A heaping pile of steaming good

A friend recently asked what I really wanted this Christmas. And the words that came out of my mouth (narrowly edging out “anything from Bottega Veneta”) were: “A heaping pile of steaming goodness.” I mean it. And if you’ve seen Bottega Veneta’s spring line, you’ll know I must REALLY want goodness because those designer duds…

Snuggie at the ready

I’m venturing into a virtual minefield with this post. Into a veritable hotbed of opinions. The battle lines drawn around this topic will make my last post on women’s rights look positively demure. We’re about to delve into kitschy culture. Coming soon to a television near you is—gasp—the Hallmark Channel’s Christmas movie lineup. I’m not…

If we were having Christmas coffee

If we were having a pre-holiday coffee by the fire, first I’d applaud us because—who has time to have Christmas coffee?! In the mad rush of cookies, cards, presents, parties, I’d be happy we were taking a few quiet moments for ourselves. With our Santa hats on, feet by the fire, I’d first share my…

And so we heal

I grew up as one of the lucky ones. The youngest of six daughters in a house with paper thin walls. I grew up with curlers in the bathroom, a bevy of family birthday celebrations, a closetful of dress-up shoes to choose from when I wanted to play Nancy Drew or Charlie’s Angels. I was…

A mama’s Christmas arsenal

I hugged my son, long and hard, as his shoulders heaved and he let out the emotions that had roiled just below the surface all day. His sobs brought tears to my eyes and I held him so tightly, willing the pain to go away. And yet, I know, pain has a purpose. But, that…

“Mewwy Kwiffmuff”

I heard her before I saw her in the crowded store. “Man, those chips look good! I think I need to get me some of those,” she exclaimed. My son had just thrown a bag of Tostitos Scoops into our cart, an item I had forgotten but needed for a dip I was making. We…

Christmas rebels

All hail the quiet rabble rousers. A purposeful oxymoron, yes. Christmas has become a cottage industry. Have you noticed? (And yes, that rhetorical question drips with sarcasm.) A few of us have. Or so it seems, this year. I am not feeling anti-Christmas or missing the magic. The birth of Jesus Christ, whether you believe…

When lighting a candle . . .

. . . it is best to make a wish. Or so my mother told me. So when I found myself on Christmas Eve, in single-digit weather, lighting hundreds of candles lining my street, I had a wealth of wishes. I decided not to be greedy. As I lit the luminaries in front of each…

These aren’t the presents I asked for

My son told me I should ask for a certain something for Christmas. That’s when it hit me. No one asks me what I want for Christmas anymore. When I was little, my parents did. When married, my husband did. Now, middle aged and divorced with deceased parents and young kids—no one asks. While I’d…

Jordache jeans, make me a woman. Please.

I did not have “the look.” But I knew I wanted it. The particular look in question was not explicitly spelled out in the early 1980s Jordache jeans commercial that started my frenzy of confusing “want” with “need.” Let’s just say it involved multiple women in some odd tube-top outfits carrying what looked like the…

Christmas accomplished

I have a beef with the whole holiday hoopla. A beef I might not normally share but since I have the luxury of a platform (this blog) and an entire large container of Costco peppermint bark next to me, why not? Grab a cuppa’ and join me. I blame TJ Maxx. (Ok, Marshalls and HomeGoods…