tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-65162067083434817422012-02-06T21:30:29.041-05:00Outgunned.Mollynoreply@blogger.comBlogger2711100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6516206708343481742.post-3636024741937779342010-02-26T10:58:00.003-05:002010-02-26T11:21:47.443-05:00

I almost feel normal again.It's a new normal though, not the normal that I felt slightly more than two weeks ago, when my biggest worry was why the hell hasn't Dan's W2 from his last job come yet, when words like glioblastoma multiforme and chemotherapy and DCA weren't part of my vocabulary. But I have whole blocks of minutes where my stepfather's diagnosis of inoperable and incurable cancer

Mollynoreply@blogger.com36tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6516206708343481742.post-36353904430552226062010-02-15T19:30:00.004-05:002010-02-15T21:04:05.592-05:00

Dan and I, when we lived in D.C., used to have these conversations about what do we do when something happens to our parents, when they can't be alone anymore, when we have to bring them here to live? How do we manage a critically ill parent? And our lives? And our kids? You don't think about the fact that that conversation has almost nothing to do with what actually is about to come crashing

Mollynoreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6516206708343481742.post-2293153439401204952009-06-16T19:49:00.003-04:002009-06-16T22:03:43.037-04:00

Hand to God, I am often the stupidest person I know. Also, one of the most easily amused.In re-writing the lyrics to this song, I learned several things. One is that it looks like I am probably too old to fully enjoy a Snoop Dog concert anymore, which is too bad.Another is that nothing really rhymes with "bonbons."Here's the original:"Sit Around" by Molly (with assistance from Dan)See the couch,

Mollynoreply@blogger.com16tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6516206708343481742.post-83370910180702553892009-06-13T08:11:00.000-04:002009-06-13T08:10:37.301-04:00

I don't want to have a baby on June 13th.My friend Mark died on Friday, June 13th, 1997. It was a very bad day, the capper on a very bad year. When your best friend dies at the pinnacle of what's pretty much the worst year of your life, it does something to you. It's the kind of ironic that makes people pitch a little bit of a nutty, but in my case, it had the opposite effect: it turned me

Mollynoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6516206708343481742.post-48728808222037804642009-06-11T06:47:00.005-04:002009-06-11T07:50:59.907-04:00

My mother doesn't know about this blog, and if you know my mother, I would greatly appreciate you not telling her. Heather Armstrong from Dooce says that the one person whom you are sure will never read your blog will someday read your blog, and until that day arrives I am counting on my mother's lack of internet savvy to keep her far from this small corner of my world. But I had to post this

Mollynoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6516206708343481742.post-59424273688299958412009-06-04T09:45:00.010-04:002009-06-04T10:45:45.568-04:00

She's coming.There's something about the end of pregnancy. It is June 4th, and I am 35 weeks and 2 days pregnant today, and yesterday, my OB designated June 22nd as the big day: induction. Being a type I diabetic, I knew they wouldn't allow me to go to July 7th, which was my original due date. Too much can go wrong too quickly; already my blood pressure is beginning to climb (128/77 yesterday, a

Mollynoreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6516206708343481742.post-72678763604146490912009-05-28T09:55:00.006-04:002009-05-28T12:21:17.222-04:00

Part Three is here.One of the first things they do after the birth is over and the sewing up and the general painfulness is over is turn off your epidural. An epidural is, in essence, safe, but I can't imagine that an open door into your spinal column is something that they want to remain open for that long. That's what they did with me, while Max was having his first bath and being checked out

Mollynoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6516206708343481742.post-83785372258784193272009-05-04T20:53:00.004-04:002009-05-05T06:59:54.472-04:00

Continued from here.That night, and the early part of the next day, is fuzzy to me, and probably for good reason. I was on drugs. I understand the appeal to those people who get addicted: you feel sort of disconnected, and though I was summoned regularly to check my blood sugar or give myself a couple of units of insulin throughout the next 18 or so hours, I did so with a sort of detachment. One

Mollynoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6516206708343481742.post-32853788628383936122009-04-28T12:56:00.004-04:002009-04-29T22:25:31.128-04:00

Continued from here.I waddled out to the car and got into the front seat with an old beach towel wrapped around me. We weren't out of the driveway of the apartment complex before the on-call doctor, who wasn't one of mine, called on my cell phone. I had only met this doctor once, and I wasn't a big fan at that point (it was during that hospitalization back in February for gastroenteritis, during

Mollynoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6516206708343481742.post-18392534332382355302009-04-28T07:12:00.004-04:002009-04-28T10:53:13.398-04:00

I am officially, by the most conservative of estimates, 30 weeks pregnant today. That means that in less than 10 weeks, The New Girl will be putting in an appearance.I am officially beginning to freak out, in several different ways. I was so totally gobsmacked to be pregnant, finally, last fall, and to be pregnant under such an unbelievable amount of financial and personal stress, that, to be

Mollynoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6516206708343481742.post-15797196501643479692009-04-21T23:08:00.005-04:002009-04-22T07:42:16.949-04:00

No, I don't have any pictures to show you. The lighting in my kitchen is appallingly bad and my camera is not a good enough one that it can make up for the bad lighting.If you are just landing here, here is the recipe.King Arthur Unbleached Bread Flour--I just happened to grab that before I found the all-purpose flour. I doubt that it makes a difference in this case.Yeast: I used a very generous

Mollynoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6516206708343481742.post-42396955352159584692009-04-21T09:50:00.002-04:002009-04-21T13:50:05.317-04:00

I recently discovered Smitten Kitchen and have added it to my ever-expanding repetoire of food blogs that I read. Go there, right now, and browse through her recipes. They're amazing, really, and so are her photos.I love to read about food and cooking. It's sort of like porn--there's a lot of descriptions and pictures of things that may or may not turn me on and serve as inspiration, but are

Mollynoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6516206708343481742.post-41609790074031501782009-04-20T15:06:00.003-04:002009-04-20T16:31:05.137-04:00

