NOT OTHERWISE SPECIFIED
A quick update for readers:
I’m teaching a virtual workshop next Wednesday called “Where’s the humor in it?”— for anyone who’d like to stop taking things quite as seriously for a hot second. We’ll be learning tricks for making space in tired, old narratives (or any story), and trying it all out together in little, fun, approachable exercises. You do not need to be a writer to do this. If this sounds like something you’d be interested in (Wednesday 3/29 3-5pm via Zoom), sign up here. If you like the idea but you can’t make that time or would prefer to do it on your own, let me know within this form and I will make a recorded version available. The class runs only if it fills, and I have some great folks signed up already— I’d love for you to get to work together, so please join us! I’ll need to make the call on Tuesday, so you only have a few days left to sign up!
(And now back to your regularly scheduled programming.)
This morning, my kids found four hard-boiled eggs on the counter and took them upstairs and peeled and crumbled them over their bedroom carpet.
Last night, the first night ever of wearing underwear to bed, after four months waking up dry every morning with a pull-up on, one of them peed the bed.
A few days ago one of them said “I wrote TWO Mamas!” and ran off into the other room with a ballpoint pen. I found my “name” (a series of zig-zags, which are the letter M) across the side of the TV stand.
Last week one of them began opening and climbing the refrigerator shelves to retrieve and disappear with the maple syrup container.