I don’t do it on purpose. It’s just that in my capacity as impulsive animal saviour, I may, on the rare occasion, leave them with PTSD. There you are, a woolly bear caterpillar or a fat earth worm, trying to make your way across the asphalt bike path, when you suddenly find yourself rolled, pushed,…
I missed being the small spoon. If I didn’t really throw my arm over David’s side, I could almost manage the big spoon. But small spoon? Months had passed since I’d been able to lie on my right side and claim that privilege. Heavy sighs. Discomfort. Near tears… a new nighttime ritual. “What is it…
SPOILER ALERT! The soft porn had been unexpected. From what I knew of the books, I’d gleaned that there’d be kilts, horses, time travel, romance to be sure – but the soft porn? A delightful bonus. The opening allusion to sex in the first episode of Outlander – was just that – allusory. Squeaky bedsprings…
“Get out of her!” Firm shake. Firm shake. “OUT! YOU. GET. OUT. OF. HER!!!“ My hands around her throat now – Chi-Chi’s eyes bugging out even more. She’s making gagging sounds, but I can still see it’s not her. “GET OUT! OUT! OUUUUUUUUUUUUUT!!!!“ “Heather.” “GET OUT!!!“ “Heather…” “YOU. LEAVE. MY. BABY. RIGHT. NOW!” David’s hand…
Butt. Butt. BUUUUUUTT. She is the smallest of our cats, but she packs a punch when she’s headbutting you first thing in the morning. Her small feline cranium careens into my temple, followed by little cat teeth attempting to groom me. Then this: “Puh! Puh! Puh! Gaaaaaaaag!” as she realizes that shoulder-length human hair is…
Rissa’s clear, perfectly pitched (to our ears) soprano drifts down the stairs. She is in the shower, as she is every night after her dance classes. For the grace that she exhibits as a dancer, this child, after 3 hours of sweating, smells like a dead goat. David and I are both working on our…
People say the stupidest crap to new moms. One of my close friends just welcomed her first baby to the world and people have been saying truly moronic, unfeeling, make-a-new-mother-doubt-herself, crap to her. To these morons I say: Yes, you have had a baby yourself. THIS baby, however, is not YOUR baby. THIS baby is…
“I love you,” says David as we snuggle in under the covers. “And I love you,” I return. I contentedly sigh. “Life is good.” “Life IS good.” “Yep.” Smooch. Smooch. You know how sometimes your brain goes off on these weird tangents? One minute, I’m kissing my husband and the next I’m doing math. Rissa…
What 80s movie are you? What’s your old person’s name? Which Dwarf are you? What breed of dog? What Harry Potter Character? What ice cream flavour? What Shakespearean heroine? What turn of the century inventor? What Norse God? What Titan? What Dr. Seuss book? What Mathematical Equation? What Scrabble letter? Okay, I admit it –…
It was my favourite day. MOVIE BINGE DAY. It’s right up there with Christmas Holidays with family and Front Row tickets to Violent Femmes. MOVIE BINGE DAY has to include at least three, if not four movies. (Just seeing two isn’t nearly decadent enough.) David’s even created an app so that you can plan your…