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Overinvolved in blogging

We’ve all been there, when we suddenly realize we are the Overinvolved Mom. I am now taking my writing, editing and a few old posts over to Overinvolvedmom.com, but we all know that’s… Continue reading

Live from the rubble

Originally posted on The Two Boys Club:
My horribly messy kids love to throw crap. And they also love to clean crap up. Not necessarily the stuff they just slathered all over the…

The age of excess

Last night, I was on solo duty putting the boys to bed. Since we recently moved, we now have a luxurious setup where each boy has his own room. That has worked out… Continue reading

Tiny man lives by bread and cheese alone

Last night, The Younger was adamant that he would not eat a quesadilla, no way, no how. He also wouldn’t have a grilled cheese, or cheese and crackers. “Yuck!” But Annie’s mac and… Continue reading

Sometimes you want to go when everybody knows your name

I can no longer focus for longer than three minutes in my own home, which is likely the result of some sort of post-traumatic stress from being jumped on by 40-pound males through… Continue reading

Beatrix Potter into snuff, canings

Does this repeat post mean I’m now officially a Bunny Blogger? Is there money in that? In theory, I love the originals of all literature, nothing removed, nothing censored, exactly as the author… Continue reading

Here Comes Peter Cottontail, Hopping Down the Polyethylene Trail …

A rerun. I hope it’s an oldie-but-goodie. It seems I blog about bunny-related stuff a lot. Easter is just full of hazards. The Eldest and I attended a big egg hunt a few… Continue reading

Time to be a kid – in between art at 4 and soccer at 5:15

Three after-school activities seem like enough for The Elder, but it’s hard to hold back when all of the other six-year-olds are not just doing soccer, but soccer, tee-ball, hockey and basketball, and… Continue reading

‘Mommy, we asked you for hamachi and tamago!’

Last Friday, it happened again. I served dinner, and everybody cried. Well, not me or my husband, or the cat. Just the two little boys with rarefied tastes – who are far too… Continue reading

The watermelon seed, in memoriam

“Seeds! Seeds!” shrieks the three-year-old, terrified of the tiny flecks of white in his seedless watermelon. Kid, I say, you don’t know from watermelon seeds. Once upon a time, eating a slice of… Continue reading