Spring break didn’t turn out at all as I’d planned. We were supposed to go to Chicago to visit friends. Then I got a phone call. “I think I just really f-ed up.” My friend went on to explain she’d been to a pox party and her kids should be getting chicken pox the day . . . → Read More: To Pox or Not to Pox?
It makes sense to get sick in the winter, when it’s cold outside and the air is totally dry because you’re running the heater all the time. But summer bugs? Come on!
When I picked him up from school Friday and one of the other kids had puked in the main room, I suspected we . . . → Read More: Summer Bugs
I got smudged last night. No, that’s not new slang. I gave up on that when I started teaching high school at 25. Even back then, I couldn’t keep up.
The smudging ceremony consisted of lighting sage in a small cauldron and outlining each of our bodies in smoke, which she directed with a hand . . . → Read More: May We Be Well
My least favorite way to wake up (that I can think of) is being puked on. It’s funny, actually, because as I was going to sleep last night, I was thinking that the most mundane and joyful interaction I have with Cavanaugh is the way he wakes me up. He kisses me on the cheek . . . → Read More: A Rude Awakening
Yesterday, my eye did something I had no idea it was capable of. The white of my eye swelled up around the iris as if it were trying to smother it. It was so enlarged, closing the lid was difficult.
At first, I thought it was just goo from an allergic reaction. Then I realized, . . . → Read More: Blurred Vision
I had great intentions for the start of the new year: making vows to myself, doing a collage for 2011 with all I wanted to manifest this year, and starting the Happiness Project with a group of friends.
Then I got a head cold, which traveled into the rest of my body and sent me . . . → Read More: Good Intentions
Your first divorced Christmas can really sock you in the gut. Not just Christmas day but the entire season has great potential to be absolutely miserable. I have been determined to catch the Christmas spirit somehow. It’s like baseball practice really. Imagine me out in a field, hand up running around madly and you’ll have . . . → Read More: Catching Christmas
Darn Lucy and her threats to pop Snoopy if he gives her a kiss. What to do with a four-year old who threatens, “I’m gonna pop you,” when I say that we’re not going to read another chapter before bed?
First, find out where he heard I’m gonna pop you, then talk about how we . . . → Read More: Don't Pop Me
One of the symptoms of my late thirties is that when I’m fighting a cold, I get shooting pains in my left ear. It tends to throw a person off balance, at least this person. And last week, it was an incredible gift.
They started on Tuesday night, along with the tightness in my chest . . . → Read More: Unasked for Gifts
Cavanaugh went to bed with sneezes and little coughs last night. I propped him up on his stuffed dolphin so he wouldn’t get too congested. I bundled him in cozy clothes, put the down comforter on the bed, gave him colloidal silver and elderberry syrup. This morning he woke with a stuffy nose and a . . . → Read More: Just Little