When I was a child, I walked home from school through Mr. Farley’s lush green apple orchards. A fresh crisp apple was the perfect tonic after a long day at school. I made mud pies and tried to get my little sister to eat them.
I’m watching my two-year-old daughter running circles around my living room. She’s dressed herself in a leotard with stars on it, her tall puppy dog boots, and a pink silk square of fabric tied around her neck for a cape. As she runs, she looks
My sister calls me Inspector Clouseau because my clumsiness often leaves a trail of near-miss-disasters in my wake. For example, I might burn my hand taking cookies out of the oven at her house. I might yell and drop the cookie sheet on the counter.
My Oh My… Let’s see, today has been CRAZY! I can barely see right now because vinegar was splashed in my eye today. Annabelle and I were doing science experiments and we were investigating acids, bases, and neutrals, and Annabelle picked up the test tube
For the past 18 months, I have been on a hip journey. Because the whole process was so mysterious and frustrating, I have decided to write about it so other people experiencing similar symptoms can maybe gain some insight. In the end, my very mysterious
Dear God! I think I’m delirious from lack of sugar! Earlier, all I could think was that I should change the name of my blog from Marci-licious to Marci-Unhinged! (I’ve had loads of fun lately coming up with new blog names with my friends: think
Darling! I was called in to substitute teach yesterday at the kids’ school. I was in the art room working with 3rd, 5th and 6th graders. It was my first time working out of the house in nine years, and I agonized over my outfit–how
I taught a belly dance class last night to about 35 women in Manchester. It was an auction item for the kid’s school. This is after doing the pre-k cast party for Winnie the Pooh on Thursday, then the Harry Potter extravaganza 6th birthday part
My girlfriend recently saw a movie called Cabin in the Woods–she loves horror movies. I haven’t seen it–I hate horror movies–but I am living in one at the moment–it’s called PMS! I’ve experienced it mildly and heard about it for years (I am 43 after
The other day, my 72-year-old father told me he wants to get his chest and back waxed. “What? Are you crazy? Do you know how much that will hurt? You look fabulous just the way you are!” I replied. “My hell, Marci, I should be
