stick figure family

Breaking Up… with the Kids

The saddest thing, by far, about this relationship ending is that it hasn’t left just one hole.  It’s left three. TWD’s youngest accidentally took a pair of my jeans when flying home after the holidays.  There was some confusion with the laundry and well… teenagers are easily confused. I don’t actually care about the jeans…

plucking eyebrows

Just the Seven of Us…

Did I mention that TWD and I are going on another cruise?  Well, we are.  Only this time it’s going to be a bit different from last year’s trip to Bermuda. Firstly, I’m not worried about us breaking up this time.  (I was, admittedly, a bit concerned last summer—the longest we’d ever spent together was…

no-chocolate

Chocolate is (not) for sharing

I know that relationships are supposed to be love and sharing and all but sometimes I don’t want to share.  Especially when it comes to chocolate.  And especially when it comes to my boyfriend who thoroughly enjoys dark chocolate but never gets around to actually buying any of his own. For the past year and…

Star Wars Gingerbread

Too Cool for Apple Pie?

Sometimes I have a hard time remembering that The Wedding Date’s kids aren’t six-year old girls.  You know: the kind I teach on a regular basis?  The kind who love stories and stickers and the color pink?  The kind who think I’m cool and raise their hands in class to tell me they like my…

vintage pajamas

Soccer Mom PJs

A while back, we had a slight incident at The Wedding Date’s house.  His children were over, a door that should have been locked wasn’t and… well, without going into details I realized it was time to invest in some grown up pajamas. And this time I mean “grown up” in the maternal sense. I…

A Chink in the Armor

Today marks the start of the Philadelphia Writer’s Conference.  This means—amongst other things—that I will probably find myself in the throes of an existential crisis in approximately 24 hours.  I’ll likely decide to quit my day job (again), make plans to run off to Europe (again), and attempt—albeit subconsciously—to end my relationship with The Wedding…

Part 2: The Art of Sleeping Together with Kids

It’s 7:00am.  I should be in bed, snuggled up to The Wedding Date, but instead I’m standing barefoot in my parents’ garage in my pajamas, trying to clamber my way into the elevator so I can sneak upstairs and across the hall without being detected.  Why?  Well, let’s just say dating a man with kids…

Queen of the Whack-a-Mole

My plan, upon arriving at the arcade with The Wedding Date and his kids, is to kick butt.  This way they’ll know whose boss even if I did spend the past hour telling dumb blonde jokes. Unfortunately we start with one of those car racing video games.  I come in 8th out of 8th place…