This morning, I woke up with a tattoo on my finger and a massive headache -- which is either the beginning of a great story or an average day of motherhood. The tattoo is a Luche Libre style Spider-Man face that covers the pad of my thumb, temporary decals that were leftover from Valentine’s Day cards my son gave to his classmates a few weeks ago. Unlike years past, I actually remembered to buy valentines

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Thanksgiving is this week, which is surprising because I could swear it was just August and I was standing in Staples, arguing with my 5 year old about eating Play Doh. For the record, I was against it; he felt vaguely tempted by the label “non-toxic.” If you’ve been looking for me for the past two months, I’ve been driving in circles -- which is both a brutally honest job description and the most apt

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Summer is unofficially upon us. My preschooler is done with school and pining to go back. My high-schooler is in the midst of finals and whining to get out. But, before we get any further into the season, I should apologize now. I spent the summers from my sophomore year of high school through my junior year of college lifeguarding at a pool club, which is the best summer job ever if you love wearing

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Last Saturday afternoon, after much hype, my youngest son attended a friend’s 5th birthday party. It was a karate party and the children on the mat, all darting legs, arms and earnestness were adorable to watch. My son, who had been looking forward to the party all week, had become convinced that he would emerge from the hour a full-fledged ninja. He had spent the days leading up to the party slinking around the family

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Act I, sc i Me: (trying to distract him) OOH, is it snowing yet? 4 yo: (mumbles) I don't know. Me: (pointing to the window) Maybe you should check... 4 yo: I can't. I don't have an iPhone. end scene. If in the last week we’ve run into you at school, in the supermarket, at the playground, in church -- or if you simply live within a two state radius of New Jersey -- then I’m sure you have heard: my

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Act I, sc i Trainer: Okay, ladies! We're going to do a quick jog around the studio... Me: (whispering to my friend) Crap! I don't run. Trainer: Move those arms, ladies. Pump your arms! Me: (running, panting and moving my arms) Trainer: Jen G.!!! (looking at me) What are you doing?! Me: (running, panting, moving my arms faster) Trainer: You're running, Jen, not chopping vegetables. End scene. Yesterday, I was fortunate to meet up with a few old friends for

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