A hot mess of madness—and you’ll fit right in.
Alongside the Sisters Series, you’ll find Random Rants for my sanity and your reading pleasure. Inspiration strikes without warning, so browse boldly… and maybe say a prayer.
Dear Abby fan? Meet her demented cousin, Help a Sister Out.
Love a good podcast? Hold your bra straps—we’re warming up the mic.
But I would….Serving up Bad Advice with a Side of Great Instincts Dear Demented Dear Abby, My husband has started going to bed at 8:30pm. Not 9. Not 9:30. 8. Thirty. He sets an alarm, announces it like he’s boarding a flight, and disappears. I am left alone on the couch every single night with
I have one working arm right now…good times. Let me tell you what that does to me…someone who normally runs her entire life at 100 miles an hour. It stops me dead. Completely stalled. Parked. Hubs has taken over everything…laundry, dishes, dog, dinner, my entire to-do list. I sit here like a backseat driver with
I’m back from my 20 minute oil change. As usual, whenever one dares enter the depths of my cavern, there’s a traumatic story to follow. Let’s begin at the beginning. I always arrive early for scheduled maintenance. That’s how you get the good magazines. Arrive late and last year’s issue of “Parenting Magazine” is all yours. That sort of literature puts my
I come to you from a 29-foot camper with no real internet, 30 mph wind that hasn’t stopped since it started and a new best friend I met 12 hours ago because she said, “I’m drinking wine.” I’m not sure she knows we are best friends but that’s ok. She’s, my people. That’s the whole
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