A face only a fellow male meower could love?
Normally, all the wackadoodle stuff happens in Florida, but this one is out of Nigeria.
According to a story in The Advocate, a woman down there got rid of her cat because he was gay.
How, exactly, did she know his sexual orientation?
Why he exhibited “an unnatural sexual behavior,” of course. Basically, he wasn’t getting it on with the other female kitties in the house. And the only logical explanation for not channeling his inner rabbit was that he had to be gay. Continue reading
For several months, I slept down the hall. The bed was firmer, and more comfortable, and I could have a restful night’s sleep without R rolling around next to me.
This separate sleeping lasted about three months — and I was pregnant and needed space to … marinate. Many couples sleep that way regularly and they swear it’s better for their marriage.
The alone time allows them to catch up on sleep and focus on hobbies — reading, playing the guitar, watching TV — the other isn’t into, says one Oregon couple in a story on this morning’s GMA.
One marriage and family therapist estimates more than half — yup, more than 50 percent — of couples have separate sleeping quarters.
Right after C was born I was back in our room, and probably won’t leave again till life — again surgery, pregnancy, sickness — necessitates.
Having a baby changed so much, including how I view many people in my life. I have a greater appreciation, and understanding, for those close to me (and a certain profession).
Nurses: Specifically, Emily Ilowit at St. Peters’ labor and delivery unit. She was, in a word, amazing. As my sister (who was in the delivery room) said “whatever they pay doctors, nurses should make four times as much.”
She’s right. Continue reading
When I bought my Louis Vuitton Speedy 35 it was a big deal — to me and to readers.
So worth the investment.
Then I had a baby.
And my Louis was replaced by this: Continue reading
After giving birth to Little C, I took a six-week hiatus from social media. Not a choice, but a requirement due to disability/maternity leave. At first, I thought I’d feel cut off from the world of news, pop culture and rambling status updates.
Plus, six weeks with no platform for my wry observations and (sometimes unpopular) opinions?! Oh no.
It was far more tolerable than I anticipated, although I realized a few things: (more …)
I’m addicted to Pottery Barn the way some people are obsessed with chocolate, or John Deere. When I see the PB in Crossgates has changed their display for the season, my heart races knowing that means the sale section will be robust.
Our decor is, predominantly, Pottery Barn (and, these days, PB Baby/Kids) so when we needed a sectional-type sofa for the media room, that’s where I turned. On delivery day, it snowed — hard. We’d gotten a good eight inches with several more predicted. R wasn’t home, and our road — and driveway — hadn’t been plowed.
When the delivery guys tried to get up our road, they got stuck, and called me to share their predicament. Continue reading
I always hated when, as a kid, my mom would lick her thumb and wipe my face.
“Ew, that is so gross,” I’d cry, while swatting her hand away. “I’ll never do that to my kids.”
Unfortunately, it took all of a week for me to do just that, and plenty of other “nevers,” such as: Continue reading
As R trekked to the car with
the loot we’d plucked from the hospital my bags, I got dressed.
Despite heavy, labor-inducing pitocin that had my legs looking a bit like Gwenyth Paltrow’s character in “Shallow Hal,” my jeans buttoned.
Take that doctor-who-suggested-I-was-gaining-too-quick-during-pregnancy.
Or not. Continue reading