I hate editing.
I’d like to say that rewriting the same idea until I get it just right is physically painful. That would be a more attention-grabbing statement than the truth.
The truth is that I just get bored with editing.
Editing doesn’t hurt. It’s not astronomically difficult.
It’s just not fun.
Because dramatic irony plays out in real life as well as on the stage, I do not generally enjoy stream-of-consciousness writing. I have to psych myself up to choke down a passage of Virginia Woolf. But if I had my way, all my own writing would be stream-of-consciousness…
Vanessa P., 6:23 PM
Hi! Thanks so much for adding me to this mom group! My six-month-old son, Charlie, is starting to eat a variety of solids and luckily he has displayed no food allergies so far. I’ve been buying jars of pureed baby food, but they’re so expensive! Can you recommend a reasonably priced food processor that would be good for making fruit and vegetable purees at home?
Kayla V., 6:24 PM
Awwwww I love the name Charlie! I have a Charlie too. She’s 33 months and SUCH a HANDFUL. Is yours a boy or a girl?
My baby hates to nap.
I can’t blame him, really. He’s at that age — four and a half months — where everything is new and exciting, and every bright color or dangling toy holds the promise of good times ahead. He is mortally offended at the suggestion that he should stop having fun and go to sleep.
We have a routine these days that sometimes works and sometimes doesn’t. I stick to it doggedly, because they say babies need routine. I think new parents need it too, if only to help us feel as if we’re doing something right.
“What would you do if you were stuck in one place and every day was exactly the same, and nothing that you did mattered?”
“That about sums it up for me.”
Every morning, Phil Connors wakes up at 6 AM in Punxsutawney, PA, to live the same day — February 2nd — all over again. His alarm blares Sonny and Cher singing “I Got You Babe,” the townspeople of Punxsutawney flock to Gobbler’s Knob to see a large rodent give a flimsy weather prediction, and Phil chases hopelessly after his beautiful, kind, and unattainable producer Rita.
Doomed to experience this…
Friends, Londoners, young men and women, lend me your ears! Dost thou desire to be a Lord or Lady, to flaunt thy Wealth before all thy poorer friends, to possess the coin to purchase such Extravagances as a single Orange? Read on, for a Guide to procuring thine own Riches lies here before ye.
Consider thine Ambitions with all Diligence. If thou hast learnt to Read & Write, make a List of thy Desires in order of Price. (If thou art Illiterate, think on thy Wants in a Dream or Something.) Choose the chief of all these Desires and make…
1. Maximum productivity. I intend to get a grip on life and start my day at dawn. Early rising is the key to success. (And I certainly know how to appreciate keys, the pinnacle of haute cuisine.) Why stop at six AM? Why not rouse my parents with my dulcet tones at five AM? Or four?
2. More exercise. These chunky thighs won’t tone themselves! In the spirit of multitasking and using every moment to the fullest, I will practice vigorous scissor kicks, leg lifts, and acrobatic torso stretching during each and every diaper change.
3. Dairy-free diet. I will…
Okay, probably all the cool kids are not recapping their year on Medium (and surely not everyone was kung fu fighting) but Roz Warren did it, so that set the “cool” standard in my book. Roz did four stories, but I am going to do five, because that increases my possibility for Extra Clicks by 25%, and I am not one to turn down Possible Extra Clicks.
Let us begin.
My top story of the year, clocking in at 1k reads (and 2.2k views):
A fun fact about this story: I wrote it very quickly, in about 15 minutes or…
My newborn baby was cuter than most.
I know what you’re thinking. Every parent is biased toward their own kid, right? But no, I’m really serious — my baby was objectively cute right from day one. The nurses in the postpartum ward told me so! Admittedly, I’d just been through a traumatic experience and wasn’t allowed any visitors, so maybe they were just being nice.
But I’m choosing to believe my baby was unusually cute.
He didn’t, as my best friend put it, look like a mushroom or a wrinkly baked potato. His skin was gently fuzzy and soft. His…
Lullabies? Rocking and cuddling? Soft voices and dim lights?
Rubbish. I will not be swayed by such pandering. I will maintain my reign of terror.
I am the relentless No-Nap Baby.
Kiss those sweet dreams of productivity and peace goodbye. Bid farewell to your clean house and your To Be Read pile and your cleared-out inbox. Accomplishing tasks while I sleep in a bassinet? Your unrealistic expectations are really quite amusing.
You see, I am not at all tired. I am bright of eye and bushy of tail. What care I for wake windows and sleep schedule predictions…
That title isn’t clickbait. I really did write my top earning story when I was in ninth grade, but it’s not a success story of childhood genius. No matter how I slice it, it seems to be a fluke.
When I was fourteen, I started participating in National History Day, a competition for middle and high school students that spans a broad range of topics and categories. It’s similar to a science fair, but with much more varied opportunities for presentation. Since writing was always my favorite subject in school, I entered the essay category with a 2,470-word…
Historical costumer, fifty-cent-word purveyor, aspiring humorist, and Oxford comma fan. I write essays about trivialities and rare Deep Thoughts. @sewistwrites