Dear Diary, Saint Motel and rage no more.

I mentioned on Monday that this has been a really unusual time for my little family, filled with hills and valleys (I likened it to a mountain, before, but I will make it simple, tonight). I wrote about how on Sunday we did things like Build Bears, eat popovers and lose our son in the mall ...

“Whenever you feel unhappy…”

Yesterday was a pretty heavy day around these parts. And so today, I'm taking time to exhale and spend time with my guy, Brett Dennen. Because sometimes, you just have to dance it out. So that's what I implore you to do. Just dance it out. To my man Brett, and my favorite song, "Sydney (I'll Come Running)". Dance around your ...

Dancing on my (our) own.

So, today, we had a moment; a little chunk of time during which we were feeling crummy, feeling blah, and a bit overwhelmed. Maybe it was a case of the Sundays, or a post-champagne-funk, but it wasn't fun. So, obviously we had to dance it out. To Robyn. And really, it made things better. Because, at the very least, I can delight in knowing that, if nothing else, we have now ...