Writer Of Things
It's always hard to jump back into blogging after a busy spell because there's so much I want to write, I don't know where to start. So I'm just going to go for it and summarize all of the things in a sort of update style listicle of all the things that are making me…
Continue reading ➞ Asbestos, Tampons, and Intensity: A Mother’s Daily Journey
The other day a rare thing happened, and I got an hour to myself to hang out with one of my very good friends. We got coffee and chatted about his daughter getting married, my vampire novel in the works and how it might have an offensive amount of my real life in it, and the difficulty…
Continue reading ➞ Found This Terrifying Painting for my Guest Room.
Before I found a therapist I liked and could trust, I didn't know much about mental health aside from what I'd learned in AP Psychology in high school (which was taught from an outdated nineteen-eighties textbook that had pictures that currently brings to mind murder documentaries. It essentially demonized anyone with an atypical brain or life experience and loved using language like "chemical imbalance" which is no longer a thing professionals use. I also learned a lot about mental health from movies that usually did a terrible job accurately portraying what it's like to struggle with things like anxiety or depression. I knew next to nothing about self-care, trauma, or the symptoms of things that I actually lived with every day.
I was recently traumatized by a demon death bird from hell and because I hate to sit with these horrors alone, I thought I'd share with you. Like a form of bloggy Trauma Bonding. My son and I were in the backyard the other day raking an area that had become overgrown with weeds so…
And then suddenly something snapped in his baby brain and he turned and charged a pod of tots like a bowling ball headed for the pins...toddlers were airborne and flying.
Eighties parents were like, "Okay kids, you're going to stay with this lady named, er, Barbara, I think? Anyhow, be back later. Don't be a cry baby, Jesus christ, she's not scary, some ladies just like to hold a flaming torch to match their HORNS FROM SATAN."
When I found out I was pregnant, I panicked and ran out to buy a billion books on parenting and pregnancy. I'm a reader. A nerd who researches everything. Mostly because I realized a long time ago that I mostly lack common sense and need ideas on how to function as a basic adult in…
Continue reading ➞ Jesus Christ, Nancy: Parenting and Trolls
I wrote an Instagram post about my writing process because I've been doing some new and scary things (writing fiction for the first time alongside my second memoir), not because I'm an expert because holy shit I’m not (just look at all of the mistakes in this post, by the end you’ll be like holy…
I had to temporarily step away from blogging for a minute. Mainly because my toddler stopped napping for two weeks and has been secretly flushing toys down our toilet and the toilet exploded and rained crap water from the top floor and through a light fixture to the bottom floor. It was...so shitty (ha ha!).…
Out of nowhere my toddler looks over and was like, "Your hair is gross." And then goes, "Wash your boobs." First of all, tot, you literally tried to lick the dogs butt today so I'd be careful about calling people gross. Glass house, kid, glass house.
M. E. Evans 