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Iconic albums of my childhood: Summer Side of Life

I’m loving the hunt for special LP’s. I have a huge MP3 collection–and don’t get me wrong, I love my MP3’s. But since getting a new record player for Christmas I’ve been on the hunt for special albums. Remember the Seinfeld “sponge-worthy” episode? I’m into “vinyl-worthy.” I’m having a decidedly wonderful time scouting out the…

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Trauma, thy name is fat lip

Nothing scares a parent like a child who gets hurt. Chris and I had our first official trauma last Thursday. It involved a clay pot and an almost-three-year-old who doesn’t like to watch where he’s going. Lather, rinse, let’s NOT repeat.

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John Hughes. He spoke to all of us 30-somethings.

John Hughes died today. Marking the passing of a man whose movies splayed my teen years out there for everyone to see. Was I the princess? Was I the athlete? Was I the basket case? Does it matter? Hughes made it okay to be whoever you were. No matter what. In the immortal words of Ferris Bueller, “Life moves pretty fast. You don’t stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it. ”

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