Our boy Vince is like a bomb. Between catching himself on fire while making fajitas and getting called out by his ‘inner dickhead’ daughter, the dinner table was a ticking time bomb. Will he explode or laugh it off? Dive into the fire, the silence, and the ‘light emotional damage’ that builds resiliency.”

It started with Evie—Patient Zero—who licks handrails like a Michelin Star Inspector of metal pipes. Before I knew it, the ‘Lost Week’ between Christmas and New Year’s turned into a scene from Outbreak. Between the sickness fluids, a husband ‘auditioning’ for patient status, and my own Type A refusal to sit down, I realized something: the only thing harder than being sick is being the Mom everyone else depends on.

You shouldn’t know where someone is 24/7—that’s borderline restraining-order energy. I’m pitching a new reality show: no technology, no preplanned dates, just straight notes mailed through the USPS. Because there’s something about a tear-stained doodle in the margins that a text just can’t touch.

What is it about some older women that compels them into sly mom shaming? I recently received the full-force blast of granny passive aggression. From my dog in the car to my daughter’s hair, it was a masterclass in ‘dick’ behavior disguised as conversation.

Decorating isn’t exactly my spiritual gift, especially when my kids treat the living room like a gymnasium. After two ceramic lamps met a slow-motion death, I had to decide: do I want a museum or a home where my kids feel free to be themselves? Here’s why my parenting style is choosing memories over mood lighting.

I used to think the teenage ’emotional rollercoaster’ was an exaggeration—until I lived it. From crying in my minivan after HOCO pictures to unexpected office snuggles, this is the reality of raising a teenage girl. It’s a wild ride of rejection, comparison, and deep love.