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OMT

Chatting with a dear pool friend the other day and she - with her most beautiful perspective on life and rolling with the punches - tells me that she and her husband call it “OMT.” You read that right. Not OMG. OMT. As in a car repair costs $600 more than you expected. My response would be OMG! but her response would be “OMT.” That’s “One More Thing.” It’s always OMT, isn’t it? One more thing to do before you shut down for vacation. One more thing to grab at the grocery store. One more car repair, house repair, human repair appointment to make. One more load of laundry, dish in the sink, thing to do. Think of those days that you are *almost* out the door and then someone spills their breakfa

Fast Times

This summer is literally FLYING by. Swim team season is over. School supplies and fall clothes are in every store. My children have misplaced several beach towels, at least 2/3 of the goggles we started the summer with, and our new favorite at-home activity is finding someone’s missing charger. What we need up in here is a change of scenery - and so we are headed to the Outer Banks with four families (that’s 8 adults and 11 kids) in one big house with a pool, eight bedrooms, a short walk to the beach and the town, and 42 trips to Costco to get ready. Who’s bringing what and how much it costs has been the driving conversation in a text chain that is spanning what feels like decades. One famil

Mom Eyes

Something has gone missing. AirPods (why does something that costs so much have to be so small?), cleats, this one’s hat, that one’s wallet. Blame is tossed around like a game of hot potato - siblings, friends, me, or my personal favorite - blaming the housecleaner. Ummmmm, no, watch that entitled mouth. The housecleaner dusts and vacuums. She does not move your stuff that should be put away and that you are more than capable of keeping track of. Please. And once again, Mom to the rescue. With her super tricky Mom Eyes, she can see past the detritus in her path to locate the missing car keys under the mail on the pile on the counter, where you just tossed it all in a heap when you came in.

Slow Down

Summer, what’s your hurry? We are just getting settled into your lazy ways and suddenly it’s already approaching mid-July. Lands End is sending me ads for backpacks and lunchboxes and I bet the big displays of school supplies are almost ready to be rolled out at Target. And I am NOT READY. Not ready for three middle schoolers, not ready to even think about setting alarms and definitely not ready nope not a bit ready for homework and the high school application process. Instead, I’m ready for more long pool afternoons that turn into pool nights, laughing with friends and handing out snacks to our kids and whoever else wanders by. I’m ready for more beach time, complete with crashing waves a

The Ultimate Courtship Ritual

Have you seen those nature documentaries that show how a bird fluffs up its coat of many feathers and does some backwards crazy dance on a tree branch to attract a mate? Or the fish that creates beautiful artistic display on the ocean floor, timed perfectly between the tides, also to attract a mate? I’m betting that if you’re reading this blog, you’ve already attracted a mate and likely have produced offspring, which is why you may need this guide to teach you one of the most fundamental of all courtship rituals: finding a new babysitter. Top criteria: gotta have access to a car. And a license to drive it. I love the neighbor girl who will wander over if I I’m in a home-based crisis, but on

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