6 November, 2013  |   1 Comment

Remote hosting

I have been writing over the past few months, just very little of it was for this here internet website.

Oh world, you old so and so.

I’ve been writing for myself, writing for my day job and after that, I’ve even written some tips and tricks for PG Everyday. Most of them are about how to feel less bad about your life. Most of them might even help you feel better about life.

Hey little guys!

And there’s my ringing endorsement.
(It is good that I am not in sales.)

7 tips to conquer your goals
(I’ve achieved a fair number of them. Now if I could only turn that into gold…)

7 ways to introduce your kids to chores
(We’ve started, they have chores. And somehow, there’s more screaming and tears than I thought there’d be.)

And why I’m not feeling bad about this year’s store bought costumes.
(Hanging out took priority. It was that easy.)

Pinot told me this morning that change is the only thing we can be sure of. I should listen to her more.


One thought on “Remote hosting

  1. 1

    (Here is a story about mothers and Halloween costumes. I no longer have my own blog. I’m just gonna park this little Madeleine right here, HJ, because you’re the mother of daughters and I feel like it’ll make you laugh.)

    We lived overseas for the first five years of my life, so my mom made my costumes from scratch. Mostly because she was (is!) an incredibly talented seamstress so it was easy for her, but also just out of necessity.

    So for my sixth birthday, we were living in New Jersey and my mom had a mild cold during the run-up to Halloween. She sent my dad to the store and he bought a Pound Puppies costume (eighties kid WHAT IS UP) and took me around the neighborhood with my little plastic pumpkin bucket. Sounds fine, right?

    Here’s the thing. The only strong memory I have of that Halloween is thinking MY MOMMY IS DYING. I guess I didn’t really understand that “mom is sick, I’m going to trick or treat with you” just meant she had a cold. All I could fathom was that if she was too sick to make my costume, WHAT! she must be at death’s door! I have to stay brave while I stuff my face with Nerds and Twizzlers! Pity meeeee. My dad remembers being unable to cheer me up all evening, and not knowing what he was doing wrong. So tragic.

    So I think this means that parents, buy storebought costumes from day one to keep your kid’s expectations reasonable, right? Or it’s possible … JUST POSSIBLE … that I had an overactive imagination. I dunno.

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