That ain’t no etch-a-sketch.

As a foreword: I intended to publish this reflection exactly a year from the day we found out I was pregnant. I wrote all of this out and waited patiently for October 17. On October 16, I double-checked the dates and realized I had missed it. I found out on October 10. I was upset with myself enough to not post it at all, which is (was) a shame. Motherhood is teaching me lots of little lessons, namely to stop being so damn hard on myself. Proceed.  Continue reading “That ain’t no etch-a-sketch.”

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Book Reviews: Oliphant, Slade, and Party of One.

Last year I resolved to read 50 books. I read a whopping 16 books total. I even solicited many wonderful people to recommend books for me to read in 2017. It was a magnificent list of books I would not normally read. I did not read a single one. My 2017 reading collection was mostly birth and parenting books, accented by a few light reads.

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So many sad, blank books.

This year, I am back to reading with a vengeance. At least for now. Here are my first three books of 2018 and my thoughts: Continue reading “Book Reviews: Oliphant, Slade, and Party of One.”

Writing: One word at a time.

It’s hard to read what you’ve written over a decade ago and be sure it is more witty, fearless, and fun than anything you could produce at this moment. To read what you wrote when you were unattached, ignorant, and for all intents and purposes, fearless. To realize you now live in the shadows of social media voyeurism. It’s like being on the outside looking in at what you once had and think you’ve lost. I was once so in love with myself I wanted to document my every thought, lyric, quote, and poorly put together outfit. I miss that blind self-love. That misguided narcissism. I remember writing I wanted to change the world and believed I could. Where does belief like that go? Does it get buried under social norms? Fossilized under the pressure to be likable? Obliterate by the desire to blend in? Continue reading “Writing: One word at a time.”

Harlow: A birth story.

**Warning for explicit language & skin. I refuse to call anything to do with pregnancy and birth, gross, because it’s not. It’s beautiful and one of the coolest things humans can do. That being said, if bodily fluids are not your thing, this is not for you.** Continue reading “Harlow: A birth story.”

NFL Draft 2017: The Brownsiest.

One year ago, I attended the Cleveland Frowns’ Draft Party at the Map Room. Surrounded by my favorite degenerates, drinking vodka sodas like my life depended on it. My only regret was not ordering a pizza to help sop up the liquor. I had no illusions the 2016 draft would cure my beloved Browns. We had RGIII and with him, we could draft some QBs in later rounds to develop. I was unphased when the Browns traded down and similarly apathetic when we used our number fifteen pick for Coleman. Continue reading “NFL Draft 2017: The Brownsiest.”

Blood Sugar Problems: My euphemism for gestational diabetes.

My pregnancy, until a month ago, has been blissfully uneventful. There are so very many tests but, tests have always been a friend of mine. Much like my many years in the educational system, I passed each test with flying colors…until I didn’t. I could have guessed this about myself, but have never had to really face it until now – I suck at failing. Low Vitamin D levels, fine. Iron deficiency, I can work with that. Low lying placenta, there’s still time and nothing I can do about that. Failed my one-hour glucose test, that’s okay, I barely failed, I’m sure the three-hour will clear me. Failed my three-hour glucose test, which meant I had gestational diabetes. Insert record scratch here.

Continue reading “Blood Sugar Problems: My euphemism for gestational diabetes.”