For our anniversary, we did our typical thing of better parenting through abandonment (patent pending) and once again left the boys with the grandparents while we got a hotel room in D.C. and did all sorts of scandalous things like SLEEP IN and READ BOOKS and BUY ALLERGY MEDICINE AT CVS. Back when we were first married, we would sometimes talk about how we would celebrate the big milestone-type anniversaries. We were VERY ambitious: I think we decided that at 10 years we'd throw a big party and renew our vows at a vineyard (on top of a mounnntain), and at 15 years we'd go to Italy. Then the actual milestones come up and we're like, what? We barely tolerated our original wedding, why did we think we'd ever feel some buring desire to do that again? And while a trip to Italy still sounds pretty awesome...well, The Book of... Read more →


Today is my 15th wedding anniversary. Fiiiifteeeenth. Just think: only one more year until my marriage is old enough to drive. I still wouldn't let it babysit your kids or liquor cabinet or anything. The maturity level just isn't quite there yet. I was planning to write some longwinded sentimental thing today, and talk about him and me and us and how awesome it all is to be married to your best friend and also the best person you've ever met, period, and how it doesn't feel like 15 years. Maybe more like five, even though our oldest child is almost eight and we were already married seven years before he came along so that math doesn't make a lick of sense. Plus I wouldn't even want to go back to only being married for five years because 15 is more fun, more honest, more comfortable and yet also more... Read more →


Yesterday was the 16th Valentine's Day Jason and I have spent together. Sixteenth. Shortly before our first Valentine's Day together, on our very first date, this happened: You can read the full story behind this newspaper clipping here. Highly recommended reading, especially if you've never dug that far back (2005!) into my blog archives. I would love to say oh, isn't it funny how much I relied on CAPS LOCK and run-on sentences for humor back then, but that would probably spark some kind of existential "LOOK AT YOUR LIFE. LOOK AT YOUR CHOICES."-type crisis that I've been yammering on for over nine years and have still not managed to grow as a writer in the slightest, and it's only 11 am and thus too early to start drinking and hurling glasses at walls because I CAN'T QUIT YOU CAPS-LOOOOOOOOCCCCCKKKK. Short version, though, for anybody who ain't got time for... Read more →


Hey! Remember when Thanksgiving happened? I do the same thing every year: I intend to ROCK OUT with a whole slew of Thanksgiving-related blog posts. I make such a big goddamn deal out of the holiday in real life that you'd think my blog would reflect that. Maybe take a yearly dive into recipe blogging and 500-word entries about napkins. Show you the real depths of my vintage glassware obsession. (It's deep, man. Like The Descent, only with more bowls.) Instead, I completely freak out over EVERYTHING that needs to be done in preparation for Thanksgiving that my blog basically sits silent while its author runs around like a headless turkey hopped up on coffee brine in the distant background. Then I gorge myself on challah-bread stuffing and sleep for four days straight. IN OTHER WORDS, will y'all please indulge me and... Read more →


I Want To Belieeeeeeeeve

I have no idea how we got on the subject of Bloody Mary -- the ghosty sleepover dare, not the drink -- but somehow, we did. A little vodka may have been involved, but I am definitely sure that tomato juice and celery were not. Jason and I both grew up in very, very religious households, and because of this, had both achieved adulthood without ever -- EVER -- attempting the Bloody Mary game. We believed that just by THINKING about Satan or evil things, one was technically inviting demonic influence, or even full-on possession. That shit was real, man, in an incredibly literal sense, and the idea of actively baiting a ghost/demon/evil spirit like that was a genuinely terrifying prospect that neither of us would ever mess with. I have a vague memory of standing in a darkened bathroom after first hearing the story from my friends...and THINKING about... Read more →


I had a really nice Valentine's Day, thank you for not asking, but allowing me to pretend that you did. We're all organic and conversational up in this bitch! For the first time in years, I was thoroughly pleased with my own gift-and-card-related offerings for Jason: Geeky Han-and-Leia bracelets from Spiffing Jewelry. Super-highly-mature card from Wit and Whistle. Usually I get completely out-gifted by my thoughtful, creative husband while I'm like: Here's a sweater? It's red? I bought you some chocolates but I ated them? Not that Jason did too shabbily himself, or anything. But he's an established pro at Valentine's Day -- gifts! flowers! candy! pampering! home-cooked gourmet meals and champagne! -- so I'm usually just happy to not suck too badly at it. Since the babysitter works on Tuesdays, we played hooky had a lunch date together at a restaurant nearby, a place we've gone several times with... Read more →


Shh, shh. Let's not talk about any further unpleasantness. Let's all just cross our fingers and hope that things continue in their current state, which is fine. And dead. As in, the scalp in question is fine, and all the unpleasantness that we are NOT TALKING ABOUT are dead. I think, should this blogging thing not work out, that I may have found my calling as an Obsessive Scalp Comber. I am ruthless and thorough. I am the Nit Whisperer. I am...talking about the thing I JUST SAID I didn't want to talk about anymore. Let's change the subject. Lookit! Pitchers! Last Christmas, the lovely and patient Isabel sent me a gift card for the lovely and patient Blue Lily Photography. I was pregnant, AS YOU MAY RECALL AS I THINK I MENTIONED IT ONCE OR TWICE OR A BAJILLION TIMES, and I went ahead and signed up for a... Read more →


God, isn't BlogHer just the worst? First, we all bore our readers with ZOMG I'M GOING TO BLOGHER posts. Then we go to BlogHer and don't post anything because we're so busy and crazy or can't get on the hotel wifi or are basically, just drunk as shit the whole time. Then we come home and don't post anything because we're so tired out from BlogHer. Or if we do post anything, it's all, "ZOMG I'M SO TIRED FROM BLOGHER." And then followed by some random crappy photos we took with our phone that don't make any sense because you totally had to be there and stuff. Ugh. I hate when bloggers do that. *** This is a photo I took of my roommate taking a photo of the leftover room service cart full of half-eaten breakfast items that we pushed in of Jason Mayo and TwoBusy's room across the... Read more →


Okay, blah, fine. Birth stories and hospital/breastfeeding drama are all well and good, but AMY! THE SWING! WHAT ABOUT THE SWING, AMY? The swing was still in pieces on the day Ike was born, which was also coincidentally the day we discovered that indeed, Ike was easily comforted by swinging/swaying/rocking movements. Jason commented on this and I said NOTHING, though I did shoot him a DRAMATIC PRAIRIE DOG look. He got the point. "I'll fix the swing." He went up in the attic but alas! The missing connector piece was nowhere to be found. He waited until the next day to confess this to me, via text message from the aisles of Target, where he was contemplating buying a new swing. "WAIT WAIT Internet can help! Commenters offered to send part!" I texted back. But it was too late. My husband -- who does not generally get too worked up... Read more →