“What’s in a name? That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet.” This quote from Romeo and Juliet pops into my head every time I get drawn into a discussion on names. What the hell does that even mean? I guess this is probably the time where I admit…
Dora the Explorer turns 15 this month. I will just let that sink in. Pity me, people. I have a 23-year-old and two 5-year-olds…and yes, I know that’s a big gap between kids. Laura was eight when Dora first came on the air. We had about a year and a half of “OMG everything about…
Have you ever heard the phrase “it’s the little things in life that count?” I’ve always taken that to mean appreciation for something small and easily overlooked, such as the beauty of a sunset or the smell of a baby’s head. And what is it with the smell of a baby’s head, anyway? It’s like…
This post was sponsored by Drive Shop and Mitsubishi, who graciously allowed us to drive one of their awesome vehicles for a week. The opinions and the (hopefully) awesome water park tips are all mine. I know everyone is in back-to-school mode, including us, but we’re still squeezing the last bit of juice out of…
Five is a magical age. The “threenager” phase and the “f—ing fours” are (not so) dim memories. Oh, and new moms? Anyone who ever tries to tell you about the terrible twos is lying. Three and four are much worse…so, so much worse. Five year olds are starting to assert their independence: they can dress…
“Be careful how you phrase that question about egg rolls,” a comment from someone near and dear might go. “Jill’s sensitive about Chinese stuff.” adoption My two boys are adopted from China. My nearest and dearest have commented on my “adoption sensitivity” a time or 700 over the past few years. But I don’t think…
Everyone around me is in back-to-school mode. My own kids start school in five days and I hope like hell I’ve bought everything on their two mile long supply list because the thought of going back into Walmart one more time makes me twitchy. As my two five-year-old bundles of energy and terror gear up…
We’ve made it through the terrible twos (which really aren’t that bad), the terrible threes (which really are that bad) and we find ourselves smack in the middle of the effing fours (which make me want to drink and say lots of bad words). The preschool years are messy, exhausting, and whiz by all too…
I don’t suck at motherhood because I take antidepressants To my dear readers: When I first starting writing, most of my material was adoption-specific because it was the biggest thing going on in my life. I would read all kinds of blog posts and Facebook status updates about what a miracle adoption was and how families…
I don’t know my son’s birthday. He has an official birth date of record. Someday he will go to the DMV to apply for a driver’s license and there is a date he will put down. It’s probably pretty close to the actual day he was born but that piece of the puzzle, that nugget…