The 7th floor. It was a contradiction of space. At Presbyterian Hemby Children's Hospital, there are only 2 reasons you go to the 7th floor. The first is because you are excitedly awaiting news of the birth of a healthy, full term baby just one floor up. The other reason you go to the 7th floor is because you have a critically ill and very fragile baby in the NICU. In that one space, the shared waiting area, the emotions laid forth are almost bi-polar. On one couch sits a family with pink ... View the Post
Capturing December
I've been waiting since Thursday. For the call from Southern Living. Asking to feature my turkey on the cover of their next issue. Y'all, it looked really pretty. All that rosemary, garlic (doubled garlic=open window) and sage roasting in the oven made the turkey look very official. There were bumps in the road, it wasn't perfect by any measure. What the heck is savory? I looked for 5 minutes in the spice aisle (which by the way is home to the most unattractive names for food ever-tartar? ... View the Post
I’m goin’ in.
I blame Pinterest. Or Pioneer Woman. Southern Living magazine maybe. Either way, it was something else (not my normal good judgement) that at the last minute, caused me to abandon my plan as I stood in the frozen section of the grocery store last night. The intent for this year's Isolation Thanksgiving II was to perfect last year's turkey. After all, last year's plan worked (by worked, I mean that my turkey did not shrivel up a la Clark Griswold in National Lampoons Christmas Vacation). You ... View the Post
A Complaint. About Complainers.
I'd like to issue a small complaint. About complainers. If you've read this blog for very long, you know that I back away from doing public service announcements. I try not to post "Don't Do This" or "Things You Shouldn't Say" lists. Mostly because, ahem. I've done it or said it. Soap boxes are slippery that way. I've been insensitive. I've opened my mouth without thinking. I've uttered the completely wrong sentiment to someone who is going through something of which I have no understanding. ... View the Post
The Arch Enemy of Preemies
I was either stupid enough or brave enough to visit Target on a Saturday a few weeks ago. We needed baby food. And they have the widest variety. (Read: they have throw pillows and cute earrings). My mind was tired by the time I got to the checkout. Mentally trying to add up the contents of my cart in my head is hard work, yo. The checkout cashier was chatty, in the friendly man-she-really-likes-her-job kinda way. I liked her. It was refreshing. Until this: Chatty: "Wow, you have a lot of ... View the Post
The Date Jar
Hey, you. Yep, you-reading this post. The one who forgot to put on mascara today. The one who scored yesterday a success because you remembered to brush your kid's teeth. To you, who started isolation at the beginning of October and who hasn't left the house since. You know who you are-you choose your yoga pants each day by "the black ones" or "the faded black ones". And you, who may not have kids yet but you nonetheless, find yourself in the "Ground Hog Day" rut. To you, who saved your big ... View the Post
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