So true. Maybe you could set some reasonable protocols for her that focus on what you can do that helps the kids? 24-hr notice, she has to wait for your reply v. simply assuming, etc.

You’re not—there’s a documented attorney glut. I’ll throw out probation dept(?) A friend of mine did that to keep from going crazy and he loves it. Good luck!

If you’re still processing the breakup, just know that you could take some beginning steps without committing to the whole enchada until you’re on more solid emotional ground. You could talk to your obgyn re: a fertility referral, have some tests, explore your best options based on those tests, etc. Focusing on…

I agree re: not taking sides—you never know what might happen in the future. I’ve seen people who were crazy vicious to each other end up back together—and that gets hella awkward if you’ve taken sides.

The way you framed this as “transparency” out in the world is interesting and a bit poetic—I haven’t heard anyone express it quite like that. I’m a sucker for botanical illustrations—and I think yours is quite lovely. Enjoy!

Regardless of what you decide, it’s horrible to think of moving forward with someone you don’t trust and of whom you are actually afraid. The trust/safety concerns become even more concerning if you decide to become a mother.

Oh, and Holiday Affair with Robert Mitchum and Janet Leigh. My family leans heartwarming, funny and nostalgic until our Christmas festivities are finished.. And then the day after we binge on Monty Python to cleanse our palates

Remember the Night, with Barbara Stanwyck & Fred MacMurray. I love me some hard-boiled Stanwyck, but her vulnerability in ths film slays me. Funny and heartwarming and it takes place over Christmas.

This is actually perfect. Hef also has the stunted emotionality of an entitled 15-yr old boy—you know he just loves The Sweater Song...

OK, I clearly didn’t read this before I sent my first reply—’cause this is just next level badassery. Pedestrian pain in the ass behavior is wearying, but when executed with this type of panache, it’s kind of an art. It seems like you have a great perspective on the shenanigans, and of course, a lifetime supply of…

Wow — they were super pissed(!)

Paraphrasing F. Scott Fitzgerald: the sign of first-rate intelligence is being able to hold 2 opposing thoughts in one’s mind without losing the ability to function.

Oh, no — I still use Kiva! I thought I was helping women (I always chose women) provide for themselves, their families and their communities. I’ll keep an eye on replies to you in case someone has a better idea for us — what a bummer.

I’m sorry to hear that. I think my whole troop was dorks of one stripe of another—shy dorks, science dorks, art dorks, etc. In fact, looking back, I think our leaders were a bit dorky too! Dork power!

Wow, that’s horrible, and def not good behavior to be modeling to kids. I’m grateful that nothing like that ever happened in my troop—my leaders were really awesome. Honesty, if there had been pressure on us kids to meet “quotas” or something, my dad would never have helped out. And he would’ve advised me to not…

Oh, that never even came up—my peers def didn’t mind. And it wasn’t as if I still didn’t go out door to door myself. I think a couple of parents sold a few boxes too, but nothing like what my dad did. It was a joke each year.

If you mean selling cookies, we kind of liked it. We’d go door to door with each other, giggling in between houses. And it was something different, and made us feel grown up, because speaking to adults + money. I was from a mellow, smallish town, so I’m sure the fact that our “sales” efforts were received positively,…

As Lloyd Bridges (Airplane) would say, “ I guess I picked the wrong week to stop sniffing glue.” This is apocalyptic...

It's 2am, and everyone (was) sleeping — until I just burst out laughing at this(!)

This post brought back lovely memories of my father. He was universally beloved and he’d take my cookie sheet to his work and would have sign-ups for hundreds of boxes in just a couple of days. He didn’t even have to work for it—his daughter was selling cookies, and that was all his colleagues needed to know.