Most days, I forget that I’m not 25 anymore. I still feel 25.  I still feel like I should be in that carefree stage of my life where the world is my oyster and I have at least a decade to figure my shit out.

Sadly, I’m not 25 anymore. My current life of marriage, motherhood, career, home ownership, etc. requires a level of adulting that I was totally oblivious to at 25. Back then, I felt like I was ahead of the curve because I had a 401k. Today, I would gladly trade my 401k to be able to sleep like I did at 25.

Yesterday, a crew arrived at our front door at 7am on the dot to tear off our roof. At 25, it felt like getting a new roof was something your parents did. Turns out I was right, because almost immediately upon becoming parents, we needed a new roof. (Let’s do the time warp again…)

This morning, another crew arrived with a gigantic truck to haul all of the materials up onto the roof for the roofers. When I saw the truck out my living room window, my first thought was, “Hmm—the neighbors must be having some work done.” Maybe that’s just sleep deprivation talking, but it could also just be that I am currently acting as Senior VP of Adulting when in reality, my pay grade is more along the lines of Junior Adulting Clerk in Training most days.

On Monday, I’m taking Twix to the vet to have her teeth cleaned while Catch stays home to deal with the crew coming to tear our bathroom down to the studs. We’re moving in with my mom for a bit while all of that is happening. (It was either that or a Home Depot bucket with a toilet seat attached for a few weeks.) We’re hopeful that when we return to our house, there will no longer be two bathtubs in our back yard (long story) and I’ll finally have a shower I can shave my legs in.

In the meantime, my in-laws are occupying the guest room until Monday and I am nothing but grateful. Yes, I would have preferred to avoid their blatant racism as we relaxed in the back yard yesterday afternoon, but my MIL has been cooking our dinners and doing the laundry and my FIL cut and installed new molding for the guest room and has been dealing with the roofers. Most importantly, they’ve been occupying Charlotte so we have a bit of respite and heck if I haven’t reached a point in my life where I will trade 30 seconds of their racist commentary for a week of free babysitting. Like I said—this adulting business is totally above my pay grade and at this point, I will sell my soul for a bit of extra sleep.

I will leave you with the latest tidbit of happiness in our family. My parents just brought home a puppy, and she’s pretty much the cutest ball of fluff around. First her name was Emma, then it was Rory, and now it seems to be stuck at Penny. Meet Penny:

Define desperate?

My kid has a fever high enough that she’s delirious. My dog had a seizure earlier. I’m about one missed semicolon away from losing my job. My in laws are here. We have subterranean termites. Our brand new dishwasher is broken.

We haven’t had a break from shit like this since Thanksgiving. I am so tired. So frustrated. So in need of a vacation/hug/break/financial windfall.

I can’t anymore… but I have to. The sick little shivering radiator lying on my chest needs me to keep going.

There’s so much good in our lives. I’m trying to focus on that. I’m trying not to dwell on the bad stuff. I just… need there to be less bad stuff I guess.

I’m so fucking tired.

/self-pitying rant


Last week, Catch was picking Charlotte up from school, and a little girl asked her, “Does Charlotte have two moms?”

Just a few weeks prior to that, I emailed the school’s director because the camp enrollment forms had fields for “mother” and “father.” I told her it felt uncomfortable to have to put one of our names next to “father.”

There are some women who walk in our neighborhood often, and we run into them from time to time. They think I’m Charlotte’s mother and that Catch is my sister. We’ve never corrected them because their English isn’t great and they mostly just marvel at how fast Charlotte is growing, but someday, Charlotte’s going to catch on to those little lies of omission.

While we were out shopping with Charlotte the other day, Catch ran to the restroom briefly. When Charlotte realized she was gone, she started screaming, “LITTLE MAMA! I NEED LITTLE MAMA! WHERE’D LITTLE MAMA GO?!” People stared at me as if I was kidnapping her.

I get so lost in my little “yay, gay!” cocoon sometimes that these little moments when I’m reminded that we’re different from other families are jarring—like a static shock. You’re just going about your business and then zap!

