Meena’s Mom

Once upon a time, in the years BC (before children), the idea self-identifying as “someone’s Mom” was not just foreign, but distasteful. To identify oneself as nothing but the appendage of another, to be nothing but “Meena’s mom”, represented an abdication of self. I couldn’t understand why other women would do such a thing.

Big Girls Don’t Nap

This weekend, while ζach was putting Boo down for her afternoon nap, I heard a strange sound coming from the basement. It sounded an awful lot like silence. As any mother can tell you, the only sound worse than “Bang! Ow! Waaaah!” is silence, so I went to investigate. This is what I found: About 90 […]

Road Trip

Six Word Friday: Stop & Go. Two kids nestled in the backseat, Trunk full of presents, carefully wrapped. Five hundred kilometers of road ahead, And a winter storm approaching. Naturally. Two kids sleeping in the backseat. At the same time? You jest. Then go, go, Go, Go, GO!!!!!! I have to go pee! SCREECH! (of […]