Dirty socks and empty pizza plate:
Pants on the living room floor:
Coffee maker already where the boy can reach it:
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GRAVY
- My first novel started with a mole. Yes, a MOLE - a freckle, a birthmark, whatever you want to call it.
- I was at the pool with my daughter getting ignored by our swim instructor when a lifeguard with a particularly ripped abdomen walked by. He stopped to flirt with one of the female lifeguards and my eyes flew directly to an adorable mole on the top can of his six-pack.
- "How cute!" I thought (among other things). "He looks like a character in a romance novel!"
- So I went home and started writing fiction for the first time. That was over a year ago and I still haven't been able to stop. GRAVY is the story of a suburban housewife who wants another baby, but gets a man with a mole instead.
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- I was married for 12 years. Now I'm divorced.
- Living alone took some adjustment.
- I changed my name. To my porn name.
- We have a week on/week off custody arrangement.
- I really LOVED being single while it lasted.
- Then I met a delicious bald bastard named Joel.
- We survived our first post-divorce Christmas.
- Being a mom hasn't gotten any easier for me.
- I made a New Year's Resolution to figure out spirituality.
- I wrote some naughty poetry.
- I went BLOND!
- I introduced my boyfriend to my kids.
- I woke up and quit my job.
- I fell ass-over-teakettle in LOVE.
- I wrote a book!
- I learned to embrace poverty.
- We all moved in together. Officially.
- Once upon a time, I was in an abusive marriage.
- But Joel isn't like that. He's a keeper.
- For a little while there, I was afraid for my life.
- Because I had a very, VERY scary stalker.
Manda loves to cook! (RECIPES)
- Potato Salad (for people who don't like potato salad)
- Basic Chili
- Roasted Cauliflower (Better than French Fries)
- Lemon Drop
- Hot Dogs & Eggs
- Cashew Chicken
- Mushroom orzo pasta
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- Man-pleasing Breakfast Casserole
- Simple pizza crust
- Parmesan Crusted Pork Tenderloin Chops
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May 06, 2006
Guess who's home?
Posted by Amanda P. Westmont on May 06, 2006 | Permalink
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LOL! Welcome home, Dave. ;)
Every morning I have to take Austin's boxer shorts and pair of socks to the dirty clothes hamper. I do not understand why he can't seem to get them in there himself... but he can't. I am so tempted to just leave them there and see how many days worth I'll end up with but I can't make it past one day. Guess I'm just OCD like that.
Posted by: Grechen | May 06, 2006 at 01:43 PM
cute coffee maker!
Posted by: Tuesday | May 06, 2006 at 06:24 PM
Still glad he's home?!
Posted by: Sheryl | May 07, 2006 at 11:13 AM
I think once the kids get big enough to really trash the place, they get better--no, wait. Boxers on floor? Check. Table covered in crumbs after he "cleans up"? Check. Big giant heavy work bag on the diaper changer no matter how man times I say don't put it there? GOt it.
THey don't get better, it just disappears in a sea of greater irritants!
Posted by: kj | May 07, 2006 at 06:20 PM