Notes from the Blue House

Sometimes you find yourself in a jam. A total pickle. Well, this weekend I found myself screwed blued and tattooed (as my dad would say). I'd been so looking forward to a weekend away with both of my sisters-in-law and a bunch of their girlfriends. We'd been planning for months to cross the border into Buffalo and shop like zombies at 3am to score Black Friday deals. We shopped for about 33 straight hours. We shopped until every inch of our bodies ached and begged us for rest. We shopped until we couldn't stand our own griminess another minute and just had to go back to the hotel to shower. We were shopping machines. After unloading the van, I stood among bags and bags and bags of stuff and thought "Gee...wonder why people complain that we're losing the spirit of Christmas in all our stuff".  I silently vowed to buy some toys and clothes to give to local charities to ease some of the guilt I'd be carrying home with all my shopping bags. After an amazing ...

Sometimes it seems that I tuck my sweet, good natured preschooler into bed and then wake up to find a mouthy, defensive and sullen teenager has replaced him overnight. This strange phenomena has been happening more often over the past few weeks and I'd be willing to bet that it's got something to do with my parents absence. You see, my mom ,in particular, has always been a very regular presence in Owen's little world. Now that my parents have been stranded in N.Ireland thanks to my Dad's busted ankle, I wonder if Owen's been a bit rattled by the hole they've left behind here. No more "Fridays with Nana". Those days are kind of like "Tuesdays with Morrie" but with less soul-searching and more junk food. Thankfully, these meltdowns aren't a daily occurrence. But when they happen-watch out. I'm talking screaming, fist pounding and foot stomping. I'm talking red-faced, teary-eyed and out of breath, this stuff is not for pansies. I thi...