Thanks to The Bully Project for sponsoring my writing. Visit their website to join the movement and learn more. When  was in fifth and sixth grade, there was a girl in my class named Lauren. She was small and slim, with black hair. Pretty. And for the life of me, I can’t imagine what it was…

It’s a loaded word. And we use it all the time in so many different ways… “How could I be so stupid?…then the stupid coffee maker broke…don’t say stupid honey, it’s not nice…don’t be stupid, of course I’ll help with…that stupid dog was barking all night…please don’t say stupid sweetie, it hurts feelings…” I’ve tried explaining that it’s…

My mother tells a story about how she once spent the night before Christmas assembling 100 tiny plastic escalator steps in Barbie’s shopping mall. Her parents were both in the hospital and she didn’t actually start shopping for presents until Christmas Eve. She says there was nothing left in the stores—she had to buy the…

There was a time when I felt pretty confident in my ability to remember important appointments, birthdays, anniversaries…trash day…. But since having children I find that if I don’t write something on my calendar, it may not find its way onto my radar until days later (if at all). A lot of women call this…

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about getting older. And by “lately” I mean the past five years. I’ll be 40 next year. And in a way, it’s like turning 30 all over again. No real concern for the number, just a little anxious anticipation about this new context. To no longer be a thirtysomething…