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Oh, The Places You’ll Go! : Straight to Hell Edition

     When people learn that my son was over 10 pounds at birth, they usually get this horrified and empathetic face about them. They speak consolatory words while inadvertently staring at my crotch. I never understood this because a push is a push.  A hole is a hole, and a head is a head. But… Continue reading Oh, The Places You’ll Go! : Straight to Hell Edition

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Right Turn To Sunnyside

When I tell people my favorite memory of childhood holidays is the carpeted ceiling of a ’89 Caravan they get all uncomfortable: Was she kidnapped? Raised by gypsy drug dealers? Sold into a life of forced blogging, writing skills exploited by a cold-hearted pimp? Oh, the adventure! But no. It was a lot simpler than… Continue reading Right Turn To Sunnyside

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All The Infants Who Independent…

… Throw a tantrum at meeeee.      My son wiggles free. I’m stuck clutching three pounds of stretched cotton balls and feeling ridiculous. I’ve wasted four bucks if I can’t just get the kid to dress up as a tampon. Not to mention that piece of “emergency”rope I cut from the garage door for a makeshift pull… Continue reading All The Infants Who Independent…

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I, meet Me.

My dad tells this charming story about the time he found the Jeff Nelsons of America. The story became charming sometime around 1993 when I realized that in addition to going by Dad, Daddy, Daddio, (whiny voice) Duh-aaaaad, and The Tennessee Wooden Spoon Spanking Machine, my father also- for some reason or another- went by Jeff Nelson. As I… Continue reading I, meet Me.

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A Year of { extra super much good + Mimi too }

So I fail decisiveness. I suppose the whole “Oh. I don’t know how to care about color schemes, can you bloggers just plan my wedding? ” bit is probably a little telling. When trying to narrow down my favorite lesson learned this year, I flip-flopped and fence-jumped and contemplated tricking you guys into voting for… Continue reading A Year of { extra super much good + Mimi too }