Happy Birthday My Ass

So yesterday was my 31st birthday. It whizzed by me in a blur of temper tantrums and poopie diapers (is that another “feces” tag? Why yes, yes it is) and doctor visits. Let’s face it, girls – birthdays just suck from here on out. I was cool up until I was twenty-five, and then I got to the “kay-we-can-stop-the-whole-aging-thing-now” phase.

I Can’t Spell

There are certain words that I simply cannot say in Nora’s presence without sending her into a wild-eyed frenzy. “Cookie,” “ice cream,” or “candy,” for example. I can’t even utter these words in passing, even if I speak quickly or in a whisper. The little rodent has this hearing super …

Parenting Confessions

Anyone who knows me KNOWS that I have my “bad mommy” moments. I think any woman who says she doesn’t have such moments is LYING. So I’m going to get all Catholic on your asses and “confess” my mommy sins to you (purely for your entertainment. How many of your girlfriends would do that, I ask you?)

Feces On the Carpet

The downside to having off-white carpet all over the house is that, well, it’s off-white. Not only is carpet disgusting (in my humble opinion), housing God knows what kind of filth and tiny critters, but stains appear on it if you merely stare at it for too long. The upside to having off-white carpet is that feces can be seen from several yards away.