It’s not a regret, it’s an “experience” Articles

February goes out with a loud sucking sound

I started off the week thinking, "Huh. It's almost March. THE SUCK IS NEARLY OVER." But I guess I forgot I still had a whole week to get through and that I am me. This past week included: Taxes, a giant box of ordered-on-the-cheap Christmas candy which turned out to have a short expiration date (and Amazon gave me my money back but now I have 15 pounds to lose and a GIANT FREAKING BOX OF DELICIOUS CANDY ABOUT TO EXPIRE), the disappearance of several key lunch-packing containers (but no one knows anything about that! IT'S DARK MAGIC, they just DISAPPEARED), a snow day completely void of...

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Maybe it’s just… February

The other day a dear friend said something along the lines of "Maybe I'm not a horrible person and maybe the world isn't awful. Maybe it's just February." (I am paraphrasing a little, I think.) This struck a chord with me, because everything does seem particularly awful right now, but doesn't it EVERY February? And aren't I just as surprised, every single time, to discover that JUST POSSIBLY it's a Calendar Thing rather than a Life Sucks Thing? I am a slow learner, is my point. Calendar or not, this "short" month is feeling particularly long, not the least of which because it always seems to...

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Maybe she’s my spirit animal

This week has just about eaten me alive, but I did take a few minutes out to admit that I might be seeing an apparition in our yard. I'm sure it's a REAL dog. It's just that... I'm the only one who's ever seen her. That's not weird. Not very weird. I mean, plenty of things are weirder. Does a ghost dog explain my relative silence? Not really, but sometimes life is like that.

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It’s my fault

This morning I sent both kids off to school with something akin to GLEE. Monkey chatted all morning and was clearly, FINALLY, feeling better. I've asked Chickadee several times a day for nearly a week if she's feeling okay, and with growing impatience and annoyance she has assured me that she's FINE, MOM, GEEZ, STOP ASKING. So I told someone that we're done with the flu and only Monkey got sick. Rookie mistake. Chickadee went to the nurse around 11:00. The nurse took her temperature, which was normal, and then Otto and I ended up doing triangular triage via phone and text because I was...

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Here, have some toast in a pretty bowl

Monkey is not recovering as quickly as I'd hoped, plus he doesn't really like to be coddled when sick. Well, he likes me to fetch him things, sometimes, but for the most part he just wants to lie down in a dark room and cough in a way that makes me wonder if maybe he has tuberculosis rather than the flu. My constant, "Honey, do you need anything?" prodding is both annoying to him and doesn't fulfill my need to MAKE IT BETTER, so I have to content myself with making toast, mostly. In case you were wondering, yes, I DO spread the butter all the way to the edges. Because LOVE. I did manage to...

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These two things are unrelated

I am nothing if not inconsistent; I started writing here again and then I saw something shiny and wandered off. Or, more accurately, life happened and I realized I'd abandoned you again. I'm a jerk. I have no other defense. There's two things I've been meaning to share, though of course the more time that passes, the more I realize that they may be interesting only to me. NO MATTER! You will care about my Bowl Situation, yes you will, and also I can never resist the opportunity to point out when I have completely screwed up as a parental unit, so here we go. Matter the first: "You're fine!"...

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Because I’m smooth like that

This story begins with bacon, which SHOULD mean it's a happy story, but I am all about the plot twist, yo. Bacon! We love bacon. (Well, not the vegetarian. Though she does still comment that it smells good, which is fascinating to me.) Once upon a time while on one of the awesome summer family trips with my folks and siblings, someone purchased turkey bacon from Costco and I relentlessly mocked this choice, because BACON IS FROM PIGS and TURKEY BACON IS AN ABOMINATION and probably makes the baby Jesus cry. I am ardent about my pork products, you understand. But lo and behold, this particular...

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2015! 2015! 2015!

Happy New Year's Eve! We are planning a huge celebration here, if by "huge celebration" you mean that Otto and I have been exchanging, "I dunno... what do YOU want to eat tonight?" phrases all morning and might head out to the grocery store in a little while so that we're not ringing in the new year with only granola bars and beer (and I do). This is the first new year's in a long time where I've felt like the coming year really could be different and amazing. Of course, my definition of "amazing" has changed a lot, over the last three years or so, but that's fine. Life is hard, but it beats...

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Dishes are complicated

In general I try to avoid the whole "and now let us brag about the wonderful presents we either gave or received, be they expensive or The Most Thoughtful Item ever or preferably BOTH" thing, because 1) NO1CURR, as my children would say, and also 2) I don't want to be that asshole. I mean, I figured there are plenty of other annoying things about me without any of that going on. Nevertheless, I am now going to be That Asshole and brag, because Santa knocked it out of the park with this double-sided magnet that showed up Monkey's stocking this year: Every teenager's dream, AMIRITE? Listen,...

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