He’s cute, isn’t he?? He’s also huge. Most people are scared of him, but he’s just a big baby. However — and this theory hasn’t been tested — I bet he’d rip someone apart if they tried to mess with any of us.
I have quite a few controversial opinions, but I don’t think any of them will bother people more than what I’m about to say. I’ve learned a thing or two, though, so hear me out.
I am not a “pet person.” My daughters are the only reason we got a dog. I think animals are dirty, messy…
That’s right! Don’t miss this too-good-to-be-true opportunity. Rich Idiots With Degrees is hiring one lucky content writer. Must be able to produce five mind-numbingly typical yet life-altering articles a week. Content must also be the most thorough, well-researched, creative, and SEO-driven piece on the web.
Pay is competitive, which sounds great, but we barely pay per word, so we certainly won’t pay you for your time. You’re not worthy of that. You’re just a writer, and that means you aren’t intelligent enough to hold a real job.
Company offers enormous benefits (for us, not you). You get one benefit. We…
It is, hands down, the #1 thing I hear. “Nine kids? You’re a SuperMom. I don’t know how you do it.”
This would stress most superheroes out. Superpowers are supposed to be hidden from the general populace. Discovery requires starting over in a new town or helping such observers meet an untimely death. I guess it depends on what kind of superhero you are.
Lucky for you, I’m relieved when people notice. Most SuperMoms are. It means we haven’t completely lost our powers. Believe me, it’s a fight to maintain even a fraction of it.
Why? Kids are our kryptonite…
I know you have no reason to care about my opinion. I’m a random person typing out my thoughts just like everyone else. I’m not here to convert, shame, justify, or insult. I’m also not going to apologize for what the Bible (actually) says.
I’m asking you to hear me out anyway.
This past year has brought out the ugly in us all. These things have been stewing underneath, just waiting for an opportunity to ooze out. Politics, fear, and unrest is the perfect breeding ground for the infection to fester, and now we see the nasty results.
It’s funny how a fistful of Benjamins makes everyone a financial expert. I mean, it would be the same advice I’d hear from my financial advisor if I had one, but I don’t, so I can ignore it. You can, too, with these very sound arguments I’m about to gift you with. If anyone tries to tell you to use your bribe wisely, just pick one, or all, of these quick comebacks.
“You’re not my mom; you can’t tell me what do do.”
There’s nothing anyone can say to this. Partly because the immaturity will stun them, but who cares…
“ParEnTinG cHanGEs YoU.” It’s a popular thing to say despite the overwhelming obviousness of it. Of course parenting changes you. You can’t have another human (painfully) leave your body without being altered by the experience. You can’t watch life enter the world without feeling the impact of the role you played.
And that’s just the beginning because, as we all know, it is entirely possible to walk away afterward and pretend nothing happened. It’s only life-changing if you allow it to be; otherwise, it’s an inconvenience.
Real parenting is when the knowledge weaves itself into your cells, forging new feelings…
“Tyranny of the urgent” doesn’t have to be a thing.
I’ll start by being honest: I’m writing this for myself. I struggle to implement any sort of plan to keep chaos at bay. My life is one fire after another. I have ideas, but I also have nine kids. I have to be realistic. Most of my life will probably consist of putting out fires. Big ones. Admittedly, I also lack certain managerial skills, so “staying on top of things” might be a pipe dream. That’s probably my main problem.
If you spend any time at all feeling like you…
It had been a long time since I’d read a Calvin and Hobbes book, but the other day I stumbled across a dusty copy of Homicidal Psycho Jungle Cat, part of the epic collection by Bill Watterson. My kids wanted me to read it, so we started flipping through the pages.
The pictures entertained them for a little bit, but most of the humor went over their heads. I, however, could spend days posting Calvin’s quotes on Facebook and Twitter.
Some thoughts came to me as I laughed through Calvin’s antics. …
My husband has suffered from chronic migraines since puberty- a bonus to an already exciting time. Doctors handed out every possible prescription to prevent or, at the very least, minimize the disabling headaches. Some would seem to work for a time; others didn’t help at all. Most had life-altering side effects (for the worse). This trial and error method grew too costly, taking more time and money than we had. He decided to find his own answers (something he was already doing) and began to research anything and everything that could provide even a little relief.
Diet, exercise, and sleep…
No sick days for us
I’m making my boss give me sick days. And by boss, I mean me.
This decision came to me today through a pounding headache. I made dinner, thinking about how nice it would be to sit and chill since the medicine wasn’t helping. Staying busy provided a little relief since it kept my mind off the throbbing. Otherwise, I would’ve plopped my butt on the couch and told everyone to fend for themselves (don’t worry, they’re old enough to do that). Maybe. But only if it was awful, and only as a last resort.
Wife and mom first. Homeschooling, Muay Thai, freelance writing, and blogging for The Zoo I Call Home fills in the rest.