When Little Guy was five, we lucked out with admission to a full time Pre-K program at a school outside of our zone. It was a year of tardies (I say without pride that I was notorious for those) thanks to our mile long walk that was not alleviated by the public transit system. But despite the daily trek, our first venture in school was great. Little Guy loved being at school. I loved picking him up afterwards...and it wasn't just because we couldn't be marked tardy heading back home. It was…

Step back everyone, I'm about to vent.



While I'd like to say it all happened yesterday, the truth is lately there have been a few events (and people who will remain unnamed) that have really pushed me outside of my happy, little box of passivity.



And then yesterday happened.



It really started the night before when I realized that my aches and pains weren't just from carrying boxes and bags from one apartment to another. I was getting sick. So Wednesday…

I lost my favorite Indian batik sheet while living out of my backpack in Paris. I always stop short of describing it as 'backpacking' since that conjures images of motorcycle rides to Amsterdam and eating prawns in Dingle with leather skinned Irish fishermen. That's not quite what I was doing. Actually all I ever did was just sit. Sometimes next to a fountain, sometimes at Le Telex on rue de Grenelle, sometimes just by the window in my chambre de bonne watching the wind blow flecks of paint…

I have always hated doing laundry, I’m just not that good at it. All the sorting and waiting and folding, and then there’s that stuff about detergents and water temperatures. I vaguely remember a line my mom once told me, something about a cold, dark room….or was it a warm, dark space?

Although I do clearly remember grocery shopping with my mom when I was about 18 years old, a good three years into me being responsible for my own laundry. She sent me for some laundry detergent and…