I remember the time (years ago) when Catch and I were crossing the street after a sushi date and someone threw a full water bottle at us from their car window as they drove by and screamed, “Fucking dykes!” We weren’t even holding hands. We scurried away as fast as possible—heads down, not making eye contact with anyone around us. We were hurt and embarrassed…. And now I think, what if Charlotte had been there? How long will it be until she witnesses a scene like that? How long before she’s made fun of for having two moms? How long before some unenlightened parent at school won’t invite her to a birthday party or include her in a play date because of her two moms?

Because really, it’s only a matter of time. It’s not if… it’s when. No matter how far we’ve made it, there is still so far to go. I forget sometimes… until that familiar zap reminds me. I’ve had 20 years of practice having my heart broken by society because of who I love. (Wow—20 years. When did that happen?) Who will be the first to break my daughter’s heart?

More importantly, who will bail me out of jail when it happens?


Home Improvement

What do you do when you need to do two major home improvement projects, but you can only afford to do one of them?

You do them both anyway, of course!

In so many ways, Catch and I really balance each other out. Unfortunately, when it comes to spending large sums of money impulsively, we both kind of suck. It’s not often that we have large sums of money to spend, but this year we happened to get a significant tax return. Suddenly, visions of a remodeled bathroom danced in our heads, while visions of a roof that desperately needs to be replaced beat us over the head.

In the end, we crunched some numbers and decided to throw caution to the wind. In the battle of bathroom vs. roof, they both win. We’re celebrating the 10th anniversary of our marriage this year and we always said we’d go to Hawaii for this one. Instead, we’ve decided that we’ll get far more joy from a functional bathroom.

When we bought the house, we intended to do the bathroom ourselves (with the help of FIL), but the logistics of that would be damn near impossible. It’s our only bathroom, and the in laws would have to stay with us while the work is done, which means we’d have 5 people sharing a torn-up bathroom in a small house for too long. It’s a recipe for disaster. Also, if we did it ourselves, the scope of work would be more limited and we wouldn’t really get exactly what we want.

So, we’ve been interviewing contractors for the last month. It’s been… interesting. We’ve made great progress though, and we sign contracts with someone to do the bathroom tomorrow. On the roof front, we’re waiting for an update from one roofer, and once we have that we’ll be ready to roll.

In the meantime, we have been up to our eyeballs in bathroom planning bliss. It’s been a helpful distraction from losing our sweet Roly. It’s good to be busy and to have something to look forward to. On Saturday, we ditched the kid with my parents for a few hours and wandered aimlessly through bathroom fixture show rooms until we found the shower of our dreams. It was a splurge, but holy crap you guys—after 3 years of not even having the space to bend over in our shower, I am actually daydreaming about my first shower with the new stuff. Also—TWO SINKS. I do not understand WHY anyone put in a SIX FOOT LONG vanity with only one sink in a 3-bedroom house with a single bathroom, but it was stupid. Two days ago, I ordered our new bathtub, and while it’s not fancy or expensive, it will at least allow me to fill it with enough water to cover myself without having to shove a wash cloth into the overflow drain.

And the roof—well, it’ll just be nice not to have to worry about it anymore. It looks so ugly right now with its patches of missing shingles (it has 3-5 layers on it, so missing shingles don’t really mean exposed roof). Plus, all the grainy stuff blows/washes off in wind & rain, and it makes a huge mess of the yard. The new roof will be nicer color, more energy efficient AND environmentally friendly, so it’s a win all around.

So if you need me, you can probably find me on Pinterest obsessing over every last detail of our bathroom. Right now, this is the direction we’re headed in, but there are still a lot of variables to figure out!bathroom

Current bathroom (kinda–this is from the listing when we bought the house–it looks 3 years worse now.)



It’s my blog and I’ll swear if I want to

Fuck February.

Fuck March.

I’m done. Just done.

My dog died. The hard drive containing every single photo I’ve ever taken crashed and burned. No backup either because (insert long story here). Also, I got food poisoning so intense and horrible that I actually fainted in the bathroom, causing me to fall over onto Charlotte’s step stool and Elmo potty before hitting my head on the wall.

Do not come anywhere near me unless you are holding the cutest puppy ever and bearing wine. Lots of damn wine.

Also, at what point do you throw away your socks?