Cheer Camp

If the truth were known, I came from a family of mathematicians and science-geeks. My people were bookish and fair skinned, living indoors away from the sun and physical activity--like mole people. Athleticism was a word they could spell, but that's where the relationship ended. (More...)

Confessions of a Tragically Unhip Mother

I admit it; I'm not a “cool” mom. I don't listen to Hip-hop, wear micro skirts or have my own web site. I think Eminem is candy, Fifty Cent is money and a blogger is something I can cure with a bottle of Liquid Plummer. Perhaps I see motherhood as too complex already without the added burden of trying to be cool. (More...)

Glamour Puss

When I was ten, I was convinced my mother was an undercover agent working for the FBI. Sort of a female James Bond or Emma Peel of the Avengers, minus the cat suit. You have to understand, this was the pre-cable 1960's; we had imaginations of our own back then. (More...)

Me & Mr. Clean... We've got a Thing Going on

It happened again last weekend; I went speed shopping. I cruised through the housewares section of my local grocery store at a frenzied pace, wildly tossing cleaning supplies into my cart. By the time I reached the checkout I was bug-eyed and panting. (More...)

Metal Head Mom

I remember the day I discovered “the bottle”. I had just turned 18 and a friend dared me to try Miss Clairol Number Nine and I've been hitting the sauce ever since. (More...)

Misadventures in Suburbia

Suburbia is a bizarre place, filled with quirky characters. Behind its well-scrubbed houses and perfectly manicured lawns lurks a freak show of gargantuan proportion. (More...)

The Good the Bat & the Ugly

Secrets. We all have them. Some secrets are closely guarded while others are meant to be shared, like the recipe for Tex-Mex dip or the secret to wearing low-rise jeans post-pregnancy. My Good Neighbor Nora had a secret, a zinger she'd reveal to me after a night like no other , a night of “firsts”. (More...)

Touching Indians

When I was in kindergarten I wanted to be a hippie. Much to my chagrin, my mother didn't share that viewpoint and habitually dressed me in patent leather shoes, white gloves and pig tails so tight I looked like a Komodo dragon. More Jan Brady, less Janis Joplin. (More...)

Mr. Subtle

If brutal honesty were a disease, my husband would be considered terminal. He'd even be its poster boy. Concepts like tact, diplomacy and political correctness are foreign to him. (More...)

Running with the Scissor Sisters

I heard the laughter as soon as I stepped from the cab. It was muffled behind the man's well manicured hand, but I heard it all the same. And that little insecure voice in the back of my head whispered, “He's laughing at you!” I really should kill that voice one of these days. (More...)

Dog Training for Dummies

I have a confession to make; my dog is smarter than I am. Actually, she's the most intelligent member of our family. I'm certain that she secretly pines for more intellectual owners-perhaps someone with a MENSA membership or an MIT graduate. Basically, someone she can relate to. (More...)

Hairy Issues:
The Wiglet Chronicles

Girls Gone Wild. I'm not judging them. I remember my first drink too. The difference is, no one tried to turn my moments of poor judgment into a documentary. Those memories can remain embedded in my brain where they belong, along with the voices. Well, that's another story. (More...)