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No trek, No Celiac, and No Rest for the Wicked
Why do they offer your lab results online? That seems daft. I actually was a medical office assistant for a few years, and I took classes on things like “immunoglobulin” and yet, I still can barely differentiate from positive and negative. But what I did read, was that I had a negative test result for…
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And I did. Back. Down.
You’ve got to be kidding me. For all the worries, and the concerns. The hustle. The training. The money that went into things I know I’ll only ever use once – like gaitors, and ice treads, and rear-facing red lights. To the hours I spent on treadmills, and bemoaning my physical shape. To getting an…
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All my bags are packed, I’m ready to go …
I’m standing here outside your door, I hate to wake you up to say good bye. The Trek, the Crossing Trek, is coming up. Saturday morning at 7am. Tonight, the Army Surplus helped me cross off the last of the mandatory check list. And Jan helped me pile together the food I’ll need to make…
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You don’t ACTUALLY have to be the bigger person. Ever.
Head back against the wall. Close eyes. What to write about tonight? Shakira/JLo? Done. Parenting teens? Meh. That I can save for any night. How we’re all actually manipulative in conversations? Oh, gooder. Nope, too tired to expunge that sermon. I could write about the 65k trek. Or advocating for your kids to their teachers,…
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Ce-Celiac, you’re shaking my confidence daily
Every time I go to get checked, there’s an answer. An answer for everything. In 2016, it was “stress-induced IBS” likely caused by the strain of divorce, and my not eating properly. Or at all. Then there were two EKGs done over two years living in Kingston, where my heartburn and chest pains were so…
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You Deserve To Take Time Off
“QUIT WORKING!” screamed her email. And that one text message. And that time she yelled at me on the phone. She was right. A colleague of mine trying to keep me from doing the one thing I was trying so hard to not to. Work. And for the most part, it worked. How did I…
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Mama, I’m coming home
When he was 9, he made a decision that altered the face of our reality. He pulled up a seat, his legs barely long enough to rest his little feet on the patio stone. “Mommy,” he said, “I want to talk.” And his Dad was there with him. And I knew what was coming. My…
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19 Times
19 times. More than 19 times. 19 years I’ve had to tell you that I love you. That I’m proud of you. 19 years that I was afraid of you. Afraid I couldn’t be what you needed me to be. That I wouldn’t be all that was asked of me. That I would mess things…
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doting on daughters
Kid C is my youngest. My baby. And tonight, she’s my guest author. Ok, so usually you would be reading in my mom’s view, but no, today you’re reading Kid C’s view! me and mom mom do a lot of things together, we go to the mall together, I go to work with her when…
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whole lotta love
Last week, I’d make a crack on my radio show(s) that Jan and I had had a squawk, and after he’d left for work, I wrote a passive aggressive note in the alphabet magnets on our fridge. Some people were horrified. Some in particular reached out and commented that they were worried about us, and…
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