Category: Parenthood

I Don’t Even Know What to Title This One

Friday night is usually movie and pizza night for the family, unless T. and I have plans. This week, we were supposed to go out to dinner with friends for my birthday. (44. My God. But that is a post for another day.) Instead, the weather interfered and we stayed home and watched documentaries (Muscle Shoals and History of the… Read more →

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More Fun at the Dinner Table (Or, “Why I Drink”)

You may remember a while back when I wrote about that time I talked to my 6th grader about strip clubs over dinner. It’s always something at the dinner table. So, tonight, I came home after a canceled therapy appointment. Thank you therapist, for canceling after I’ve already driven from my office in Cumming all the way down 400 and around… Read more →

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And So We’re Told This is the Golden Age

I often have grand ideas about end of year posts, New Year’s posts, the marking of the passage of time, and what it all means. This isn’t one of those posts. I stayed up until 3 am with friends. I slept late in a bed fit for a queen. I awakened to coffee and bacon, and no hangover. I visited… Read more →

That Time I Tried to Explain Strip Clubs to My Sixth Grader Over Dinner

I know I already posted the snake thing, but this requires it’s own discussion, because kids starting middle school is like some kind of hyperspace/warp speed shit. . . all of a sudden all this kind of serious stuff starts whipping by and it’s all a blur. Dinner table subjects tonight included: – How babies are made – Sperm (with… Read more →

The Bear Went Over the Mountain

It has all come full circle. I have become my parents.   Tonight we watched Forrest Gump with the kids. I do not recommend this movie for 8 and 11-year-olds. Sure, Forrest is sweet, but bullying, child abuse, racism, war, death, amputation, implied nudity, sex, drugs, cancer, AIDs. This is not a kid’s movie. We watched it anyway. We had… Read more →

Riding the Roller Coaster with Steve Martin

First of all, 15 hour days completely suck ass. Especially when you are completely worn out, fighting a cold that won’t die, and with the specter of strep throat haunting your future. The last thing you want to do? Go to an elementary school talent show. You’d rather have that torture guy from Game of Thrones cut off a pinkie finger or two. Read more →