“Just…one?” The hostess eyes me, a long sweeping look, as if trying to figure out what’s wrong with me that I have to eat out alone. I used to answer, “Yep!” with a smile, all peppy and bright and for God’s sake don’t...
Extended metaphors make me itch. This means I could never write straight nonfiction, because the extended metaphor is the nonfictionist’s crack. Just look at early parenting books, and you’ll break out in red hot hives, too. Not since those...
It’s nearly our baby’s 12th weekaversary, and I’m back on the blog. I’d have been here earlier, but I’m too lazy to type one-handed, and since I have our little one in my other hand most of the time (when I’m not at work, that is)...
When I was six, I thought grownuppery would happen at nine. At nine, I thought thirteen was the age of adulthood. At thirteen, I knew I was at the pinnacle of wisdom and maturity – if only my teachers and parents would acknowledge that I was their equal. Once I got...
Frequently Asked Questions: 1) How are you feeling? Queasy and tired, thanks. And you? 2) How far along are you? 18 weeks. And, yes, still regularly visited by the quease. The second trimester is a myth. So is the “morning” in morning sickness. Just so you...
Other than the occasional college hand-me-down, garage sale find, or unnecessary kitchen appliance, my main contribution to our household’s decorating scheme comes in book form. Hardcover, paperback, electronic – if you can read it, I’ve probably...
I am not a girly-girl. I’ve never treated myself to a manicure, I have less interest in shoes than most men, and my blow dryer last saw action several months ago when I removed one those flashy stickers some companies like to plaster all over their products. And...
I’m seeing a new dentist. I suppose that makes it sound like we’re dating, but it’s actually more serious than that. This guy, after all, has greater responsibilities than selecting a restaurant and picking up the check. (Do men even do that...
I bought a tub of cottage cheese the other day, which means my weight loss plan finally has a chance of working. I never would have made the connection, except the other night hubby and I were in a restaurant and, while I was trying to decide which delectably greasy...
My husband and I lie back-to-back on the hotel bed, neither moving in case the other is finally on the cusp of sleep. No talking, no fidgeting. Those are the rules. Like most motels, a blaring yellow light floods the concrete walkway outside our door. It spills around...
