Um. My kid is building a "confession room" in his Lego police station. He's four.

Sometimes the best part about camping is the part where you stop camping.

I just found a snail! Kids, meet your new pet, Slowy.

Wearing an apron, serving peanut-butter and jelly sandwiches, standing on the front porch, threatening squirrels with a pair of scissors.

Can't ask people to "do me a solid" any more. Been potty-training children too long.

Fine. You take sexy. I'm bringing back housecoats.

How is it possible to love them this much yet still want to leave them curbside for gypsy pickup?

The trick to at-home haircolor is to choose a shade that matches your bathroom. And bath towels. And bath mat.

If I wrote a parenting book chapters 1-5 would fall under the section Teaching Them To Use The DVD Player Unassisted.

Well, he can drag me camping, but he can't stop me from sitting under a tree with my podcasts and my knitting.

Let's try some of this here "Beer Medicine."

Playing a little game I like to call Xtreme Bill Pay.

The dark side of homemaking is feeling like you don't have a dark side any more.

Look, I told you from the beginning I was a flake.

... Ohmigod, I forgot to tell you that, didn't I.

PMS threat level: Fluffy, fluffy kitten. Which is what I might buy to mop up these tears.

We got there and Mother Nature was all "I will cut a bitch. And also give a bitch a weird rash and some bug bites and a sunburn."

I've got a coffee cake in the oven. I'd need AT LEAST 200 characters to adequately convey how goddamn good it smells.

I know some people get into homemaking because of the money, or the drugs, or the ironing. But I have to tell you it's not that glamorous.

Went to mall, where we were on an extended air conditioning poaching mission. One day my kids will realize you can buy things there, too.

Woke for the day at 5:30 a.m., rested and mostly refreshed. Suspect fatal disease. Looking for thermometer.