Tag archives: love
Nothing taps into the hopeless romantic
buried deep beneath my sarcastic exterior like a wedding. Such a magical
event—the couple who radiates happiness, the toasts that bring on laughter and
tears, the music and dancing (I especially love that part!).
I love it all really, but the longer I
am married, the more it is the ceremony itself that affects me. Two optimistic
souls saying, “I’m a nut job. You’re a nut job. Let’s see if we can win this
game of life together.”
Ok, so that’s not in most vows, but
isn’t it ...
This week my parents
celebrated 42 years of marriage. In a Facebook, my mother pondered if anyone
truly understands the promises they are making when they get married. Her
conclusion was that they don’t. Anyone who’s been married a decent length of
time would probably agree—I know I do.
I’m glad my parents
didn’t have a clue when they said their vows because they may not have followed
through. My childhood wasn’t exactly spent basking in the warmth of their happy
marriage. My parents wed at ages 19 and 21. They had me a ...
After a busy week made even more challenging by the
itchy, watery eyes of spring, I washed down deep dish pizza and a Benadryl with
two glasses of white wine and fell into bed. (A doctor may not approve of this
combo, which is why I didn’t consult mine.)
My dreams of sleeping in were shattered at 6 a.m.
by my daughter screaming, “Mommy, come here quick.”
I stumbled blindly into her room, where I didn’t
need my glasses to realize what had happened. One sniff and I was wide awake.
Orange vomit on the floor, the ...
My husband isn’t a flower man. He’s much too practical to
buy something that will die in a week. In fact, I can count on one hand the
number of times in our 17-year relationship that he’s given me flowers.
There was my birthday two months after we started dating and
a few times when he was working as a bike courier. (Let me tell you, a bleached blond, tan, fit bike
courier bringing you flowers on a Friday evening is hot—even if it is your
husband!). And there was last year right after a wonderful ...
My daughter is in love with a pencil sharpener.
It’s true; she told me so. It’s nothing really
special, just a small pink container to hold the shavings that twirl off one of
the two sharpening blades.
Yet, she obsessed for two days about how she was
getting a pencil sharpener and once she had it, she promptly began sharpening every
pencil she could find.
I would question her sanity except that her
obsession reminds me a bit of one of my silly loves: my dishes from Crate and
Barrel. They are nothing special either, just simple white ...