I did something today I swore I would never do. I bought an outfit for myself at Coldwater Creek. Actually two. The saleswomen at Ann Taylor and J Jill love me now too. Don't get me wrong. The clothes at all three stores are of fabulous quality. And some pieces are stylish and chic. But I should probably start saving for my mom jeans now. Because judging by the merchandise at these stores, my tastes - and my size - are now more...ahem...mature.

While I sipped my morning coffee, I gasped aloud when I read an article in my local paper about "girl talk." But apparently such conversations are bad for our health. You know what it is: when teens gather around a table, talking about the sagas with their boyfriends or their lack of money for the must-have shoes at the mall. But experts say "girl talk" can extend past high school. Watercooler chit chat about the boss and emails between moms on our kids sleeping habits fall in this category too. The article's author calls it "I wanna be in a mess, too" syndrome.

Today is the first day of the dance season. I could do without the early Saturday morning classes. Especially since Amara dances like her father -- no rhythm and no grace. But Amara really enjoys it. So we're going to shell out another $500 for lessons. Damn. I could have used that cash to buy a new purse and had money to spare. So as I bitterly sat waiting for Amara's class to end, I was reminded as to why I. HATE. DANCE. CLASS. Continue reading...

It's only the second week of school and I'm sick. I have this pitted feeling in my stomach when I'm approached by another parent. My vision blurs each time a catalog is pulled from their briefcase. Then I feel an emptiness only known in the depths of my wallet. Experts say I have school fundraising fatigue syndrome. The kids have barely read the first chapter of their science books. But it seems the school districts have fundraising ranked as a high priority. How is it that two moms have already tempted me with offers of holiday gift wrap and cookie dough?