Technically, it’s the third week of school for us. It’s also the week I’ve deemed “When The Crazy Starts” — All of our activities start this week. At least I had a staggered reentry into the routine of the school year before I’m reminded of why I have a bottle of wine on the ready.
I’ve been talking about writing a novel since….well, we’ll just say forever. And ever. It was always, “when I write my novel,” because I had this ridiculous idea in my head that it was going to hit me similar to J.K Rowling, and bam, I’d have my novel. Partially, I was under this impression that
She had tears in her eyes as I tried to reassure her that I wasn’t saying no just to be mean, “Honey, I don’t think I could give you that hair cut. I’m pretty sure I would mess it up and you’d wind up with a haircut you don’t really want.” “But, but, it’s easy.
A friend suggested to me, in the terms of relationships, that jealousy is very much a social construct and is not a productive emotion. On a lot of levels, I absolutely agree. I’ve been doing my best to catch myself when I feel the pull of jealousy in many areas of my life; It is
There was a time, when I was that haughty, nose in the air, self-righteous asshole with her baby latched to her tit, telling you how important it was to breastfeed, and only breastfeed your precious baby. And yes, if we met at the park, I was going to tell you about it. I was converted