Porchlight Paintings: Take My Husband, Please

You want him. You want his oil paintings. You can have his oil paintings. You can’t have him. Welcome to Porchlight Paintings!

Continue Reading 21 comments July 31st, 2006

Please God let there be a chicken

Panic from the kitchen. “SOMETHING’S GOING ON IN HERE! JENN? THERE’S…IT’S…DO YOU KNOW WHAT’S HAPPENING IN HERE?”

“Yes,” I say. “The oven is on. And the stove is on.”

Pause from the kitchen. Then: “And you…I mean…?”

“Yes,” I say. “I know. I turned them on.”

Continue Reading 41 comments July 27th, 2006

The Flower, a poem by Sophie

When she is not busy turning me into Willem Dafoe, she writes beautiful poetry.

Continue Reading 25 comments July 23rd, 2006

If you like Platoon but hate Tampax, get out of here, soldier

Today’s episode: Another topic as yet unmined by Parenting Magazine.

Continue Reading 34 comments July 21st, 2006

Being Jenny Malcontent

Ty Pennington, as you may have noticed, has not been to my home. I am Miss Cranketta McCrankypants about Ty Pennington. Some of you will be cranky that I am cranky, but you are probably the same ones who say things like “You can’t help who you fall in love with!” Well, you can’t help what makes you cranky and miserable either, so remind me how fortunate I am later in the week.

Continue Reading 63 comments July 19th, 2006

Spot visits blog, scolds Jenn for lack of participation

Scoldings, scoldings, everywhere!

Continue Reading 22 comments July 14th, 2006

Mother attends daughter’s book group, scolds daughter for lack of participation

“I was surprised at how quiet you were. I suppose that’s probably because you didn’t finish the book.”

Continue Reading 23 comments July 11th, 2006

Start spreading the germs / They’re breeding today / It wants to be a part of me / New York, New York

I have ruined my daughter completely. If she wasn’t doomed to a life of neurosis and germ-phobia before, oh, she is now. We had a few Kodachrome-worthy mother-daughter moments in NYC, sure, but overall? Not so much. I could not relax, because the child was touching everything. Within an hour of our arrival at Penn Station, I could no longer see my child’s hands. In their place were two glowing petri dishes crawling with urban wretchedness.

Continue Reading 50 comments July 5th, 2006

Taxicabs and kids?

I feel like all I ever do is ask you guys for advice. This is turning into sort of a Dear Heloise column, except Heloise is the clueless, neurotic one with splintery floors and bad wallpaper.

Dear Heloise, You’re a wreck. How could you not consider polyurethane? Sincerely, Us.

Continue Reading 42 comments July 1st, 2006