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
Note: I wrote this a few days ago. On my desk, I have a photograph of my grandfather when he was young and stationed in Japan. He’s in his marines uniform somewhere on the U.S. base crouching on a grassy area next to a sign that says “keep off the grass.” He is handsome and…
Continue reading ➞ Keep Off The Grass: In Loving Memory of my Grandpa G
When two people decide to get married or decide to spend their lives together or get knocked up, instead of showering them with booze and lingerie or diapers, we should sit them down, hand them some Gottman workbooks and say, "may the universe be with you." Partnership and parenthood take an enormous amount of effort.…
Continue reading ➞ Disney Lies And Your Prince (Princess) Probably Needs Therapy (Because We All Do)
I haven't written here as much as I want or as much as I need. You see, writing is how I cope with life and my epically terrible sense of humor is how I make lemonade out of a batch of worm-infested lemons. Er, wait? No, that would be disgusting. Who the fuck wants wormy…
I have a lot going on right now. There’s the book, Naked (In Italy), a dog, a baby, writing jobs, and sometimes I have to sort of clean my house. Sort of. So much shit. Literally, with a dog and a baby my life is mostly covered in some form of doody...please help). Trying to…
Yesterday I came home from a little trip to a nearby cafe to find my dog, caked in shit. Human shit. Specifically toddler shit from a diaper he’d dragged out of the bathroom trash where my nanny had stuck her two-year-old’s diaper for reasons I have yet to understand and she’s lucky I love her…
At least I thought I might die. Two days ago I was minding my own business when suddenly I couldn't breathe and my heart started pounding and my head felt woozy. Web M.D. said, "you're dying," and I climbed into bed and stared at the ceiling until the bad feeling passed an hour later. I…
I've tried to make plans with a handful of people in the last few weeks and the conversation always goes something like this: Me: Let's go blank, blank, or blank. Their reply: You'll have a baby next year. First of all, I don't need a reminder that I'm 32 weeks pregnant. Trust me, nobody needs…
If pregnancy makes me anything, it's horny. The first trimester was like being transported back to my teenage body where all I thought about was humping whatever crush I had at the time: Brad Pitt, Leonardo DiCaprio in Romeo and Juliet, that one guy at school with the hair. From about 6 weeks pregnant until…
For the first few hours after I found out that I was pregnant, I was super excited. We'd been trying for months and had just started talking with the doctor about fertility help. After all, I'm no spring chicken and there was all that vodka in my twenties and who knows what I'd managed to…
Continue reading ➞ This is What it’s Like to be Pregnant and Afraid
M. E. Evans 