotions of grieving these events are still so raw. So here it goes… Any human who voted for that openly known bigoted rapist is to… Read More Keep fighting.
I’m done hating the mirror. My dumpy forty-something ass is as done with you as I am. Stare at it all you want. It doesn’t talk back but I will. I’m a mom, a writer, an educated woman who cusses, and that woman is all out of &^%#$ to care about your opinion on how… Read More My ass and I don’t care if you stare.