PheMOMena

Oh, sigh. I try to keep things on THIS blog fairly light, right? I mean, I tell you all about my daughter and the new stages we are going through (BTW, we are all still assigned rotating characters from random ass Nick Jr. shows, just in case you we wondering). But, I find that what we did as a family today, along with some news stories, will take the levity out of this post. What can I say? We will be back to shits and giggles in the next post. Today, Luke Perry died. If you didn't know, he grew up a short car ride (think 35 minutes or so) from our neighborhood. In the early 90s, when I was barely a teenager, he was like the end all be all on 90210. He was hot and his hair was perfect and I loved him. (Didn't love the show, but Dylan... I totally loved Dylan). Last week Luke had a massive stroke. He died today, while I was in a meeting, at the age of 52. A few reasons why this freaked me out: 1. Hubs is 51, 2. Luke seemed to be in great health (and I am sooooo not curren...

Most days I am “mama,” hubs is “dada,” and our offspring is “Kensie”. Most days. Which is generally how we like it, since we pored over our baby name list and picked a name that had meaning to us and all that jazz, right!? Right.  Starting yesterday, Kensie decided that she was NOT going to be Kensington for the duration. She was on some ‘my name is whatever I say it is’ bullshit. Not only did she say what her new name was, but Mark and I got new names also. She changed up the game all over. Like, fuck my feelings forever— she didn’t care that I’ve had the same name for 41 years, that shit stopped yesterday! 😒😒 So yesterday, Baby K was Owlette from PJ Mask. I was Cat Boy (did NOT like) and hubs was Gekko. If we called her baby, Kensie or any other name besides Owlette she SWIFTLY sent the correction AND would not answer us until we used her proper name. Protests of “I Owlette!!” rang through our house, followed by this look that screamed “I thought y’all were smart, but...