I mean, I put the matches down. And I’m here. So that counts. I’m not crying (as much) anymore. I’m not checking the time on my phone and calculating how far into my post-uterine life I am supposed to be. I’m just… here. Waiting. I have no answers to offer you. We have two roads […]
By the time you read this, I’ll be… I’ll be in my fucking bed. In my fucking room. In my fucking house. Laying next to my fucking husband who took off work to be with me not in this fucking house, but in the fucking hospital, getting my fucking surgeries. I’m angry. I’m so angry […]
I can no longer take Advil. Or vitamins. Or shave off my pubic hair. As of this morning, I have to stop having sex and wearing lotion. I’ve spent a lot of time looking at scribbled drawings of my vagina, bladder, urethra, and uterus on various packets of paper. I was sitting in the chair […]
“Remember to be safe, okay?” Andy leaned over and kissed me in the dark at 4:30am. He was on his way to work, I was laying in bed for another hour or so, before getting up, getting the boys to school, and then heading out on a seven hour road trip with Gigi. Remembering to […]
So, podcasts are having a moment. (Thank god.)
It’s April, my birthday month, which is also the start of a marathon mind fuck surrounding things like mortality and the afterlife and if Hunger Games time will come before or after I am gone.
Sometimes I wake up and know from the second I take my morning pee, checking my phone on the toilet until my legs go numb, that I will not be fit for the internet.
Having a live tree has been a live, in-home therapy session for my closeted holiday OCD. We had such a magical day planned to go pick out the perfect tree. We’d hop in the car and sing Christmas carols the whole way. We’d walk together down the rows and rows of trees, homemade hot chocolate […]
For a while there, we could blame our hermitism and societal lameness on the children. Gosh, we’d love to go out, but we don’t have a sitter…. we’re exhausted… Wyatt is sick… Jude has a game in the morning… Gigi swallowed our car keys. Kids are like built in get-out-of-shit cards. But the real truth of […]
I feel like there are tons of things about being a woman or an adult or even a mom, I should know. And it’s only when I come into a situation in which I should clearly be able to effectively function, that I realize, I have no idea what I’m doing. Somebody take away my […]