Dear McDonald's, You know how I feel about you. I know how you feel about me. José, the day manager, knows my order by heart. The te...

Dishes: awful. Toilets: gag. Dusting: insert annoyed, sneezing emoji here. Then there's laundry. I love laundry. Send me bright whit...

Math makes me clammy. In the presence of a percentage or an equation, I lose my bearings, get fogged in. When I'm suddenly on the hook t...

Shelby proposed after 9 months. We married 9 months after that. Nine months later, I became pregnant. Per tradition, after 9 months, our son...

Today is the first in a weeklong series of love stories. They are not bodice-ripper stories. They are not tales of tender romance. There wil...

When I woke up this morning, my bedroom was filled with starlight. Phosphenes, like slow-motion fireworks, slid across my field of vision. ...

In the world of parenthood blogging (and it is, in fact, a world — a comforting, sloppy, emotionally chaotic world) most posts are skewed t...