Tag Archives: writing

I Swore I’d Never Do This

Here’s the deal. I work in PR before coming home to wow you all as a mommy blogger.

Most of you (with the exception of a few former-agency friends *waves at Edelman*) have absolutely no idea what I do. This includes the people who raised me, married me, and the vast majority of people who currently work with me. Continue reading

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Distribution Dinosaur


Today I, an exceptional maternal unit to a dual masculine birth, announce that in order to mesh proactive deliverables and evolve interactive channels we provided best-in-class value-added Mexican style sustenance for integrated cross-family enterprise nutritional infrastructure prior to iterating scalable solutions in the nocturnal timeframe via Jurassic terrestrial vertebrates lizard literature.

This is the type of mouthful found in most corporate press releases. Continue reading

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A World of Pure Imagination

As a matter of routine, the muppets and I ventured forth to Target last night. We had a list of items we needed on our errands. We meandered down the office aisles to pick up some CDs so we can share the latest brilliant Keary Dee captured images of our family with the muppets’ adoring masses.

I looked down and saw a Mickey Mouse themed hardcover notebook calling to me from the impulse buy aisle end. Continue reading


To Do It All

When the muppets first started eating rice cereal, we discovered tiny bites were key. (And then we discovered the key to a successful mealtime was anything other than rice cereal.) A heaping spoonful was just to big for their little mouths to neatly handle.

Try not to bite off more than you can chew. This is a lesson I often teach myself. Take, for example, the Pizookie at BJ’s Restaurant. It is a small dish of fresh-out-of-the-oven giant chocolate chip cookie topped with a mountain of melting vanilla bean ice cream. (The no-dessert Lenten promise has me dreaming of sugar plum fairies and triple scoop brownie sundaes.) It is so delicious that you crave an entire serving unto yourself. And then you don’t feel so good…

A perfect metaphor for life, really.

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