Wyliekat

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  1. Selma Hayek and the media's feeding frenzy.

    Well, hell - go, Selma! So Selma Hayek decided to take a moment and feed another woman's child. Go her, say I. Why? Because that child needed milk, and probably won't ever again in his life have the quality of nutrition she stopped to provide him. Is it a political statement? Maybe. But only in the sense that motherhood is political. Which it is. Most definitely.  Read more >

  2. I am the Why (Y?)

    You know what I just realized I do to my kids? I explain. I explain a lot. I border on sheer windbaggery, and may even unintentionally waltz into droning. Don't believe me? Ask me about the time that we explained the Canadian political process to a (then) eight-year-old Juniper, including nuances of pink (Lloyd) liberalism and the ruddier shades of orange. I s'plain. Lots.  Read more >

  3. The Third Parent.

    Most of the time, I go along in my daily life and don't really think much about being the third parent in Juniper's life. I know I'm not her mother, and I'm clearly not her father, so what's the big deal? I put away her clothes, feed her meals, provide her with love and plan for her future, just the same as I would if I were her first or second parent. She, like Rosebud, is with us for the majority of her time. So I, along with Buddy, parent her most of the time.  Read more >

  4. The mathmatics of a working mother.

    For the entirety of last week, due to work restrictions, I don't think I cooked one real dinner. As Buddy so aptly but it, "sometimes work doesn't leave enough Wylie left to make dinner." So true. There really is only so much of me to go around. And the mathematics of that are brutal to contemplate. Let's say I have a grand total of 168 hours each week to play with. Of those, I spend 40 hours at work and 56 sleeping.  Read more >

  5. A bit on the grumpy side.

    I don't just write for fun. I actually do it for a living. I'm happy to note that writing for a living hasn't prevented me from wanting to write for fun - as was always my big fear. In fact, the nature of the writing I do for a living makes it *imperative* that I write for fun. I need to be able to forget the rules, cease angsting* about typos and avoid sending things out for approval before I can take the next step. It's liberating to just spew my thoughts, tickle the ivories of the English language and post the resulting smorgasbord of silliness for the world to see.  Read more >

  6. Another blog confessional.

    Rosebud has a soother. She uses said soother at nighttime, and for naps. There. I said it. She's three and a half-ish, and she uses a soother. I expect imminent and fierce judgment from the Parental Powers That Be. A screaming whirligig of prejudice and pressure. A veritable fount of damning guilt. Perhaps that's only because it's already coming from my ex and presumably, his mother. Continued at www.wyliekat.com  Read more >

  7. An open letter to dads who leave.

    Dear sirs, Can you tell me why it is that so many of you cannot handle the reality of your wife becoming a mother? I mean, it seems evident to me. Together, you agree to place your unprotected penis into the vagina of your lovely lady-wife, with the understanding that pleasure is an adjunct to procreation in this case. You watch her belly swell with equal parts trepidation and pride. You watch the birth happen. You crow to everyone about how wonderful and amazing and beautiful your child is. That child Comes Home With You. And reality sinks in.  Read more >

  8. I confess, I am blogstipated.

    And I mean, my bloag (trapped gas in my blog) is epic, friends. I could be rented out as a romantic mode of transport across the African Plains. Macy's offered me a million to be a float. The Michellin Man is stalking me. I have a lot to give, and I had better get this mental cork popped soon, or we're going to have trouble.  Read more >

  9. Hold me, Intarweb.

    It's very strange how my feelings for my ex range wildly from complete apathy (the preferred feeling) to white hot, burning rage (the slightly less desirable feeling). But then, I guess it's not so odd, given that the white hot rage is generally brought to life by Rosebud and her feelings. Her dad was away last week, on business. That meant that she didn't see him on Tuesday or Thursday, as she normally would. She didn't spend Friday night over there, as she normally would.  Read more >

  10. Age-defying

    I was one of those insufferable teenagers. Not just because I carried a cloud of angst around with me, to act as the ultimate accoutrement to my entirely black-bedecked body. I was an insufferable teenager because of that, but also because I had no acne.That's right. Aside from the occasional zit monster rearing it's (truly) ugly head, I largely bypassed the whole unpleasantness of teenage zits. And braces. I was one of the lucky ones. Which is why, I suppose, I'm now paying the pimple piper. In spades.  Read more >

Wyliekat

Full Name
Wyliekat
Member Since
February 2007
About Me: 

I'm a relatively happy woman with a brain, cats, a household, family and friends. Oh and a daughter, who gets a good chunk of my writing energy these days. I can't help it - I'm just that into her. I've also survived separation and divorce with flying colours. I say this because when the ex left, I somehow ended up acquiring a Buddy (for life) and shares in his daughter, Juniper. I'm happier than I ever thought possible.

I'm also a growing interest. I evolve and develop new quirks with surprising regularity. I hope to continue this trend.

 

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