She's 19 months old (8 or 9ish days ago). Her hair is the love child of Farrah Fawcett and Medusa. Her personality is the love child of Farrah Fawcett and Medusa. Sometimes I'm like "my kid is so fun and so beautiful and everyone loves the charismatic and lovely Rainie!" and sometimes I'm like "I think she's going to kill me." Because, you guys. This month was a lil nuts. I want to start with a story. In January of 2024, I attended the 30th-ish birthday party of her Aunt Shes

The Goose is officially 18 months old. 1.5 years. 1 and 1/2 years. 78.5 weeks. 549 days. She skis on the real mountain. She breaks things. She can swing from handlebars higher up than last month. She grows more powerful each day. Her knack for being a “good eater” has become both ferocious and volatile — a real pendulum swinging from avoiding food altogether to devouring even the rind of a citrus fruit. I walked into to the kitchen the other day where she had scaled the barst

The Goose turned 17 months on Sunday. She got her second ear infection this past month, a diagnosis that pairs nicely with four molars simultaneously poking through. Her angel doctor (and mother to three) even proclaimed that this was "a bit aggressive". To say sleep has been touch and go would be an understatement. What day is it again? I had my own birthday this month—a big ole 39. One more year, then I'm going to splurge on custom orthotics and some nice hair dye. I still

I love fantasy. I like Science Fiction. It takes a real talent to write Science Fiction I could devour, as all too many nerds out there get caught up in the science part and forget they’re writing a story. If the fiction feels like a textbook, I am out. Buh bye. Mr. Sanderson. You were a bit of a nerd on this one, sir. wags finger It doesn’t help that my first Sanderson book wasn’t one of his true fantasy series reads. It was Tress of the Emerald Sea, something he wrote as a