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Empty Carseat, Empty Heart

My daughter, while beloved, is not an easy child. She is very much her own person, yet I see glimpses of my own childhood in her. I know she’s not me, but goddamn this daughter of mine has so much Nielson running through her Millar veins that I can’t help but pity Chris. He now has two stubborn, impatient, always right and often hangry women in his life. No wonder he retreats to the basement so much.

I’ve shifted my entire world to spend as much time as possible with Francis while she’s young enough to still like me. The days she’s with me all day are the longest and most difficult days, yet the days she goes to school? I miss her. Like seriously, miss her.

Going to pick her up is the highlight of my solo days. Not my freelance work, getting things done around the house, child-free errands, having enough quiet time to listen to a podcast, or even finally using the rest room alone.


The highlight is when that empty carseat in the back of my car is suddenly filled with very loud sass.  I’m usually this giddy on my way to pick her up…

empty carseat, empty heart

I don’t even know who I am anymore, but I’m soaking it all up because she won’t be little much longer. And while I won’t miss the screaming tantrums, I’ll really miss the fifteen hugs she gives me once the screaming subsides.


Why the Comcast Tech Might be my Daytime Soulmate

I’m racing around the house trying to find a jacket, so Franny and I can get to the library in time for story hour when I hear someone ringing the doorbell.


All hell breaks loose. The pugs are barking and scratching at the front door in hopes of finding a pizza delivery on the other side of the door. Franny is screaming because, well, she’s a toddler and they don’t need reasons to scream. It’s just their job.

I finally get things settled down enough to open the door to find a Comcast tech who needs access to our backyard to fix connection issues for the neighborhood. I track down the key to the gate to let him in and he looks at me with the kindest eyes and says, “I think you’ve earned your morning drink with that chaos. What’s that saying, for every baby cry do a shot of whiskey?”

It took every ounce of self control not to grab a bottle of whiskey and do shots in the backyard with him. Had I not left Franny alone in the house with the pugs, I might have… but today isn’t the day to make sure the pugs make good nannies.

I laugh and thank him for encouraging motherhood inspired alcoholism. I walk back inside to make sure my lovable chaos is still intact.. and truthfully, to make sure I have whiskey for 5PM. I suspect I’m gonna need it.



A Year Later…

How did an entire year go by in a mere moment? Was it the lack of sleep or maybe the massive amount of love I developed for my daughter? All I know is this happened way too fast and I need time to slow down ASAP.