Now that I have safely entered my second trimester, it is with great joy (and trepidation) that I announce I am expecting a third baby in the spring.  Tyler was born in the fall, Eva in the summer, and Doug in the winter.  It’s one juvenile for every season!

It suddenly dawned on me that my future teenagers might not necessarily embrace having a 50-year-old mom with tattoos.

Why must I get threatened by the FBI every time I turn on my kid’s “Baby Einstein” video?