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A Very {Peter Gallagher} Christmas To You & Yours, Friend.

Happy Day After Thanksgivi- Oh. Oh, ginger snap. I’ve just been told that we’ve experienced a few snows, it’s no longer November, and apparently the anniversary of Jesus H. Christ’s birth is this week. There is a  surprise fiesta of colorful twinkle lights draped across an artificial tree in my living room, and a toddler… Continue reading A Very {Peter Gallagher} Christmas To You & Yours, Friend.

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Word To Your Mother, Wednesday.

In the Week household, Wednesday is the mild, middle child. She is quiet with the knowledge that she is far better than her dreadful and vicious older sister Monday, slightly more appreciated than her screw-up brother, Tuesday, not nearly as pretty as her antsy little sister, Thursday, and will never, ever feel loved the same… Continue reading Word To Your Mother, Wednesday.

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Hide Your Ha Ha: Notes On When To Stop Joking

    There are many a pleasant thing to be besides hilarious. I’ve learned, through one million repetitions of skewed punch lines and various degrees of humiliation, that being the funny girl is, oddly enough, not much fun at all. For a little insight I suppose we should go back to the root of the problem: Mrs.… Continue reading Hide Your Ha Ha: Notes On When To Stop Joking

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Dear Liza, There’s a hole in my bucket (list).

“Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?”  – Mary Oliver     I rushed through my normal morning storm of quickly gulped coffee, diaper changes, washing of slobber-soaked clothes, blog adjustments, nap schedules, feeding and cleaning and remembering to breathe for just a minute before deciding to… Continue reading Dear Liza, There’s a hole in my bucket (list).

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Better than Speling Bea Runnor Up

    I am successful in the field of almost winning things. To console myself after countless defeats, I often celebrated Winning in the Almost Winning category, but I knew the truth. I was not meant to rush the stage and give an elaborate acceptance speech. My mother wouldn’t let me sport acrylic nails and glittery bikinis as a… Continue reading Better than Speling Bea Runnor Up