Seeking combobulation

I didn’t realize I’d been looking for my word but I seem to have found it.

I had a dream a few days ago, the night before picking up my younger son from camp. I was at my parents’ house looking through the fridge and found a finger standing up on the top shelf. It belonged to my older son.

“What happened?” I yelled.

Fears of a conference wallflower

Went to BlogHer12 in NYC this past weekend - me and 5,000 gals and a handful of guys who all have a blogging habit – which, I worried, would be as useless for making friends as having shared a difficulty inserting a first tampon, or a love of metaphor. It was a crazy scene and it’s possible I wasn’t dressed for it.

A not so new day

I was sitting in a café with my computer about a year and a half ago when another writer I know sat down at the table beside me. I wouldn’t have used the title another writer at the time since I wasn’t yet bold enough to call myself one.

What’s a vacation?

I’m feeling a bit lost these days. It’s not a writing block exactly, more a directional dilemma. Yes, I’ve torn down many writing paths, some simultaneously over the last 22 months, but at this moment while many are wide open, no flashing signs are pointing or pulling me in any one direction, or any five. I’m grateful that so many directions are available, they just don’t happen to be beckoning, and right now I’m in need of beckoning.

Sorry I’m late, I was busy having it all

I’d tell you this was the hardest blog post to write but the truth is I couldn’t even open a blank page. That makes it the hardest post I’ve contemplated writing. (In case you're interested, I don’t compose online, I do it in Word, then copy. I don’t trust cyberspace because I can’t throw it.)

Blogola or Buy this fab shoe

I’ve been reading about ads and product placement on mommy blogs lately, and the ongoing ethical debate about the sell-out-y-ness of them. While it’s not as bad as scientists taking research money from drug companies, I understand that the authenticity of someone’s voice might feel compromised when they are trying to shove a stroller, a onesie, or miracle stretch-mark cream down your throat.

As if running isn't enough

How complicated does a sports bra get to be? It can't be too complicated to wear or to tweet about.  "Pulls over the head. Leaves your tits two separate entities. (Or not)."


I bought the cell phone. Ya, that one. Do they even call it a cell phone anymore?

The problem with a smart phone is that if you’re dumb (technologically speaking) having a smart phone is a) no help b) likely to make you feel stupider. It’s like giving the Oxford English Dictionary with the magnifying glass to an illiterate.

Moving Earth

Aside from writing, which barely qualifies, I’m not much of a DIY (do it yourself) girl. I’m more of a GSE (get someone else) type. However, I felt the need over the past few days to move earth, (but luckily not heaven, because I wasn’t up for that). And so I did, buckets and buckets full.

At Home in My Blog

Sometimes I worry my little blog doesn’t get enough of my attention. Not that I’m feeding it less, just that it’s taking up less space in my brain.