I like sandwiches.I have no idea when in my life I determined that a sandwich was a thing of beauty, but I have loved sandwiches from way back. Seriously, what is better than a sandwich? When it's done right, it's an amalgamation of textures and a marriage of tastes that are so much greater than the sum of their parts.One of the first meals I fed my husband that really sealed the deal for him was

Mollynoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6516206708343481742.post-29440157304043223382009-04-17T19:59:00.006-04:002009-04-17T20:14:13.583-04:00

Thing one:Scholiast: “n. a commentator on ancient or classical literature”Thing two: Um, who are the Morans? I think my parents' next-door neighbors last name is Moran, but I'm pretty sure one of them is a retired teacher and the other is a research scientist.Oh well, whatever. Yeah, Morans! Get a brain! And Go!Thing three: For the record, "teabagging" means something else. And I'm pretty sure

Mollynoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6516206708343481742.post-83411052825341926312009-04-17T18:46:00.003-04:002009-04-17T19:08:31.643-04:00

So. We have this condo. It's a two-story condo, basically, with a large loft where Dan and I have our bedroom/office/space. There's a ledge that extends off the loft, across the dining room wall, above the door to Max's room, which is just wide enough to store decorative things on, basically. It's not accessible--there's a railing--which is to say that it's where all the crap that we don't want

Mollynoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6516206708343481742.post-36694657865798849492009-04-11T18:08:00.006-04:002009-04-12T03:38:33.658-04:00

When he was about 14 months old, Max took a big face-planting fall off the arm of the couch, headfirst into the back of a chair that was sitting nearby, onto the floor. It was truly one of the most awful moments of my entire life, that split second of stunned silence between crash and screaming. It's the first time I can remember him having really hurt himself--he'd had stomachaches and other

Mollynoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6516206708343481742.post-60714218241048532052009-04-06T12:09:00.004-04:002009-04-06T12:39:39.202-04:00

Today is the first day of my reincarnation as a stay-at-home mother. It only sort-of counts, since Dan is on Spring Break this week and home with us, but I am making a concerted effort to not talk about how much it sucks--indeed, I am trying to make it not suck at all in fact--and so, instead I'll talk about some other things.Twitter: I am loving Twitter. I am forced to be pithy, witty, and,

Mollynoreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6516206708343481742.post-88079671550508712952009-03-29T09:29:00.003-04:002009-03-29T10:32:44.865-04:00

Six years ago tomorrow, Dan told me that he was really enjoying the conversation we were having in the parking lot of our job, standing next to our cars, and he'd really like to continue having it, but he was cold and tired and would I like to come over for awhile?I said yes. And six hours later, he kissed me for the first time.In the past six years, we've moved in together, worked together,

Mollynoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6516206708343481742.post-59932377961273862462009-03-24T12:07:00.003-04:002009-03-24T12:14:13.949-04:00

Dan and I put up a few family pictures of various members of our familes on the wall in Max's room yesterday. We figured that since we live so far away from most of them, he ought to at least be able to recognize them.We were looking at a picture of two of my cousins with their father, my uncle, who is now in his mid-eighties and in faltering health. "Who's that?" I asked Max."That's Cousin Dan,"

Mollynoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6516206708343481742.post-23660745326689054482009-03-23T09:06:00.002-04:002009-03-23T10:01:06.449-04:00

Max is sick. Yesterday was really terrible; he was throwing up constantly and couldn't keep down Tylenol or Motrin, which meant that his temperature was 103.7 and going up. We took him to the E.R., where we discovered that Children's Tylenol comes in suppository form. Thank God.Today is better, but he's definitely not well. He's at least able to eat, but he is feverish, coughing and snorting and

Mollynoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6516206708343481742.post-75179787553052958422009-03-12T10:29:00.003-04:002009-03-12T10:35:03.551-04:00

The best thing the show "Scrubs" ever did was move over to ABC. Because I really love this season, I do. And most of the reason is Gooch, Lawyer Ted's new girlfriend who totally rocks the ukelele.I now have to add the ukelele to my list of instruments I want to learn to play (top of the list: accordian. Dan is not thrilled with this idea. The neighbors prolly won't be either, especially when I

Mollynoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6516206708343481742.post-50553295512130597542009-03-10T13:41:00.004-04:002009-03-10T14:01:52.547-04:00

This is the first job I've had in...oh, six years or so where I haven't been encouraged to work a whole lot of overtime for free. I'm hourly here, as is everyone else, which means that when my 40 hours is up, it's up, and home I go, jiggety-jog. It's kind of great in a way, since I typically work 40 hours by about noon on Thursday. It's also kind of great because after working where I did for two

Mollynoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6516206708343481742.post-35356558768695766662009-03-09T13:38:00.003-04:002009-03-09T16:01:43.759-04:00

There is a weird thing that happens when you can't get pregnant when you think you should, for whatever reason. You start to think of the state of being pregnant as this sort of quasi-nirvana. I think it has something to do with the grass always being greener; you want the baby of course, but more than that, you crave -- what? The act of outgrowing your pants overnight? The loss of your appetite

Mollynoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6516206708343481742.post-42872558511418177032009-03-05T09:42:00.003-05:002009-03-05T09:46:03.609-05:00

This video is the funniest thing I've seen in weeks, and I live with a three-and-a-half year-old who likes nothing more than when naked time is combined with age-inappropriate dance music. What I'm trying to say is, I know funny.(Courtesy of Dooce.com)

Mollynoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6516206708343481742.post-11129753887928664282009-02-22T18:10:00.002-05:002009-02-22T18:44:27.240-05:00

Yes, it's a girl.Dan and I could not have been more surprised on Friday by the sonogram if there had been five or six babies in there. We just have been thinking of ourselves as the parents of boys, maybe because The Max Show is so all-boy-all-the-time.I have a lot of emotions. Like I said, I am really stuck in a mode of thinking of myself as the mother of sons, and I have to admit that it's hard

Mollynoreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6516206708343481742.post-54168649753105080002009-02-20T10:50:00.002-05:002009-02-21T07:04:30.342-05:00

Ultrasound at 2:30 today. Boy bits, or girl bits? Or, like on Tuesday, will the Ghostrider be uncooperative and show us nothing helpful?ETA: Girl bits! Dan and I could not possibly have be more surprised if you'd hit us both in the face with a bag of rendered chicken fat. Max, however, had a bit of a breakdown.We are in Morgantown, West Virginia this weekend. My parents are stopping through on

Mollynoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6516206708343481742.post-39462438684083542232009-02-18T12:27:00.004-05:002009-02-18T13:10:14.585-05:00

Dear Lower Back,Please stop it, you're hurting me.Seriously, whatever it is that's happening right now...wait, I know what's happening right now. I have a 20-week-old fetus in residence, and their head is resting against the top of my tailbone. That's according to my new, very sweet obstetrician, who I saw this week. She is a part of the practice who will be delivering the fetus-in-residence on

Mollynoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6516206708343481742.post-45273581101404962952009-02-14T09:42:00.003-05:002009-02-14T10:04:34.035-05:00

I missed yesterday. But I have a good excuse.Max didn't want to eat dinner. He didn't want to eat anything. Very strange for him. Not so much that he didn't want to eat dinner, but that he didn't want to eat anything.He came upstairs last night around midnight. "My bed is all wet," he said.Max had thrown up in his bed. Oh yes he did.He threw up all night. Dan took the night shift, and I had a

Mollynoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6516206708343481742.post-34911086444086114992009-02-12T20:13:00.003-05:002009-02-12T20:23:49.808-05:00

The last movie I saw in a theater was that last Indiana Jones thing last summer. I rarely go to the movies anymore. For one thing, I have a kid. We have great friends who would be happy to babysit for us, but we've rarely taken them up on the offer. I would be happy to go more than we do, but we don't, and it's because Dan is not a movie person. I like things like movies and TV and music--Dan is

Mollynoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6516206708343481742.post-59181795807130798052009-02-11T21:38:00.002-05:002009-02-11T21:42:46.468-05:00

I don't have a lot of guilty pleasures. Pleasure is not something I typically feel guilty about. However, if I had to name one, I'd have to say that my single biggest one is White Castle hamburgers. I would drive a pretty significant distance out of my way for a White Castle burger. Not a cheeseburger, not a double cheeseburger, just a regular old White Castle, with the dehydrated onions and

Mollynoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6516206708343481742.post-85299676795877927712009-02-11T07:08:00.002-05:002009-02-11T07:15:03.726-05:00

Molly: "Did you hear the thing on the news about the guy who showed up with a rifle looking for President Obama?"Dan: "No. What, at the White House?"Molly: "Yeah. Like, this dude has got to be seriously the dumbest attempted Presidential assassin of all time. He walks up to the security checkpoint dressed up like a Fed-Ex guy and is all, 'Uhh, yes, I have a package for a Barack Obama?'"Dan: "What

Mollynoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6516206708343481742.post-52761288816291312222009-02-10T22:00:00.003-05:002009-02-11T07:08:15.468-05:00

I am obsessed with former D.C. mayor Marion Barry. He is currently a member of the City Council, and most people remember him as the mayor who was caught on tape by the FBI in 1990, smoking crack in a motel room with a former girlfriend and escort. He was sent to prison for six months on a previous drug charge, and has been making a concerted effort for the past nearly-40 years to prove to

Mollynoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6516206708343481742.post-59031040268829298182009-02-09T18:15:00.002-05:002009-02-09T18:35:12.672-05:00

I was born in Kalamazoo, Michigan, but when I was born, my parents lived in a little town on the eastern shore of Lake Michigan called South Haven. South Haven is mostly a resort town; it has about 12,000 year-round residents and in the summer, there are about 60,000 people in town at any given time. At the time that I was born, there were fewer year-round residents than that, by far. The town

Mollynoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6516206708343481742.post-74403733856539841152009-02-08T21:15:00.003-05:002009-02-08T21:23:51.416-05:00

There are some areas in which my parenting falls woefully short. My kid is going on four years old, and he's still not potty trained. He is not even close, and I have no idea how to fix it. We ask him twenty times a day if he needs to go potty, and the answer is always no, even if he is visably in mid-poop. Also, I cannot get him to go to bed at night. We've tried everything. We've had to

Mollynoreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6516206708343481742.post-25350145074387072422009-02-07T10:04:00.002-05:002009-02-07T10:22:24.575-05:00

Yes, so I missed yesterday. I came home, laid down on the couch, and promptly fell asleep. I don't know what to tell you. Fatigue is kicking my ass this pregnancy, even more so than last time. I think it's because there's a 3-1/2-year-old already living here, which could make anyone tired.So today, I will think of two random things about myself to make up for yesterday. As long as we're talking

Mollynoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6516206708343481742.post-2260145982809900422009-02-05T22:11:00.002-05:002009-02-05T22:23:54.986-05:00

There are certain pieces of music I love for their ability to take me to a particular place and time in my own history. For example: the songs "Queen of the Slipstream" and "Days Like This" by Van Morrison always makes me think of driving home on Friday nights after the ski resort closed. I practically lived there my Senior year. I don't know why I always listened to Van Morrison on the way home,

Mollynoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6516206708343481742.post-75767672756502277572009-02-04T17:39:00.003-05:002009-02-04T23:25:28.339-05:00

I have had notable crushes on the following celebrities: Joe McIntyre (from New Kids on the Block), Kiefer Sutherland, Ricky Schroeder. Johnny Depp circa 1988, Tom Cruise circa 1987, Ben Affleck, Brad Pitt, John Corbitt, Kyle McLachlan, Vince Vaughn, Phillip Seymour Hoffman, Seth Rogan, Edward Norton, and Bradley Whitford.It is my most fervent hope that my tastes continue to evolve.Edited: Gahh!

Mollynoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6516206708343481742.post-59261094754632171702009-02-03T18:19:00.002-05:002009-02-03T19:01:56.261-05:00

I think the auto industry bailout is, overall, a good thing, as long as it's accompanied by real change in the leadership and their greed and their short-sightedness and their mismanagement. I also think that the banking bailout has proved to be a giant fucking hairshirt of the worst kind; it was a stupid idea to use tax dollars to subsidize the spa retreats and annual bonuses of a bunch of

Mollynoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6516206708343481742.post-51068522947771088972009-02-02T09:05:00.000-05:002009-02-02T09:06:01.909-05:00

I love to cook for people and I have loved Mexican food for as long as I can remember, really good, spicy Mexican food. I would die happy, as long as I drowned in a bucket of guacamole. One of my favorite things ever is the chicken flautas meal from Mi Ranchito in Kalamazoo, Michigan--the one on Westnedge, which is now closed, was much better than the one in Oshtemo. I am firmly of the opinion

Mollynoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6516206708343481742.post-65786996785975089782009-02-01T17:47:00.005-05:002009-02-01T18:15:44.150-05:00

It's February and it's the shortest month and therefore I feel at least slightly justified in talking about myself. I recently did a "25 Random Things About Me" thing on Facebook and I was surprised at how much I liked doing it and how much I liked reading other people's 25 things. I like to talk about myself. It's one of those things that sort of adds to my social awkwardness.So in a sort of

Mollynoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6516206708343481742.post-85268567025020505482009-01-27T18:56:00.004-05:002009-01-27T20:28:22.888-05:00

So mostly I talk about silly stuff my kid or my husband says, or something funny I saw on the internet, or something I'm eating (or would like to eat.) Occasionally I get a little maudlin and talk about politics or something else that I take seriously, usually in regards to how it relates to me or my family.This is a little bit like that. But not really. But sort of. I'm deadly fucking serious

Mollynoreply@blogger.com23tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6516206708343481742.post-71271550102871841972009-01-25T08:49:00.002-05:002009-01-25T08:51:46.422-05:00

I just had the following conversation with Max:Me: Max, stop wiping your nose on the bookshelf. (Max ignores me, continues to spread snot everywhere.) Max!Max: (Gets mad, turns around shakes an index finger at me.) No! You stop yelling! I'm so mad at you! I quit!Me: Yeah, if I can't quit, you can't quit.

Mollynoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6516206708343481742.post-12394251080762782252009-01-19T11:50:00.002-05:002009-01-19T12:30:01.711-05:00

Dear Max,I know the last few days have been hard for you, and uncomfortable, and scary. Someday soon, you'll have forgotten all about it though, and all there'll be to remind you is the hospital bracelet that your bear is wearing. I'd do anything to make you feel better, sweet boy, and so would your daddy; it breaks our hearts to see you like you are right now.I know you'd never understand it if

Mollynoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6516206708343481742.post-31544351804061618512009-01-18T17:24:00.003-05:002009-01-18T19:54:19.005-05:00

Max is sick. He's a kid in pre-school, and his father is a public school teacher, so virtually every bug that occurs in nature enters our house. He is relatively seldom sick, too. He's only ever had one stomach bug, and he gets the occasional cold, but I've never seen him the way he was this weekend.His fever never went below 100, and most of the time it was more like 103. He wouldn't eat,

Mollynoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6516206708343481742.post-61796055057275372902009-01-17T11:54:00.003-05:002009-01-17T12:55:03.766-05:00

One of the roughly ho-jillion reasons that I love Facebook (MySpace, not so much: sort of annoying and adolescent) is the ability to re-connect with people I lost touch with years ago.Interestingly enough, the majority of my Facebook friends are people I met at church camp. Yes, I did indeed go to church camp, for four years and then a fifth year as a staff member. Church camp, when you're 14, is

Mollynoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6516206708343481742.post-46100254804601453892009-01-14T11:39:00.002-05:002009-01-14T11:41:43.153-05:00

Best Google Search term ever:"Dog Elephantitis."Whoever you are, I hope you found what you were looking for.

Mollynoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6516206708343481742.post-37561194044652100702009-01-09T19:09:00.004-05:002009-01-09T19:35:25.559-05:00

I once had a conversation via email with Goon Squad Sarah about Anthony Bourdain, about how he was like that guy in high school that you got totally drunk at a party with once and made out with a little, and who then broke your teenage heart when he didn't talk to you the next day in school, and then broke it again when your best friend marched up to him (he was smoking behind the baseball dugout

Mollynoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6516206708343481742.post-9665457920011632882009-01-06T07:18:00.004-05:002009-01-06T07:54:17.750-05:00

First of all, go and read this post. Then come back.The upshot is that this mother, in her nightly struggle to get her pre-school-aged daughter to bed and to sleep, in her frustration, wondered aloud via Twitter if it would be acceptable to smother her daughter in order to get her to stay in bed. A woman who follows her on Twitter, who clearly doesn't know her, her morbid sense of humor, or the

Mollynoreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6516206708343481742.post-58825571387215711412009-01-02T10:48:00.003-05:002009-01-02T10:57:46.455-05:00

My love of "The West Wing" has been exhaustively declared and demonstrated here, and I won't put you through it again.But watch this show, this creative, smart, funny, adorable, incredibly good show, again written by Aaron Sorkin. I love this show. I want to cheat on my husband with this show.(Not really, sweetie. But this show, it is so good.)It was cancelled after one season, proof positive

Mollynoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6516206708343481742.post-17292628298886988462008-12-30T08:35:00.003-05:002008-12-30T09:18:25.396-05:00

