I am not a trusting person. This stems from a childhood with a deadbeat biological father who made a ton of promises he didn’t intend to keep. Yes, clichéd “daddy issues.” One of the many reasons I knew my husband was the one I wanted to marry is because he is the first man I have ever trusted completely that I wasn’t related to. Read More We Need To Trust Ourselves
Dear Editors: A lady who is a very distant acquaintance (and I’m not “friends” with her on facebook) is using my deceased father’s photo as her Facebook profile image. Read More Ask the Editors: Facebook Fiends
I went to a party this weekend with my extended family, most of whom I see very rarely. As with most large family gatherings, someone opened their stupid mouth and was a total jerk. Read More Seriously? Who Says That?!?
I had a pretty shite weekend. I broke my toe and spent a goodly amount of time in bed, pain meds made my tummy sour so I couldn’t eat the soup my honey concocted for me, and I was too drowsy to even enjoy a full episode of Downton Abbey on DVD. The weekend was an all around blergh. Maybe blergh +.
But as lame as my weekend was, my friend Joel had one fit for the books. His boyfriend broke up with him. On his birthday. Via text message. Read More Death by Text: The Pathology of a Bad Breakup
Let’s just get this out there up front: Colic is bullshit. For one, it’s not really a diagnosis. (Okay, so I know some docs say it’s reflux, but every baby has reflux [Hello? Spit up anyone?] so I think that’s a little too easy. And the medical community is mixed on this belief, anyway.) I believe it’s a state of being (read: crying) for some babies of a certain temperament when they are younger than three months (and sometimes longer for some poor mamas). And it doesn’t “just” mean crying. It means crying a ton – for hours and hours and hours (and hours) at a time. (My son’s record is eight, but his pediatrician knew of others who cried upwards of 12 hours. In. A. Row.) Not just because they need something. Not because they’re hungry or tired or hurt or gassy or whatever else their tiny lizard brains conceive of when they can barely focus on your boob. Nope. It’s just because they can. At least that’s the way it seemed to me when my sweet son was born screaming into this world. Read More Seven Tips to Surviving Colic: A Ladyguide
My dating life has been rather busy lately thanks to a reactivated online dating profile. Because I have taken many of these coffee dates into boyfriend territory, I’ve developed a list of red flags that let me know if I’m on a date with a jerk. Trust me when I say that 9 times out of 10, ignoring these signs leads to personal misery.
I had a very strange experience last week. The day had been awesome, the skies were blue even at 7:30 pm, I was waiting for my best friend at the bottom of the hill from where I live. We were going to a Greek dinner. Exciting. Read More How to Deal with an Unreasonable Neighbour
This post’s title and topic were inspired by my husband, who frequently comments about how seemingly everyone on the internet is a big, flaming racist. “Everyone,” in this case, will have to stand in for Americans, as he frequents mostly American websites and news sources. In his experience (and mine), American internet commenters tend to lash out the most violently against two people groups: Hispanic people (who will often be lumped together as “Mexicans”) and Muslim people (who are technically part of a religious, not ethnic, group, but the anonymous person typing furiously about bombing all the “Muslim countries” to hell rarely delineates between Muslim and non-Muslim people from the Middle East). Read More Everyone on the Internet is Racist