Our Life in CAPS LOCK

So we have some news. We made an offer on a house yesterday morning. (A yellow one, obviously.) It was a lowball offer, but I wrote the sellers a letter, which apparently made a huge difference. (Go meeeeeee!) They countered, we accepted, we close on August 21. (And now you know where we're moving, if you can make it out through all the screaming.) (And yeah, my child is in his underwear because he doesn't have any clean pajamas. Because his parents haven't done a single blessed load of laundry in weeks. That was probably the last time I bothered to makeup on, too. What of it? We found us a house, bitches!) Read more →


There Is a Tire at the End of This Post

So a small handful of people expressed concerns (or rather hopes, dreams) that this blog was the source of the Stress That Is Eating Amy's Skin Alive, and that I was perhaps vagueblogging about its imminent demise/shutdown. To which I say: Sorry, Internet. You're still not getting rid of this ol' dinosaur just yet. I mean, honestly, you guys are pretty great. You are funny and kind and also I SUPER APPRECIATE how understanding and engaged you've been with the recent uptick in sponsored posts. (Which wasn't exactly planned for, and I doubt will continue much longer; it's more a result of typical feast/famine on that sort of thing.) I will continue to post here as much as a can and to also do my best to make the sponsored stuff as amusing as possible, or at least seem like something I would write about regardless. (Speaking of: Attention winemakers... Read more →


Happy New Year From the Village Idiots

We stayed home on New Year's Eve. Grilled up some steaks, made some baller sweet potatoes, sent the kids to bed at the usual hour, settled down on the couch to watch a movie, be exceedingly boring, etc. After blowing through enough wine and cocktails to bring down an elephant on a metal band's tour bus, we decided to switch to bubbly for the big countdown moment. Jason opted to amp the excitement up even further with a champagne-bottle sabering demonstration. It was very important to him that I record this moment. (Language NSFW. We talk like I write! HAPPY 2015 MOTHERFUCKERS!) Read more →


Kids Be Shopping

So...I guess it's time to rethink our stroller strategy? About five minutes after this, we lost Ezra. Ten minutes after that, we found him. On a completely different floor of the store. Inside of a tent. 15 minutes after that they still somehow managed to get us and our money into the Lego Store because oh yeah totally sure everybody needs more Legos Jesus Interlocking Christ. On second thought, maybe I'll just do the rest of the back-to-school shopping online. Read more →


Well, it happened. He's three now. I don't think he can quite believe it either. It is kind of a lot to handle. We never figured out what "pirate treasure" was, but in between the day in the backyard with family and friends, the bubble machine , water table , endless watermelon slices, barbecue chicken and corn on the cob and rolls (ROLLS!) and a ton of superhero and dinosaur-related gifts, he never asked about it. He did ask for his birthday A LOT, however, from the moment he woke up until this moment right here. Where's my birthday? I want my birthday. "My birthday" = a cupcake. Naturally. He skipped his nap. He spent all day outside, running, jumping, shooting water guns, chasing bubbles, hitting whiffle balls, and trying to climb his first tree. I'm just surprised he managed to stay awake and not faceplant right into his birthday.... Read more →


This one, for some reason. This one is getting me. How is he five? How is he so great, so lovely, so fragile, gentle and small and yet bursting with a personality that's easily 10 times his size? This one, I have no words for. Except for these: I love you. We love you. We're so lucky to have you. Happy birthday, funny boy. (Music: One Foot Boy by Mika) Read more →


Ike is many many things. Ike is very cute, very funny, very smart, very passionate about getting the specific kind of liquid he requested in a very specific cup. (I mean, the boy asked for mulk in a plain red cup and you tried to give him joos in a Go Diego Go cup. You sir, do not deserve your nice eardrums, and shall be punished accordingly.) Ike is also a tiny bit sassy. Ike is NOT, however, a performing monkey, and lately seems to get real and actual delight from thwarting my attempts to document the cute/funny/smart things he says and does. Oh, he'll indulge me off-camera endlessly — say this, say that, count your shoes, do that weird forehead-to-the-floor-butt-to-the-sky breakdancing move again — but then the second my fingers inch towards the record button he's all, IKE'S OUT, BITCHES. His next birthday montage will be heavy on shots... Read more →


Zero One Two

It's Ike's birthday tomorrow. But bear with me for just a second. I'd never even heard of Alabama Shakes before they were on SNL back in February. Jason and I were sitting on the couch (on Sunday morning, naturally, watching a recording because we never stay up that late anymore) when they first took the stage and started to play "Hold On." We both sort of...froze after a minute, as we were hit with that thunderstruck feeling you get when you hear music that you just really, really love. And I loved everything about them. The rich, Janis-like voice coming from the lead singer; the crazy, completely unselfconscious way she contorted her mouth to create bluesy, primal sounds; the way the whole band let the song casually, effortlessly unfurl with a slow burn to a frenzied climax without thrashing around on stage or pyrotechnics or or props or naked body... Read more →