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

Mama Grizzly mode, activated

I wanted to share a picture of Chickadee's shoes on her first day of the semester, because for those of you who've stuck around for a long time, shoe pictures and the first day of school are a tradition 'round here, and this would've been a very significant picture, because... it will be the last one (at least for a good long while, anyway). Because---I hope you're sitting down, people who started reading here when my darling Chickie-pie was 6 years old and sassy beyond her years---my once tiny and chirpy firstborn is graduating from college in just a few months. Graduating. From. College....

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How to spend all your money without really trying

Whoops, I left another one of those long gaps, huh? I didn't mean to. I've just been so busy crying, you see. [Sidebar: EVERYTHING IS FINE. It's so fine, it's all-caps fine. I have to keep reminding myself of this. EVERYTHING IS FINE.] When I last left you, my awesome rainbow chairs were finished, but also so was our fridge. I was trying to just go with it, you know? Because the rainbow rockers truly are awesome. (In fact, they're so awesome, recently a gruff, busy-on-his-cell-phone UPS man embodying every stereotype you might imagine came up the walkway, saw the chairs, and when I greeted...

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Win some, lose some (paint some, replace some)

Oh my goodness, it's been a week. Or two weeks. I'm not even sure. It all starts to blend together, you know? When last we spoke, I was enthusiastically embarking upon Project Rainbow, or---more specifically---the "simple" task of repainting the rockers from our front porch with some actual rainbows, and although it was slow going I knew I would triumph and be pleased. Well. At this point in time I definitely AM pleased, and one out of two isn't bad, right? I mean, look, they came out pretty okay: (That's not the front porch, by the way. That's the back porch, where I spent one gazillion...

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More rainbows, less BS

I once worked a temp job for a small organization where I handled the copyediting for their newsletter, and I quickly learned that my boss' biggest pet peeve was the correct (or, I guess more to the point, often incorrect) usage of "less" vs. "fewer." I already had a college degree and was dismayed to discover no one had ever explained the difference to me, but explain she did, and I have never forgotten. You use "less" if it's not a thing you would quantify by number. You use "fewer" if the item in question is something you can (or, more importantly, logically would) count. At some point in...

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This post is covered in pollen

Hello! Sorry it's been so long. In my defense, I was busy dying. I mean, OKAY, not DYING dying, just dying a little bit. Dying in the "dear God, I have woken up with a massive headache every day this week" and the "do I have a cold? a sinus infection? BUBONIC PLAGUE IN MY NOSE??" sense, which is to say: it's springtime in the south! The whole world is covered in a grainy yellow coating, my eyes are itchy, etc. Everyone is making the same joke about how meth dealers are trying to turn their product back into Sudafed, and we all laugh every single time, because what else can you do? Well, I...

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You’re gonna be so sorry you asked

Hey, Mir, how's your week been? OH WELL I HOPE YOU HAVE SOME TIME TO SPEND! Pull up a chair! Grab a cup of tea, and maybe a few benzodiazepines. Whatever. Let's start last Saturday, because why not? Monkey has had a cold which has morphed into a sinus infection, and Otto has remained healthy because 1) Otto never gets sick and 2) Otto is rarely actually home, and I spent most of my spare time since the first sniffle washing my hands every ten seconds. Because I would NOT get sick, damnit! I have no time! And this time, I would escape it! So: SATURDAY Otto and I puttered around the house for...

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So those things happened

And now it's 2019. Remember all of those years when Otto and I approached the new year swearing that 20whateverwascoming was gonna be "our year" finally? We don't do that, anymore. As we approached 2019, Otto turned to me one evening and said, "2022! That's definitely going to be our year." At first I was horrified, and then I couldn't stop laughing, and Otto grinned and said, "At least I can still make you laugh." It's a good thing we don't need a special year for that. I know the last post was a big ol' wall of catch-up. On Christmas one of the gifts I unwrapped was a pen and a journal,...

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Pretend this is our belated holiday card

Dear Everyone, Merry Christmas! Happy Hanukkah! Festive Festivus! Joyous Kwanzaa! Happy Freakin' New Year (please dear baby Jesus let 2019 be less of a dumpster fire than 2018, amen)! Or enjoy grumpy Grinch-ing. Whatever. You pick. I just wanted to wish you and yours a bounty of whatever floats your boat during this ridiculous season of both joy and frustration, generosity and over-commercialism, gratitude and guilt. Or maybe that's just me. Again: whatever the season means to you, hooray! Enjoy it. This letter is both overdue and far less interesting than you probably suspect. 2018 has been...

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Hurricane, redux

I recently received a kind but somewhat plaintive "If you're never going to write again could you at least TELL us" message and then I felt guilty because guilt is my go-to emotion. (My second go-to emotion is anger, which is a real treat for those around me, lemme tell you.) I never INTEND to stop writing. I just... don't... for a while... and then inertia kicks in, and before I know it, months have passed. I do miss the days when my children were small and cherubic and uncomplicated and everything out of their mouths was entertaining and I had endless blog material simply from the...

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Things I Might Once Have Said

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