Skip to main content


On stepping on pets

I'm not sure what was going on this morning with the alignment of the stars (and the alignment of the pets), but things were not going well.   My heater broke, which, since it has been on its last leg for about three months, was not a surprise.   My pets, for some reason, all managed to end up underneath my feet at some point before 9:30 a.m. This is not a surprise either, because I'm convinced that, emotionally, the cats, at least, are torn between showing me love by winding between my feet, and trying to trip me for kicks and giggles by winding between my feet.  I have not as of yet, in my 13 years with them, figured out whether they love me or just care because they want me to feed them. The dog, though, does not usually end up under my feet, mostly because he is the dog equivalent of 150 years old or so and spends most of his time sleeping on the couch. This morning, however, he smelled that I was making food for the cats, he liked the smell, and he decided he clearly neede


Me ( putting non-dairy creamer on Freecycle ): "I do not like this creamer because it is too sweet. I will be home all day. Pick-up is near the intersection of * and *." Person : Oooh! I want it! Pick me. Me ( private messages the person ): When would you like to pick it up? Person : Umm. I don't know. I'm not sure how far you are from me. Where are you located? Me ( sigh ): The intersection of * and *. Her : Oh. That's a bit far. What time can I come over? Me : Anytime. I am home. Just let me know when. Her : Is the creamer very sweet? I'm not supposed to have too much sugar. Me : I'm getting rid of it because it's too sweet for me... Her : Can you please go look and tell me how many grams of sugar there are and what the serving size is? I may need to pass... Me : ( in my head ) Seriously? Am I getting up off the couch for this!? ( in messenger ) It is 3 g of sugar per Tb. That means for every tablespoon of creamer you put

Tactics to Delay Bedtime

  "If we had the ability to throw up our 'tomach acid, it would kind of be like a Dilophosaurus. Unless they have a gland in their necks that make the acid and it's not really stomach acid. It would probably hurt a lot to get hit by it, but probably not as much as falling in lava. If you were lucky. If you were lucky, it wouldn't hurt that bad." -Things my son verbally contemplates instead of going to sleep, #49720 via GIPHY

The Haunted House and the Flying Ghost Car

    I think my house was haunted.   Was.  Like, I don't think it is anymore, but you know what they say about little kids and ghosts and stuff, so maybe it still is but my kid just can't pick up the vibes anymore. About a year ago, I was minding my own business and waiting for the Instacart order to arrive.  When the shopper arrived, she looked at me and the house as though she'd seen a ghost and greeted me with, "I was friends with the family who lived here before.  The dad died here pretty young after being slipped something bad at a party." Ooookay. Actually, this explains a lot. I should backtrack.  When my son was  about a year and a half old, he came running out of his room to the kitchen where I was making dinner. Don't judge.  My house is literally about 50 feet long.  Yes.  I know what literally means.  And my house is literally, not figuratively, 50 feet long.  My kid's room is, like, no inches away from the kitchen. I digress (albeit a tad bitte

Worst Pet Owner Ever? Darth. Vader.

I am not a "playing" mom.  I do not enjoy getting down on the floor and playing cars or whatnot.  I do not mind, however, playing pretend games in which, as my son says, "You be (that character) and I'll be (this character) and we'll just talk like them and pretend."  I'm totally cool with those sorts of games because I can do them while going for a walk, cooking dinner, or even sitting in a chair eating ice cream.  You should try it sometime; it's good family bonding. Some days, I am the Pink Power Ranger, and he is Green.  Others, I am one of his Smashers* toys and he is another.   When he was little, he was always Batman and I was Robin, and he'd say, "I'm done going potty, Robin!  Can you come wipe me now?  I love you, Robin!" and the whole game got a little awkward, even though it was also endearing in an awkward way. Today, we played Star Wars.  He was Luke, and I was Leia.  -------------------------------------------- Dear Sw

Toilet Koalas and Booze: What Happens in a Pandemic Stays in a Pandemic

This morning, when Dear Sweet Son and I went for our morning HyperHund walk, we ran into a little girl and her dad, who was holding a tote bag.  The little one was about two years old and gave me a huge smile. "Hi there, sweetie!" I said enthusiastically, "Look at you with that big smile on your face!" "Oh yeah!" the dad answered cheerfully, without skipping a beat, "She's smiling because we're walking to the liquor store and she gets a piece of candy when we get there!" Now, you may be thinking that I might secretly be judging that dad for walking his toddler to the liquor store at 9:00 a.m. with an empty tote bag, ripe for the filling, but let me tell you something:  in a pandemic, anything goes. Dude clearly needs a drink by 10:00 a.m.   I'm not judging. Kid needs candy at 9:00.  No judgment (except if you spell judgment this way: "judgement," because then I'm totally judging you for sucking at spelling "judgment

"Group Activities, " Homeschooling, and Other Ways to Make Me Lose My Mind

As you may know from my article on Scary Mommy , I have decided to take a leave of absence from teaching this year to homeschool my son during "these uncertain times."  I'll let that article speak for itself since I don't usually write in a serious manner, and seriousness has no (or at least, very little) place here. Lest you think I am forgoing a year's worth of salary because I am a superdeeduper lazy teacher and I like to loaf around in my multi-million-dollar home on my ginormous savings account while my son panders to my every wish and feeds me grapes and bonbons between Pinterest-worthy homeschooling sessions filled with cute crafts and and intellectually-stimulating science experiments, let me correct your thinking. People. Teaching 25 angsty tweens belonging to someone else in a classroom is actually infinitely easier than trying to homeschool my one kid who wants to be back at (pre-Corona) school. Lately, I have been depending mostly on worksheet type boo