Apr 24 2017

Babysitters, This Is Why You Didn’t Get an Interview

Babysitters, This Is Why You Didn’t Get an Interview

There is a serious shortage of acceptable babysitters.

We used to have four of them: they answer to Grandma, Papa, Granny, and Papaw. Then we moved to a land far, far away, and ever since then it’s just been…us. For everything.

It’s not that we don’t need the help. In fact, sometimes it feels like we really, really need the help.

I would like to write — or speak — a complete sentence without someone yelling for help from the bathroom. I would like to stay in bed when I have a 101-degree fever instead of figuring out how to entertain two small people while simultaneously trying to avoid them so they do not also catch the plague. I would like to one day have a meal with my husband that does not involve high chairs, coloring books, and frantically cutting chicken into teeny tiny bites before someone implodes.

Even though my children are the very hearts of my soul, once in a while a girl kinda just wants to go on a date. That sort of thing requires a babysitter, but here’s the hard truth: the thought of leaving my children with a stranger has always made me break out into a cold sweat.

babysitter

Quite possibly the most accurate meme ever.

We held out for almost two full years. TWO. YEARS. But finally, a couple months ago, I signed up for a popular nannying/babysitting site and published a “Seeking Help” post.

I tried to ignore my niggling reservations. Some of the most phenomenal women I know have nannied (here’s looking at you, Olivia, Kristin, Jenna, and Kim) — there had to be someone out there for us. How difficult could the process be? Continue reading

Mar 23 2017

Diary of a Dog: Before and After Life with Kids By Beaker

<span class="entry-title-primary">Diary of a Dog: Before and After Life with Kids</span> <span class="entry-subtitle">By Beaker</span>

3 B.C. Diary of a DogJUNE 2010:
Not really sure where I am, but it is GREAT! Definitely digging this place. It checks off several must-haves.

dog's checklist of non-negotiables must-haves diary of a dog

I’ve been here for a few breakfasts now, so maybe this is my new pack. The Two-Leggeds sneak me some gourmet scrambled eggs each morning after my own food, I get snacks just for being cute, and I have my own bowl and everything. My OWN BOWL! Pure luxury.

There are a couple weird rules, though. Here’s one: I’m not allowed on the soft fuzzy floor yet — something about how I need to learn to “go potty outside.” Continue reading

Jan 22 2017

The Space Between Baby and Boy

The Space Between Baby and Boy

We’re in it now, this space between baby and boy.

We’re teetering, delicately and precariously, a roller coaster in its graceful pause just before the plunge. It was a little rickety at first, climbing that steep, steep slope: Sleepless nights. Endless spit-up. Needless crying. I felt each click click click of the ascent. But for now, we are floating here, balancing above the next phase of your life.

With your sister, I didn’t realize it was coming. I just woke up one morning and she was a little girl. Somehow, in one dreamless night, her ringlets grew out, her face changed, her speech solidified. I didn’t know there was a space between until it was gone.

But with you, I recognize the signs. I feel fortunate that I can see it this time around, grateful for the opportunity to soak in every last minute of your babyhood. Continue reading

Oct 25 2016

Melissa and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day

Melissa and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day

Today was a DAY, you guys. Just an absolute day.

I’ve been meaning to write about the other four hundred thousand topics in my Blog Post Queue — which is obviously a very official space in a remote corner of my brain, where I carefully collect all the ideas that rush at me throughout the week and organize them into a giant heap and then place them in the Queue to die, because Peaches really needs a sandwich and Baby B is trying to see if the dog’s ears come off and I’m pretty sure I’m supposed to tend to those things first.

Right now, though, I have to abandon the Queue to talk about a regular ol’ day in the life, which is sometimes terrible, horrible, no good, and very bad, even when everyone seems relatively healthy and no bones appear to be broken.

Oh and also: this post is not pretty or polished or shareable. It’s more of a diary entry I guess, because sometimes writing stuff down is the only thing that makes a wild mind feel semi-tame, which is a big reason this blog was born in the first place.

So anyway. Even if I’m the only one who ever reads this, that’s okay. In fact, you probably SHOULDN’T read it, especially if you’re the least bit squeamish. And/or if you’re eating.

Seriously, fair warning: if you’re still with me, put down the chicken salad sandwich. Continue reading

Sep 22 2016

A Love Letter to Michigan

A Love Letter to Michigan

My beloved Mitten,

When I left last year, I knew, absolutely, I would miss you. Somehow I always understood that you are special — even as a child, even when my then-boyfriend-now-husband-who-is-from-Virginia called you “kinda flat,” even when I was nineteen years old and it was winter in Ann Arbor and I had to lean into a blizzard on the blustery walk to class. Even then.

There’s just something about you.

After so much time away, I got to spend the whole month of August as a guest on your soil — and I remembered all those somethings. I also noticed brand new somethings, because we’d been apart for so long that I was able to look at you with fresh eyes.

Of course, people say we sometimes don’t recognize the beauty of a thing until it’s gone, and usually when I hear clichés like that, I’m all Continue reading