The Chocolate Cake

They had a silent auction at the church to raise money for missions.

Little Girl (age 8) saw a chocolate cake that she wanted me to bid on. 


I went over there and saw someone had already bid $10. Before I could do anything, a friend bid $20. I hesitated, not wanting to outbid someone I know.

Little Girl came over to check on the cake, looked at the sheet, and advised me to bid $50.

She really REALLY wanted that cake!

I wrote $25, and of course my friend caught me outbidding her and said something.

I blamed it on my kid.

Then I went to sit down, figuring she might go back and outbid me. But Little Girl stayed by the auction table and guarded that cake.

When anyone came over to look at the cake, she gave them the stinkeye. Everyone gave her a wide berth.


Well. Due to my daughter’s thuggish intimidation tactics, I won the cake. For $25.

She was ecstatic.

We took it home and immediately cut it. Little Girl was in heaven.

Then my husband tried a piece.


“It’s pretty good,” he said. “How much did you pay for it?”

“$25” said Little Girl proudly.

“Hmm,” he said, chewing and swallowing again. “I’d say it’s about an $18 cake. We’ll consider that additional $7 a donation I guess.”

The Desperation of Summer

Summer can be long for moms, and this summer was a rainy one here in Alaska.

Whenever the twins couldn’t go out and play anywhere, they tended to expend their excess energy on indoor activities.  

Like fighting and destroying my house.

They were driving me nuts.

Once I was so desperate I took them to the park even though it was raining and tried to force them to play anyways.


It didn’t really go that well.

Love Notes?

I came home one evening last week and found that twins had decorated Boo’s door.


Apparently she wouldn’t let them in her room, so they were insulting her with post-it notes.




I skipped photographing the ones with illustrations of poop.

(You’re welcome.)

I guess it shows they are creative…

This Week’s Great Moments in Parenting

number threeTrying (in vain) to read a book while my son recounts a long confusing story he has already told me.

Can I point out, I was like thirty pages from the end of a thousand-page novel I’d been working on for a week?



number two

Turning up the car radio in order to drown out the sounds of the twins fighting in the backseat.

Does it sound better or worse to tell you it was the Christian music station I was blasting?



Laughing whnumber oneen Little Girl tells Little Boy to kill himself.

(In my defense, they were playing a video game. She wanted him to let his character die so she could have a turn.)


There! Now do you feel better about your own great parenting moments?



That Book

Don’t Take The Kids to the Dump

Recently I was hauling my trash to the dump myself (read about that Alaska problem here if you’re interested) when I saw an interesting sight.

Sitting on the top of a giant pile of garbage bags was a big pink and white stuffed poodle.


Did I say big? This thing was HUGE! It was probably four feet tall and so brightly colored that it shone in the afternoon sun like a beacon.

It stared at me with its giant eyes and begged to be rescued from the trash pile.


Even I, a mom who hates clutter with a passion and usually thinks stuffed animals are useless, could feel the power of its plastic gaze.


I said a silent prayer of thanks that my kids were not with me, They could never have resisted the siren song of that stuffed poodle.

As I was throwing my trash away in a nearby dumpster, a pickup truck pulled up next to me. A woman got out , grabbed the giant stuffed dog, and tossed it into the truck. I thought I glimpsed a gleeful child’s face in the back seat.

So another mom was adding to the stuffed animal clutter in her home.

Better her than me, I thought.