Tag Archives: Christmas

Bacon and Tears

Bacon and Tears

After today, I can add “have a good cry over a piece of bacon” to my life experiences. I’ve been holding in my emotions for the past few days, willing myself to NOT make eye contact with the ghost of Christmas past. The smiling, always up to mischief face of my father, who took greatRead More

Fa-la-la-la-Lysol: The viruses that (almost) stole Christmas

Fa-la-la-la-Lysol: The viruses that (almost) stole Christmas

“Run the bathwater. She’s puking again.” Not quite the way I envisioned our Christmas morning to end. Santa had come, the gifts had been opened. Breakfast consumed. Our toddler just got over a five-day stomach bug of doom four days ago, and I was ready for the Lysol/non-stop laundry days to be over. But onceRead More

No, Virginia, there isn’t a Santa Claus.

No, Virginia, there isn’t a Santa Claus.

WARNING: YOU PROBABLY DON’T WANT YOUR CHILDREN UNDER 10 READING THIS IF THEY’RE STILL FANS OF THE MAN IN RED. If there’s one thing I admire about parents, it’s their refusal to “parent by default.” That is, they take a stand for something, anything, and give it their best shot to not let society trampleRead More

Miss Paula’s Gingerbread House: 20 Years in the Making

Miss Paula’s Gingerbread House: 20 Years in the Making

When I was nine or so, I happened upon a booth at our local Fall Festival, one that displayed delicious, artistic Gingerbread houses. I was mesmerized. Miss Paula, the master gingerbread architect, was a familiar face seen at my church, my school, and even taking our softball team pictures in the summer. So, I felt completelyRead More

Will You Make Him Room?

Will You Make Him Room?

I know some dismiss blogging as a “silly hobby” or perhaps a strange obsession, but for me, it’s now a way of life. Not only that, but it’s connected me to some amazing people, who I never would have met otherwise. (Well, I might have, but it’s a long shot.) One particular connection I’ve madeRead More

I just want to buy her the stupid Cinderella dress.

I just want to buy her the stupid Cinderella dress.

“I want a Red Ryder carbine action two-hundred shot range model air rifle. Oooooooh!” Now, instead of a round-faced spectacled young boy, picture a curly-haired, green-eyed young girl saying: “I want a Cinderella dress that lights up with a Cinderella ring and a Cinderella salon. Oooooooh!” With Ralphie-like enthusiasm, my preschooler knows what she wantsRead More