Remember when you sent me a flier for high speed internet access, and I agreed to it, and went to Best Buy, which I cheerfully loathe, and bought all the wireless stuff, and paid like $200 for it, and then the high speed internet access you gave me didn't work for like six months?And when I called and complained that the high speed internet access I was paying like $48 a month for didn't work,

Mollynoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6516206708343481742.post-56658409212056188372008-12-29T12:55:00.003-05:002008-12-29T13:03:24.555-05:00

1. Tomorrow is my birthday.2. My internet is broken.3. Morning sickness that lasts all day totally sucks ass.4. My kid will not stop getting out of bed at night. Last night we dragged out the old portable crib, set it up, and made him sleep in it, because the little shit would not stop getting out of bed. I feel bad about the fact that he almost became a child abuse statistic last night, but

Mollynoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6516206708343481742.post-19262519335581733732008-12-12T19:10:00.003-05:002008-12-12T20:05:15.758-05:00

I joined Facebook over the summer. It's actually been really kind of a good thing. I've reconnected with a lot of old friends and acquaintances, people I lost track of a long time ago. I've gotten to know people I knew as a kid as grownups, and realized that there are people who I was intimidated by and uncomfortable around who are really lovely and kind people, despite the fact that several of

Mollynoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6516206708343481742.post-72472387586908157042008-12-07T17:04:00.002-05:002008-12-07T17:48:51.717-05:00

I just wanted to write you a quick note and say hi. Just in case you were wondering, I own the Chrysler Town & Country minivan that you stole Thursday night. Congratulations, by the way. You were very quiet and sneaky. I never heard a sound--no breaking glass, no nothing--probably because you didn't break a window, you used a crowbar. We didn't know anything about it until the next morning. I

Mollynoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6516206708343481742.post-90064515851559190592008-12-05T07:42:00.004-05:002008-12-05T08:14:12.363-05:00

Remember that time that our car was towed? That was a really bad day, I'll tell you.Yeah, today is worse.It started out the same: Dan walked out the door, keys in hand, looked around, and said, "Where is our car?"This time, though, I knew something was really wrong, not just a mis-read tag.I called 911. They sent a cop to our house. The cop called in the tag and VIN number. We waited.The call

Mollynoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6516206708343481742.post-72655325991689909092008-12-03T06:35:00.002-05:002008-12-03T07:32:50.638-05:00

My best friend's baby won't sleep. I feel so completely bad for Kimberly and Michael, because I remember how completely awful it was when the kid won't sleep, how it totally destroys any sense of routine or normal in your house, how thoroughly it clouds and confounds all of your other experiences.To be totally fair, let me just say that Max was a really good sleeper, all things considered. Sure,

Mollynoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6516206708343481742.post-6031500893719237532008-12-01T05:44:00.003-05:002008-12-01T05:44:00.205-05:00

Most of my long-time readers know that Dan and I have been trying to get pregnant for two years without success, and I stopped talking about it a year or so ago. What most of them don't know is that I've had two early miscarriages in that time, so early that I wouldn't have known they were miscarriages were it not for state-of-the-art pregnancy tests. Dozens of blood tests and studies have

Mollynoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6516206708343481742.post-23379939063321726162008-11-30T08:35:00.003-05:002008-11-30T08:51:10.165-05:00

I haven't accomplished a lot with NaBloPoMo this year, not that I did last year. I feel like I should be writing a serial poem, with a new stanza posted every day, or...I don't know. But right now I feel like I can't do much, and I don't want to do much, and as a result, all is vanity.Something more interesting is coming, though. I didn't want to announce what I have to announce during NaBloPoMo,

Mollynoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6516206708343481742.post-79889952073644240552008-11-29T06:18:00.001-05:002008-11-29T06:18:00.445-05:00

I would try to think of something interesting to say, but all in all, it's been a bit of a day, and now "Real Genius" is on cable. Have I mentioned how much I love this movie? So. Freaking. Funny.Wait, don't answer that last question I just asked. I know the answer. Yes, I've mentioned it. Last year, during NaBloPoMo, as a matter of fact, I mentioned it. Still, never mind. One of the greatest

Mollynoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6516206708343481742.post-85152289295874955872008-11-28T09:15:00.000-05:002008-11-28T09:15:00.179-05:00

I'm just thinking, what's up with Javier Bardem's head? Why does it look so enormous on his body? He's so beautiful, and it's totally ruined by the effect that he looks like a bobblehead.Behold:Javier, you are too fine to be so...bobbly. Seriously. Maybe it's that you're dressed in black, and it's slimming. Still.I would wonder that you can even hold that giant melon up, except that I've seen

Mollynoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6516206708343481742.post-54795150498311105762008-11-27T05:48:00.000-05:002008-11-27T05:48:01.169-05:00

I have an announcement brewing. I am not really ready to come out with it just yet, there are too many variables for it to be, you know, public knowledge, but soon, I think. Suffice it to say that today, a day that we are so focused on gratitude, thanksgiving is something that is really resounding with me.Our lives are so complicated and challenging, and they become more so all the time. The

Mollynoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6516206708343481742.post-32293963553045747132008-11-26T06:42:00.000-05:002008-11-26T06:42:00.997-05:00

To be filed under "Just Because You Can Doesn't Mean You Should":Paula Deen's Deep-Fried Stuffing on a StickP.S. I wasn't aware of Paula Deen's working relationship with Smithfield Pork products, which is an absolute abomination of a factory farm, but I don't have to love her to shake my head in wonderment at the woman who's deep-fried a stick of butter, do I?

Mollynoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6516206708343481742.post-87664769957826340142008-11-25T09:02:00.003-05:002008-11-25T09:20:24.015-05:00

My friend Chris is, I think, my evil twin. She and I have the same birthday and also we couldn't be more indifferent toward Thanksgiving food. She and her husband (Hi John!) moved here from Michigan also and aren't burdened with family for this particular upcoming holiday, so we're celebrating my usual non-traditional Thankgiving dinner together this year.Here's the menu:Artichoke Spinach dip and

Mollynoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6516206708343481742.post-2182815496024624422008-11-24T18:30:00.004-05:002008-11-24T18:34:03.587-05:00

Dan, rubbing his face: Man, I need to shave something fierce.Molly: How about a bobcat?Dan: How about my testicles? Hah, walked right into that, didn't you?

Mollynoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6516206708343481742.post-77047221788651246002008-11-24T14:43:00.002-05:002008-11-24T14:47:32.951-05:00

My husband is sort of like a Skittle. He is tough on the outside, looks (I’ve been told) like Stone Cold Steve Austin, has a big, loud voice that intimidates the crap out of high school freshmen, and spent years in the military. On the inside, he is squishy and fruity and sweet and you have to pretty much bite him in half to find that out.Dan’s Achilles heel is his eyes. This is a man who has

Mollynoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6516206708343481742.post-12924984586536316612008-11-23T20:52:00.003-05:002008-11-23T21:01:55.682-05:00

Want to know what today has been like at Chez Nonhipster?Imagine that I'm a cat in a box, and my son is a bulldog.Ready?That is what my day has been like.

Mollynoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6516206708343481742.post-25140111313210716142008-11-22T13:56:00.003-05:002008-11-22T14:19:57.602-05:00

So far today I've been accused by my usually wonderful husband of acting like "a psycho" and "a pregnant person." Neither of which I am, to the best of my knowledge. So there, A-hole.I don't feel like writing a blog t0day. I don't feel like getting off my ass today either. I'm tired and queasy and short-tempered, so maybe he's right and I am acting like a pregnant person. I'm still not though.

Mollynoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6516206708343481742.post-28162272630276447682008-11-21T06:36:00.003-05:002008-11-21T07:02:37.004-05:00

Not me. I sleep just fine. I live with a three-year-old insomniac and I am losing my goddamned mind.The kid is getting up every night somewhere between six and twenty times, between bedtime at 8:00 and 4 a.m. It usually starts two minutes after we tuck him in at night, and continues roughly every ten to fifteen minutes or so for an hour. He always has some totally surreal excuse for being out

Mollynoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6516206708343481742.post-81787199645629768562008-11-20T11:09:00.002-05:002008-11-20T11:26:58.546-05:00

Officially less than 13 hours until "Twilight" premiers. I don't think I'll be going out at midnight to see it, what with tomorrow being a work day and all, but if I find someone else who wants to, I might be persuaded.Are you going to see it, or are you afraid you'll be disappointed? I see all the Harry Potter movies when they come out, and I am always disappointed by them, and yet I'll continue

Mollynoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6516206708343481742.post-3405958173479704042008-11-19T06:04:00.001-05:002008-11-19T06:04:00.724-05:00

One of the very finest writers that I have ever known is Jim Griffeon at Sweet Juniper. I went to high school with him and have a son who is several months younger than his own Sweet Juniper and I admire his writing and his photography and his creativity and his principles very much.Jim is a resident of the city of Detroit and a close-up observer of the place. He, unlike the vast majority of

Mollynoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6516206708343481742.post-58979960410224679132008-11-18T08:00:00.003-05:002008-11-18T09:05:56.482-05:00

Gee whiz, Day 18 and I'm already hitting a wall. That didn't take much time. It's hard to find something to talk about every day, much less something interesting. Some days I think of two things, and I write a post ahead of time, which makes me feel virtuous and also like I manage time very well. The second thing is true, the first one, not so much. It's hard to like soft, ripe cheeses as much

Mollynoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6516206708343481742.post-77983313947162109432008-11-17T09:32:00.004-05:002008-11-17T10:04:07.689-05:00

Once again, The West Wing. As I'm sure you're aware, there's a tradition of pardoning a turkey in the White House--this extends both to the real White House, and this much better, fictional one.C.J. Cregg is one of my favorite TV characters ever, both because she's smart and funny, but because she's elegant and human and so, so, so wonderful at what she does. If you don't believe me, watch her

Mollynoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6516206708343481742.post-60701489531356127762008-11-16T13:25:00.003-05:002008-11-16T13:35:15.523-05:00

Dan and I got married in July of 2004, in my grandmother's church. One of the drawbacks to getting married there (beside the fact that it wasn't air-conditioned, and I was wearing a big, hot dress comprised of many layers of non-breathable, man-made fabric) was that the church was pretty strict about the music that they allowed. Nothing secular was permitted, which was fine with me because I

Mollynoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6516206708343481742.post-9792207050186616942008-11-15T12:16:00.004-05:002008-11-15T12:16:00.994-05:00

I wrote some stuff here awhile ago of really no consequence at all about my first boyfriend, who later became a rock star, demonstrating that I am kind of a dumbass and really had no kind of good judgement, like, at all, and I've since then just gotten rid of it, because while I'm not really that embarassed by my lack of good judgement as a teenager, I do feel like sort of a dumbass for bragging

Mollynoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6516206708343481742.post-34828397010432390632008-11-14T09:03:00.002-05:002008-11-14T10:38:47.924-05:00

My best friend, who is blind, got a guide dog when we were in college. Garnet was a big black lab who had a stubborn streak and an occasional attitude problem. At Kimberly's wedding, Garnet snored loudly through the service. She walked Kimberly into puddles in an effort to keep her own feet dry. She was more eerily human in her non-verbal communication than most people that I know.When Garnet

Mollynoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6516206708343481742.post-76920434362812511202008-11-13T09:30:00.000-05:002008-11-13T09:30:00.813-05:00

Tonight on the way to my knitting group, I was listening to our local talk radio station, and there was a commercial on. I thought it was for one of those fake "Italian" restaurants, like Olive Garden or something, because they were describing the simmering of the tomatoes, onions, garlic, and celery, the perfectly-prepared pasta, the fresh loaves of bread straight from the oven.There could be

Mollynoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6516206708343481742.post-77718914969637035082008-11-12T07:12:00.001-05:002008-11-12T07:12:00.417-05:00

Google is my homepage. That sounds disturbingly like "God is my co-pilot," which makes me think of the bumpersticker I saw the other day on the Beltway that said "Dog is my co-pilot," which makes me chortle. But Google is my homepage, and at the top of it, there's a daily "How-To" box, which I love. How to think like Leonardo DaVinci. How to roll a Center-Pull ball of yarn. How to compost kitchen

Mollynoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6516206708343481742.post-3664126130083885352008-11-11T09:38:00.000-05:002008-11-11T09:38:03.540-05:00

I love TV, and the best thing I've ever seen on TV is still "The West Wing." My love of The West Wing is well-documented, long-standing, passionate, and unwavering.Here's why I love it: like most things in life, it's serious and very very funny, both, simulatneously. I love how incredibly well-written it is. I also love how smart and just plain great it is, how the politics reflect the best

Mollynoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6516206708343481742.post-23860473004519128982008-11-10T07:52:00.000-05:002008-11-10T07:52:00.581-05:00

Saturday night, I had a dream that I was teaching Max how to ski. It's what I used to do--teach skiing. The pay was bad, but I mostly did it for the cute-boy potential and the free season pass. I learned how to ski when I was right around Max's age. My mother tells a story about me at age three skiing full-speed down the bunny hill, singing "Joy to the World" at full volume: the Three Dog

Mollynoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6516206708343481742.post-37126313793403338622008-11-09T06:44:00.000-05:002008-11-09T06:44:00.953-05:00

I love dip. Everyone who knows me knows I love dip. If I died tomorrow, I'd die happy--as long as I drowned in a swimming pool full of guacamole.Here's a recipe for spicy eggplant dip. Eggplant is something people have strong feelings about. I love it, as long as it's done well--meaning salted and rinsed to get rid of the icky bitter liquid that sort of oozes out of it. I love eggplant

Mollynoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6516206708343481742.post-34465483789919193442008-11-08T05:40:00.000-05:002008-11-08T05:40:00.239-05:00

Goon Squad Sarah and I are both obsessed with the Twilight series.Yes, I admit it. I made fun of numerous people for it, and now I'm totally having to eat crow, but 14-year-old me would never have had a boyfriend if I'd read Twilight, because I'd be out looking for Edward Cullen. No one else would have measured up.And now there's a movie. A movie! I don't care how much fun Dan makes of me, I

Mollynoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6516206708343481742.post-72066940201009888182008-11-07T06:43:00.004-05:002008-11-07T06:43:01.510-05:00

By this time, everybody's familiar with FailBlog. Their tagline: Delighting in the Suffering and Humiliation of Others Since 2006.Mostly I think a lot of the things on there are sort of awful, but this one cracks me up. Look:Nothing cracks me up like things that are lost in translation.I like my nonsense braised, personally, but whatever.

Mollynoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6516206708343481742.post-32430055537207222292008-11-06T08:55:00.001-05:002008-11-06T08:55:00.974-05:00

One of my favorite books of all time is Nora Ephron's great novel Heartburn. I've written about it before, because I love the story and I love the story of the story and I love the food in the story. Nora Ephron was married to Carl Bernstein of Woodward and Bernstein, and he had an affair with an absolutely wretched woman, a Washington D.C. socialite. It must have been devastating to her, and it

Mollynoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6516206708343481742.post-49264532229298007092008-11-05T09:31:00.000-05:002008-11-04T22:48:11.357-05:00

In 1992, when Bill Clinton was elected President, I was 16 years old on election night. I couldn't vote yet, and I had tickets to see Tori Amos in concert at the State Theater in Kalamazoo, Michigan.Brian VanderArk opened. He is the lead singer of The Verve Pipe, which, at the time, was a local band. That night, he came out alone and played the acoustic guitar and sang. It was the first time

Mollynoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6516206708343481742.post-38988159629729846322008-11-04T09:21:00.001-05:002008-11-04T09:21:01.271-05:00

What will suck is in two weeks, when all that's left of Max's Halloween candy is Bazooka and the "?" - flavored DumDums, and I'll get all excited because I'll see a Snickers wrapper in the bottom of the bag and dig through only to realize that the Snickers wrapper is actually empty, and I ate the Snickers on Halloween night.Then I'll get mad and throw the whole bag in the trash.Then two hours

Mollynoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6516206708343481742.post-79711964711049822482008-11-03T08:00:00.002-05:002008-11-03T08:00:00.865-05:00

I don't really take pictures of what I knit. For one thing, I don't think I'm that great a knitter. For another thing, I typically forget to take pictures of almost everything.But I am knitting like a madwoman. I have a lot of yarn stashed, and instead of cooking expensive and decadent meals that I'm too wound up to eat, I am instead knitting madly. Lucky for me, other people take pictures of

Mollynoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6516206708343481742.post-45204979897893540522008-11-02T06:26:00.002-05:002008-11-02T06:43:59.201-05:00

It is my most fervant hope that in a few days, this country will be a different place.I'm voting because I have a three-year-old son, and I want him to have every opportunity that I did, and more.I'm voting because I have a chronic illness, and stem cell research could help me live long enough to meet my great-grandchildren.I'm voting because a woman should be able to choose whether or not she

Mollynoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6516206708343481742.post-51132440543077237332008-11-01T16:25:00.005-04:002008-11-01T16:51:26.930-04:00

I did this last year and I don't know if I'll have the time or the wherewithal to do it this year, but it was a good exercise in consistency and discipline and I learned a lot. I'm not sure I have a lot to say right now, due in part to high (but falling) levels of dissatisfaction with my life, but I'll try. Maybe what I'll try is things that have shaped me, things from my past, things I'm

Mollynoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6516206708343481742.post-61513768421822613382008-10-15T16:03:00.006-04:002008-10-18T12:21:39.978-04:00

(Updated: It's merely a coincidence, but I love that Heather Armstrong at Dooce and Melissa Summers at Suburban Bliss have written posts very similar to this one in the last few days. I am restating my plea to anyone who reads this: it matters. It matters who you vote for. It matters that you vote to protect women in this country, women who can't speak out for themselves, who have no medium in

Mollynoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6516206708343481742.post-85545411468162027822008-10-10T10:42:00.004-04:002008-10-10T11:06:48.533-04:00

I rarely do this.Please go to Suburban Bliss and read Melissa Summers' post "This is a first draft." She has written a post about her childhood that is so raw, magical, and beautiful that it has completely taken my breath away. I have gone back and re-read her post several times this morning, and I will probably continue to do so throughout the day.As parents, we want so much. We want it for

Mollynoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6516206708343481742.post-74206465809238449632008-10-07T10:44:00.004-04:002008-10-07T11:41:48.160-04:00

My wallet was stolen last week.Literally, one minute I had it and the next I didn't. I was in Bethesda, on a job interview...Oh, yeah, the job interview. I lost my job. Well, sort of. I quit my job, because I hated it so much I cried every day. I have already had that job. In the winter of 2001-2002, I got drunk every night just so that I could stand the thought of getting up the next

Mollynoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6516206708343481742.post-79051044061371784442008-09-25T21:00:00.002-04:002008-09-25T21:35:56.927-04:00

Thanks, Google, for once again freaking me right the eff out.How did Luke Wingo Die in The Prince of Tides? He was shot by Green Berets who were sent to the town to find him after he made some threats against the government, which had torn down his hometown to build a nuclear power plant. Of course, you could just re-read the book, but why? I just ruined the ending for you.The Rock is Cooking's

Mollynoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6516206708343481742.post-34533541732078582552008-09-25T13:05:00.002-04:002008-09-25T13:13:08.953-04:00

Hi. I'm a type I diabetic.It just sucks so much ass.I got what I thought was the flu in February of 2000. It didn't go away for three months. Then I started to lose weight. Soon I had lost 80 pounds.I won't lie to you. I was pretty excited to be wearing a size 8. But as diets go, I gotta say, I can't recommend it. It put me in the hospital for about six days.This is all a very, very long

Mollynoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6516206708343481742.post-11643635557692935332008-09-16T09:20:00.004-04:002008-09-19T12:43:05.352-04:00

The spring before I start kindergarten, my mother and I move in with another separated mother. She has three children: two boys and a younger girl. With me inserted in there, there is exactly three years in age difference between all of us. She is getting divorced from a wealthy, extremely successful child psychologist, and she has an enormous house with a pool and a huge backyard. My mother and

Mollynoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6516206708343481742.post-26321206651860264832008-09-15T22:09:00.000-04:002008-09-15T22:09:48.851-04:00

In my first memory, I am lying in someone's lap (I don't know whose), looking up at the underside of the open drawbridge over the Black River in South Haven, Michigan. We are on the deck of a sailboat coming back from Lake Michigan, but again, I don't know whose. My mother is there. So is my father. -----South Haven is the town where I lived until I was five years old. My parents bought a

Mollynoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6516206708343481742.post-69562349742577884342008-09-12T16:38:00.002-04:002008-09-12T16:47:17.115-04:00

I love Facebook. I have learned so much on it, including that people who I thought didn't like me in elementary school now want to be my friend.I have serious questions about use of the word "friend" as employed by Facebook, but whatever.But one of the things I've learned today, via facebook, is this: the bald guy in OKGo, the one who lip-syncs all their videos, is Tim Nordwind. He was in my

Mollynoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6516206708343481742.post-18462209486740529342008-09-12T08:47:00.002-04:002008-09-12T08:52:27.905-04:00

I love this.1. Little Painter Molly, 2. enchiladas with red sauce, 3. Kalamazoo Central High School: Class of 1986, 4. Road To No Regret, 5. loud, 6. Acquarello, 7. View from the Westertoren, 8. Green tea banana walnut ice cream, 9. Day 106 - I am a librarian, 10. Joy of life, 11. here it comes, 12. Spotted him!Here are the rules:a. Type your answer to each of the questions below into Flickr

Mollynoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6516206708343481742.post-52087871310659531382008-09-10T10:29:00.001-04:002008-09-10T10:31:05.979-04:00

"It's such a lie that we should do what's in our hearts. If we all did what was in our hearts, the world would grind to a halt." -- Angela Chase, from "My So-Called Life"

Mollynoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6516206708343481742.post-24836823396221352922008-09-06T10:56:00.001-04:002008-09-10T10:31:42.183-04:00

Dear Gerry and Trina,Dan and I have been trying to think of something to say about marriage to the two of you. Basically, you couldn't find two bigger proponants of the institution than us. We have been married for four years, which isn't that long, but four years is as long as you spend in high school, or getting a college degree (or a third of a college degree, in some cases.) It's not an

Mollynoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6516206708343481742.post-50462670852555704152008-08-30T15:06:00.003-04:002008-08-30T22:41:11.022-04:00

As you may (or may not) have noticed, I haven't been writing a whole lot lately. I am in a bit of a funk. It comes from having a very demanding and difficult new job, all of the nuances of which I don't fully understand, a 3-year-old starting preschool (which he is crazy about, by the by), and a husband starting a new school year. In addition, I have family who are in a crisis of heretofore

Mollynoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6516206708343481742.post-47613866813010229042008-08-18T21:25:00.003-04:002008-08-18T21:30:37.998-04:00

Dan: What are you watching?Molly: "Jo and Slade: Date my Ex."Dan: Why don't they just call that show "Pimp My Leftovers?"Molly: Not long enough?Dan: How about "Shit, I Hit That?"

Mollynoreply@blogger.com0