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Dodger blue, some tan lines and a husband who is not himself

So despite being viciously scolded for saying the Dodgers were in the World Series when they were actually in the National League Championship Series (another of my endless baseball blunders), the Los Angeles Dodgers are actually in the World Series starting tonight. Edit: I started this waaaaaay before the score was 10–2 in favor of the team from Canada. With that, my normally calm, composed, even “too cool for the room” husband will once again become a towel-biting, umpire-screaming madman in a T-shirt that’s older than both of us. The man is my husband. The T-shirt is a cartoon of a man named Orel (yet another mistake I made in my last blog) making the winning pitch in the 1988 World Series. Said T-shirt has not been washed since the Dodgers finally won again in the 2020 COVID season. He says it’s good luck — I say it’s a biohazard that somehow lives next to the perfectly preserved velvet box that held my wedding rings. It won’t take long after the first pitch before he’s pacin...
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An Open Letter to Dodgers Fans (and One Very Patient Husband)

First, let me begin by saying: I am deeply sorry. To the entire Dodgers organization, to their fans everywhere, and especially to the one sitting on my couch in a 1988 World Series T-shirt with a cartoon caricature of a man named Oral (no, that’s not a joke). A T-shirt which, during the off-season, lives in the same drawer as the box my wedding ring came in — and has never, ever been washed. Earlier this week, in an innocent comment reply on my blog, I casually (and apparently prematurely) mentioned that the Dodgers were in the World Series. They are not. Right now they’re playing the Milwaukee Brewers in the National Championship. A harmless mistake, right? Wrong. According to Bubs, this is the kind of cosmic jinx that can derail an entire postseason. Never mind that I was sure the World Series was next because the Dodgers just won some other series. Never mind that baseball season seems to last approximately eleven and a half months of the year. What matters is that I put it in wr...
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When Life Holds Up a Mirror

I make no secret that I met my husband when I was in middle school — in fact, I’ve made it part of my personality. Just like everyone else, my version of normal feels like the only way to live. I wouldn’t choose any other life, but sometimes you meet someone who makes you wonder, just for a second, what if? Yesterday, the kids and I flew home from San Antonio to Tucson. I’ve flown with two kids more times than I can count, but this was my first time flying with three. Normally I can plant myself firmly between Abby and TJ and keep the peace no matter how many hours we’re trapped in a plane or airport. This time, though, I had a six-month-old to keep fed, happy, and docile through a full travel day. As luck would have it, from the time we cleared security in San Antonio to the time we landed in Tucson, Abby and TJ decided they were best friends. They even helped each other with the activity books Bubs’s mom bought them. That left me with a unique problem: I had no idea how to strap in ...
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The Other Girl at the Eighth-Grade Dance

The kids and I are still in Texas — and as I said in my last post, if only Bubs were here, I’d be in heaven. I like to think we’ve done a really good job splitting time between my family and Bub's family. It’s especially easy since his little sister is giving us a place to stay (in our old house, of course). On more mornings than not, I’ll wake up to my mother-in-law appearing like a cheerful ghost in my room with a bright, “There’s my little munchkin!” before scooping Ashley out of her bassinet. I should be upset at the violation of personal space, but considering she’s mastered giving Ashley a bottle and lets me sleep until nine… how could I possibly complain? By the time I’m up and moving, she and my father-in-law have already taken the kids to Target, and they’ll come back looking as if they robbed Santa’s workshop. Since my kids are on fall break from school in Arizona — while all the cousins here are still in class — we’ve had plenty of time at the in-laws’ house. My son TJ...
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Another heart attack and 12th anniversary celebration via Facetime.

Hi everyone, As you’ve probably noticed, I’ve been almost completely absent from my online spaces these past couple of weeks. The truth is, I’m exhausted, and keeping up with the blog has had to take a back seat—there’s just been too much going on. On September 16th, my dad had a second heart attack. It happened to coincide with my older sister Jenn’s mother-in-law beginning chemotherapy in Dallas, so my mom and younger sister Jess were wrangling all the nieces and nephews when my dad basically dropped to the floor in the middle of telling my mom about his day. My mom is the calmest woman I’ve ever known—especially compared to the three emotional banshees she gave birth to—so when I heard genuine fear in her voice on the phone from the hospital, I knew I needed to be on a plane the next day. Ashley and I have been in Texas ever since. Thankfully, my older kids are on a three-week fall break, so they’ve been here with me since last week. If all goes well, we’ll plan on heading home O...
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A Movie Date and the Legend of Alabama "Danielle" Worley: Our True Romance

 So the last couple weeks have just been a little “off” for me. I’ve learned in the past year that these dips have a clinical name, and maybe that’s what’s been happening. Or maybe it’s Ashley, who despite being five months old today, apparently only slept through the night when she was tucked in by my mom or older sister back in Texas. Now, in Arizona, she stares at me in the early mornings with these big eyes that say, “I miss Grandma and Aunt Jenn.” Me too, kid. Me too. Sleep has been scarce. It could also be hormones. I’ve been lucky to avoid true postpartum depression, but I know from experience that my body doesn’t feel back to normal for about a year after having a baby. And honestly, my “baseline normal” is already a little chaotic. Then there’s my dad’s heart attack, thankfully “light” as those go, but still a gut-punch of reality. Bubs noticed I was a little off, so he asked if I wanted a night with just him; dinner, a movie, walking around like two adults. We made pla...
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Hello again! Back in Texas amid a family health scare and...life is never what you think it will be.

Hi everyone… I know it’s been a crazy long time since I’ve checked in. I’m trying to stay positive about a fairly negative reason for being gone. One thing therapy has drilled into me over the past year is that everything that happens to us comes with unintended consequences—some good, some bad. The past few weeks have been a clear example of that. The event that lit the fire under all the recent drama was my dad’s heart. I never want to leave people in suspense: he’s fine, he will be fine. For a man in his mid-60s, he’s in amazing shape—super active, super involved with his grandkids and his community. But at his age, reality sneaks in sometimes. I’ve mentioned before that he started having “wake-up calls” with his heart right around the time Bubs and I were trying to recover last year. I think I even said something vague about feeling guilty because my sisters were driving him to Houston while I was too wrapped up in my own stuff to go. Well, things boiled over in mid-to-late August,...
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