Author Archives: rkpaulus
Pink Boxing Gloves
44 Reasons Why My Parents Still “Do!”
- Mom loves Dad.
- Dad Loves Mom.
- Mom cooks.
- Dad eats.
- Mom loads the stockings.
- Dad loads the dishwasher.
- Dad grows veggies in his garden for Mom.
- Mom cuts up the veggies from Dad’s garden.
- Mom likes tiramisu.
- Dad buys Mom tiramisu. Continue reading
Gimme One Smore Squat!
- Read The Hunger Games trilogy, the Twilight series, and watched all eight Harry Potter movies. So wrong. I know. But time was a tickin’.
- Next, I rented Glee, Lord of the Rings, Transformers, and X-Men.
- Before beginning my movie marathon, I picked up ten bags of potato chips, five cheese pizzas, and three bowls of extra-buttery popcorn. Washed it all down with several bottles of Jones’ Soda and one Super-sized Oreo McFlurry all while bopping to iTunes on my iPod and Oovooing sixteen friends. Continue reading
BUSTED!…In a Good Way!
If you’ve been reading my Bloggity Blog, you know some basics about me. You know I’m —
My whole life I’ve been getting caught. Messing up. In school, my report card always read, “Straight A Student, BUT…. Continue reading
The Dangers of Distraction
Tooth Fairy Blues
Anyway, this particular morning marked the first dawn of our first lost tooth. My firstborn had carefully tucked her tiny little white tooth under her pillow the night before. Mom of the year forgot. When tear-filled Bubbles knocked on my bedroom door, I knew before she told me. I forgot the money.…
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Writer’s Block
Woke up this morning with first lines instead of ‘Good Morning’ rolling off my tongue. Went to the docta and the docta said, “No more sleepin’ with books in yur head!” When you live with a physician, he’s always trying to diagnose you.
Confessions of a Kindergarten Mom
Found myself falling…down, down, down from the height of “Hard-working Mom” to the depths of “Irresponsible Parent”. I hate this fall. If you’re anything like me, you’re a lot harder on yourself than the person you’ve bumped in this crowded line of life. I feel myself taking a nose-dive into disappointment with taunting words poking me on the decline: “I can’t believe I forgot my daughter’s snack? What kind of mom am I anyway? She was probably so stressed out when she opened up her backpack and turned it up-side-down looking for her snack. Sheesh.”
Operation Y.T.
“Now?” I ask. “It’s almost midnight.”