“Mom, I want a Mac laptop for Christmas.” My eleven-year-old is sitting in the kitchen slurping up Cheerios he’s dumped halfway across the table. “Oh, and a Playstation 2.” I throw him a dish cloth and ...Read More

“Mom… the phone’s for you!” I wave my hands frantically and mouth the words, “…not here! I’m not here!” My ten-year-old son gives me an exasperated look and with mouth still manning the phone shouts, “Huh? You ...Read More

For those of you who have followed my column in the past, you probably already know that I am not a dog person. Yes, I have a dog. I feed a dog. I brush a ...Read More

“Moooom,” the front door slams shut and my 11-year-old son throws himself on the couch like he’s lawn-bowling. His delivery is something akin to a death announcement, “You probably don’t want to hear this, but ...Read More

My dearest G.E., It is with deep sadness that I write this. Despite our brief relationship, I want to extend my heartfelt gratitude for your many years of service. Thank you for your loyalty. You were there ...Read More

It’s wasn’t long ago when I was sitting on a patio somewhere with a girlfriend and commiserating over the tribulations of dating in the new millennium when the subject came up. “Why?” she asks me, lips ...Read More

It’s not like I try to be difficult. And don’t get me wrong, there’s probably some days in the month when I really wouldn’t mind drinking coffee with curdled chunks in it. Today just wouldn’t be ...Read More

“I’m baaaaaack! I’m baaaack in the saddle again! I’m baaaack!….” Put that to the tune and trash-talking, ear-haranguing lyrics of Aerosmith, and you’ll only half grasp the never-ending soundtrack I affectionately call my head. I’m ...Read More

I’ll be the first to admit that I currently have a strained and dysfunctional relationship with my washer and dryer. In fact, the intimacy we once shared is nothing but a fading memory of mine. ...Read More

“Mom, can I…” “Mom, can I…” “…have…” “…have…” “… some-ICE-CREAM?!” (Shrieked in perfect unison.) “JINX!!” Don’t let me understate it. Imagine the latter screamed at a decibel that rivals a bomb going off in a bathroom stall. I mean, the competition ...Read More

Girlfriends. Short of self-cleaning ovens, (okay, let’s be honest… self-cleaning kitchens) nothing rates higher on a woman’s gratitude-meter than a really great girlfriend. It’s not that male friends are bad. In fact, I’m sure every woman’s had ...Read More

“YOU… ARE… OUTTA…HERE!” Like an umpire commandeering home plate, I stand poised above the crib-board, one hand pointing at the door, the other arm scribing maniac circles in the air. My husband groans and starts picking ...Read More

“Is not…” “Is too…” “Is not!” “Is too!” Once again my husband and I are having a mature and healthy debate about something really important. Not the value of starting a kid’s college fund or where to go for ...Read More

Ta-dah! Let me introduce you to my bouncing, perfect-bound, bundle of joy… On the Bright Side… and other rose-coloured catastrophes. For those of you who are metaphorically-challenged or don’t have a clue what I’m talking about, I’ll ...Read More

“Fitted sheet?” “Fitted sheet.” “Top sheet?” “Top sheet.” “Dream-fit cotton pillowcase?” Mark passes me the dirty pillowcase I threw on the floor and I groan. “No, the clean pillowcase, Doctor Distracto. If you’re gonna help me, and you must, you need ...Read More

So, I’m having a pre-Easter breakdown. You know, one of those head-spinning, gob-drooling, green-stuff-puking episodes. It kinda makes The Exorcist look like Walt Disney and Linda Blair look like Kathie-Lee Gifford. It’s about as pretty as ...Read More

When it comes to the battle of the bulge, I hadn’t seen the extent of male/female rivalry until I found myself in the middle of another couple’s weigh-in/domestic dispute. “Come on, darling…I guarantee it. You lose ...Read More