Childhood is filled with risk.  Every.  Damn.  Second. And it is all exhilarating, whether it be taking your first steps, going to school for the first time, or jumping off the highest jungle gym ever. As you navigate through the murky waters of adolescence, you begin to appreciate that part of risk is the chance that you will lose.  You will fall flat on your face and it will hurt.  But still you are filled with that spirit of invincibility that makes it possible to try out for the team, to fall in love with someone who might not love you back, to apply to college, to live on your own for the first time. As adults, the only acceptable use of risk is in a discussion with your investment advisor about midcaps versus foreign funds.  And that is not cowardice or complacency.  That is just reality.  You have a mortgage, a job, children, sick parents, tuition payments. Risk is dangerous. But every now and then, a beautiful risk presents itself. And I am so proud of Billy for taking it.  A chance to step away from the soft security of routine and embrace the exhilaration again.  A chance to work with two unbelievably creative, fun and brilliant friends (well, three if you count your part-time wife) doing unbelievably creative, fun, brilliant things.   A chance to spend more time with us.   A chance so perfect that it isn’t actually a risk at all. Congratulations Billy. Welcome to the first day of the rest of your life…

Snow that is.

Growing up in coastal Virginia was hard if you like cold and snow.  Inevitably every time a snowstorm came anywhere near, a magic force field would go up around Tidewater, thus causing us to get only rain while the rest of the East Coast got 8 inches. I probably should have moved to Minnesota but I’m a Virginia girl at heart.

When Jack was three, we had a humdinger of a snowstorm.  Around here, we call it a once in a lifetime storm.  Because it will literally only happen once in your lifetime.  Twice if you’re lucky.  The following year, he asked me when the snow was coming.  And like a true native of southern Virginia, I cocked my head and sympathetically said “oh honey, we probably won’t get snow for another 5 years.”  Damned if we didn’t get snow that year too.  And the year after that.  And the year after that.  So now my boys have a completely distorted opinion of winters in a coastal town. Read more...

10. If it’s really the happiest place on earth, why wasn’t Prince Charming standing by my bed every damn morning with a giant cup of Starbucks? Seriously, I have written a note to Disney with this suggestion.  The lack of good coffee in this place is ASTOUNDING.  You want parents to be happy right?  Happy parents do not blink at the prospect of standing in line for 40 minutes to ride Space Mountain.  Again.  Happy parents do not grumble when asked for a $9 bottle of water.  Happy parents buy more overpriced souvenirs for their children.  Just sayin’… Read more...

 

In ten years, we’ve gone from this to this. So on our 10th anniversary, we decided that we wanted to celebrate not by going away, but by being together. Because there is no us without them.

So we took our little bow tie guys to their first fancy schmancy dinner and had a ball. True, we are celebrating a day late because poor Billy was sick yesterday but it’s not the day that matters – it’s the 3,649 other days that we have shared together…

10. There is not enough Nutella in the world to make things okay when there are 4 inches of sewage water in your bathroom and mudroom. For the 5th damn time.

9. Everyone who said I’d get used to, even enjoy, having Jack at school all day was wrong. It still sucks.

8. There is incredible freedom in having both of your beloved sports teams in the gutter. Once you stop throwing things at the television.

7. Bad things happen to people we love. To us. But the silver lining is that when the chips are down, you find out who your true friends are. The ones who know everything about you, who don’t even see your faults, and would actually walk through fire for you. And the gift of that kind of love is irreplaceable. Read more...

2 years ago we realized that writing letters to Santa early was futile because the boys always came up with new requests the week before Christmas. So now we just wait until the last minute. Which inevitably leads to frantic last minute orders for things like “a New York Giants Santa hat” and “a Dolphins football.”  What. The Fuck.  Okay, the Giants hat I can get behind, although why it has to be a Santa hat is beyond me.  But the Dolphins ball?  No one in my house is, or ever has been, a Dolphins fan.  INCLUDING WILL.  So it is categorically unfair to request such an item approximately 3 days before Christmas. Read more...

There’s nothing I dread more than the first day of school eve. And none more so than today. Tomorrow my chicken nugget starts first grade. For the last 6 years, he has been my best friend, my faithful companion on a gazillion adventures, and the source of my happy heart.

Because of him, I know more about the feeding habits and indigenous habitats of 33 species of sharks than I thought possible (seriously, try me – I will school you).

Because of him, I have rediscovered the utter joy of everything – digging giant holes in the sand, visiting every museum, zoo and aquarium we can find, swinging too high on the swings, learning everything you can about everything – Every. Single. Thing. – you see, playing football in the backyard, reading 100 books in bed every night, and sitting on a dock watching the fish jump. He has made me a smarter, better, and happier person. Read more...

Let’s say you’ve had a crappy day. Let’s say you dealt with your second toilet explosion and 2 inches of standing water and…other stuff in your bathroom and mudroom in less than a week.  Let’s say your husband is out of town for the third straight week.  Let’s say you’re allergic to alcohol.

What do you do? You certainly don’t give a rat’s ass that it’s bathing suit season and you down 3 of these in 5 minutes.

Nutella – it’s what’s for dinner. Read more...

Goodnight 6127 Rolfe. We bought you as newlyweds, giddy at the thought of trading in our postage stamp DC patio for a real yard, but sure we would be out in 3 years. Instead, we stayed 9.

We celebrated so much here. We brought our babies home to you. We learned how to creep ninja-like around your creaky 80-year-old floorboards to avoid waking them. We watched them take their first steps, say their first words, and many other milestones in your four walls. We made all of our important decisions in your backyard. Our neighbors became our friends, as we stood in the street every afternoon watching our Rolfe Ave posse play. We loved all the things that gave you character, even if we complained about them. Read more...