Mommy Blogger The Day I Held The Pep Boys Manager Hostage In My Car

The Geeks Shall Inherit the Earth

Mommy Blogging: It's not Just Unicorns and Roses

It’s Not The Chicken Pox But Rather A Hex
It’s not the chicken pox, but now Jane’s running a fever. I got the most depressing news of all at the doctor’s office, and after it hits the papers (soon sadly) I’ll share it with you. Anyhow, it’s either a rash from virus or a reaction to the Azithromycin that I took this weekend. Either way, my stomach looks revolting… and not just because I’ve had kids. Cross your fingers that Alexander doesn’t get it too. Related items There’s A Rat In The House

A Pox On My House
The fucking chicken pox. I think I have them, only I had them in 1987. And I cried then too. Related items Genetic Testing for BRCA1 and BRCA2: It’s My Choice Honest Men Are Good Men There’s A Rat In The House Vision and Dental and Healthcare Oh My!

First I Was A Wilzig
Recently I was contacted by the UNHCR (The United Nations Refugee Agency), they would like to reach my audience. It’s been a week, and I’ve been trying to think of how I would tackle this subject. Because it’s close to my heart and I’m fearful of editing myself too much, I’m just going to write today and immediately hit publish. Before I married a Gottlieb, I was a Wilzig. We’re not a big family, and we’re not really a close family, but distance will do that to you. You see, my family fled Nazi Germany. Well, the family that was able to flee. What happens when you are part of a refugee family is very different. Not every part

I Looked At Her And Now She’s A Tween
Maybe it’s the school uniform, maybe it’s the general sportiness of my daughter, but she’s never looked older than her years. She walked past me a moment ago with her hair a tangled mane of brown with streaks of blonde from the sun, a tank top and pajama pants on. She looks fifteen, the most beautiful, striking teenage look of them all. Her cheeks are still full with the look of early childhood, but her eyes are deeper set and her nose is defined. My daughter stopped being cute, and she is transforming into a beauty. It happened overnight. The world is an easier place when you are beautiful, but still it is more complicated. I’m

Because I Have No Self Control: I Scratch My Crotch
Whenever I get a little too much sun, a cold or overtired I get a blister on my lip. I like to call it a blister, but sadly the rest of the world calls it Herpes. Gah. So I have this amazing Doctor and I run in sobbing, “My lip is going to explode,” and before I have the sentence complete they’re handing me samples of Valtrex. This is a miracle, I can feel the burning and the lump under the skin slow down within the first few hours, and I’ve got a day’s worth so I can amble into the pharmacy for a refill whenever it suits me. That was the plan anyhow. The plan was not for my son to spike a fever Wednesday night. When my son