This is a post about mugs. Yes, you read that correctly. More accurately, I guess, this is a story about mugs. I've recently published some heavy stuff on here, and though I always like to share the parts of life that are hardest (about "what hurts" as my main main Hemingway has advised)-- --and sometimes I simply post because I am fortunate ...
Hey, you guys. I have some great news. Apparently the universe has not, in fact, been sending me signals that I should avoid being virtuous by eating more healthful superfoods. Yes, I had three kale-amities, but I was wrong about the common denominator; You see, I had thought it was the kale. No, no, no, my friends. This is what ...
The idealism and sense of control I felt this morning based on some creative imaginative play and happy moods has now devolved into this: It is 5pm. I have been placed in a tiara and am being forced to wield a wand. My hot cocoa just exploded in my microwave. And then I choked on it. And, my daughter ...
you don't have to change from your pajamas. You can stuff your belly with brownies and brie cheese and it feels good because you have nowhere else to be. You can linger over your mug of cocoa, from your perch on the nursery floor, and laugh with your full heart and full belly, at the giggling, squealing little pink person before you. You kiss ...
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