Wintertime Defiance. Also I May Never Go to the Bathroom Undisturbed Again.


Ladies. The minute I lock my bathroom door, for any reason, it sends some sort of cosmic-call through the ether to my daughter, who proceeds to charge up the stairs and rattle the door-handle violently. There is no good response.

“MOM, what are you doing?”

If I am silent, she gives it approximately 2.5 seconds before deciding that I might be dead in there.

If I am vague and say something like “I’m just getting ready” she responds with “For what? Can I go? When are we leaving? Can we go to Target?”

If I say “I’m taking a bath” she plops herself down outside the door and proceeds to chat with me. The conversation usually veers toward lofty topics, like whether one might need a magnifying glass to see an ant’s poop.

If I say “I’m going to the bathroom” she erupts into laughter and starts howling “ARE YOU POOPING?” And after she calms down we end up having the same bath-time-through-the-door convos.

I thought that by the age of seven she might grant me undisturbed bathroom time. Time to reorganize my bath salts. To stare into the mirror. To sit on the floor and check Instagram. To take a shower without someone beating on the door to make sure I’m still alive and kicking. But no. It was not meant to be. I know one day I will cherish these moments, and miss her presence… but gosh golly ya’ll right now I’d just like five silent minutes to Clorox the shower door.

In other news, it’s wintertime. IT. IS. STILL. WINTER. I’m feeling defiant. I’m planting all the indoor plants. I’m wearing flip flops (inside only, of course, I don’t fancy black toes). And my sister gifted me with the loveliest new artwork for my Etsy Shop. She knows me. She really knows me. When we were exploring themes and inspiration she was like, “How about a witchy kitchen theme with herbs hanging and greens and lavenders.” UM OKAY. My own kitchen is decidedly not witchy-magical. It smells like old banana peels and there is currently a huge pile of Etsy shop stock that I need to sort and put away.

But Rachel’s vision was so much better. It usually is. I want to live in my Etsy banner. Just like Mary Poppins, jumping right in.

After a mid-winter break, my shop is back up and running. I’ve added a few new things, marked down a bunch of prices, and changed all items to free shipping (b/c shipping calculations are the pits for buyers and sellers). It’s all here and ready to go. 

In the meantime I’ll be defying winter by watering my plants, taking out banana peel trash, and dreaming of an undisturbed restroom experience.


Wintering On


There are several small things I’ve done this winter that have proven to be super successful. Did I win the lottery? No. Did I wash my hair more than once this week? I plead the fifth.

But hanging patio lights above the kitchen sink, ceding control of after-school snack time into Jane’s hands, and watching the Netflix show Fake or Fortune have all proven to be winning decisions.

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Do You Really Need That Cupcake? Thoughts On Winter Fatness and Peach Marshmallow Arms.


The other morning I woke up to a tousle of blonde hair in my face. Jane jumped on top of me and gave me an aggressive hug. I choked a little and removed a hair from my mouth, but I always welcome hugs, no matter how many side injuries may occur. Let’s face it. I’m the mother of a daughter. Those goodwill hugs will someday be replaced with eye rolls, so I soak it all in.

I hugged her and said good morning.

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