Nate is at least six good months into his “Whaboutif Phase.” Meaning that every day, most conversations involve him venturing further and further into imaginative what-if scenarios and preposterous proposals. He asks things like: “Whaboutif you had three eyeballs?” “Whaboutif it flew into the sky and then hit the moon and then crashed into…
Years and years ago, back when James and I first got married, we dreamed of one day moving to San Luis Obispo and building a Spanish-style house. We envisioned a beautiful view and room to entertain and we called it Casi Cielo… “Almost Heaven” in Spanish. But then we found…
It’s a bit of a seven year saga that I’m not really in the mood to rehash… but long story short, Jacob has what is called sugar sensitivity. In a nutshell, his blood sugar is highly volatile and what he eats tips his biochemistry out of whack, wreaking havoc with his emotions…
The first week I came down to Los Osos was really lonely. Just me and Hot Lava. Hot Lava isn’t much of a conversationalist. I think it was only four days, but for some reason it felt really long. My evenings were really just a blur of Friday Night…
It’s Day 59 of The Great Move of Two-Thousand and Sixteen. Those last numbers appear to represent the number of boxes we continue to pack and unpack and repack with our earthly possessions. As of today, our belongings are in San Jose, in a POD somewhere in the Bay Area,…
22 o’ June, 2016 Me Dear Tooth Fairy, ‘Tis been donkey’s years since we saw each other at de Fairy, Leprechaun an’ Human Relations Conference. ‘ope we cross paths again soon! Oi wanted ter warn yer aboyt a wee 7-year-auld fella named Jacob, as Ah’ve ‘eard through de shamrocks you’ve been visitin’ ‘imself quite…
This story is a little delayed, but I have a decent excuse, which I’ll get around to sometime soon… here’s a little ditty that gave me a chuckle: It’s mid-May and the boys are both way overdue for a haircut. We’ve been so wrapped-up with tee-ball and baseball and myriad…
A few weeks back, Jakey and I were laying in my bed discussing the events of the day. I’m pretty sure it was the night after we were rescued by the surly black tie movers. Somehow we start talking about jobs I could never do… “I always thought long-distance truck driver…
I always thought there were five stages of grief, though a quick search reveals they’ve upped it to seven. I subscribe to the art of simplification so I guess I’m slightly partial to the traditional five: denial and isolation, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance… assuming one can favor one model of…
So if you’ve been keeping up with me, you know I have one non-denominational son, and one Jewish son. Well, he identifies himself as Jewish, not sure if he’s cleared it with Rabbi? In any case, we got a friendly little Yahoo groups reminder last Sunday that Nathaniel was expected to…