Don’t get your hopes up.

In case you missed it, I posted yesterday about the contents of my purse.

Fascinating, I know.

On our Facebook page, a reader left a comment that started with “That was way more interesting than I thought it would be.” And I thought to myself, “Well, that’s a success, then, right?”

I’ve gotta say – it’s probably best that our readers set their expectations really low for what they’re going to find on this site. Because – let’s face it – you never know.

You might click over and find yourself reading about my kid’s mullet, or about how Jenny’s boobs are lopsided thanks to her son’s nursing preferences.

You might see pictures of Jenny’s groceries or pictures of the piles of junk that adorn my daughter’s room.

There’s even a post in the archives called “In Which a Tote Bag Tragedy is Averted,” and don’t forget the time I asked a super important question about what to do with hamburger grease.

Seriously, people, this is life changing shit we’ve got going on over here.

So the lesson in this – if you haven’t learned it already, and chances are if this isn’t your first time here, you already have – is DON’T EXPECT BRILLIANCE. Do not come here looking for insight, poetic prose, or deep thoughts.

You’re not going to find those things. You’re going to find things like Jenny going to Walmart, me encouraging drug use, and us making idiots out of ourselves in front of celebrities. You’re going to find lots (and lots and lots) of pictures of Jenny’s face and of cooking disasters once described to a group of PR professionals in a swanky Chicago steakhouse as “worse than the inside of my uterus.”

And Jenny’s not only going to tell me how to live my life, but she’s going to tell the rest of you how to live your lives too.

LOWER THE BAR, people.

We have.

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Giveaway – Hershey’s KISSES Sweetest Memory

Kisses - 2/365

Tomorrow is Valentine’s Day, and there’s nothing more classic than a Hershey’s KISS to celebrate – so we’re giving some away!

Whenever I eat a Hershey’s KISS, I think of my great-grandmother. When I was really young – probably three or four – she lived in an apartment not far from us. I have only one memory of that apartment – the glass jar of Hershey’s KISSES that always sat on the kitchen counter waiting for us kids.

I bet you all have a Hershey’s KISS memory too. Leave a comment sharing your “sweetest” (see how I did that?) Hershey’s KISS memories and you’ll be entered to win four bags of them. You don’t even have to share any with your kids!

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Just tell your brother you love him, dammit.

Sam and I seem to be having all sorts of adventures on our drives home this week. Today’s installment is less nerve-wracking and has a less happy ending than Monday’s, however.

I’m driving along, minding my own business, when Sam pipes up from the back.

“Mommy, why doesn’t Kate like me anymore?”

Annnnnnd cue my heart shattering into a million pieces.

Of course I’m immediately all “Kate loooooves you, honey! You’re her brother!” but he’s having none of it. “She always calls me Whiny Pants.” So being the genius I am, I decide we’re going to call Kate up at home right that moment and let her set the record straight.

Because there’s nothing like putting an 8 year old on the spot.

I’m certain she’ll rise to the occasion, though, so we call her. On speaker phone.

Did I mention I’m a genius?

“Kate, your brother has something to tell you,” I said. “I love you, Kay-Kate!” he yells.

*crickets*

I have no idea what to do at this point, so I don’t do anything. We sit in silence until Sam finally says “Don’t you have SOMETHING TO SAY BACK TO ME, KATE?”

“You want to ride on my back?” she says.

At this point I want to reach through the phone and ring her little neck.

The conversation went downhill from there, and Sam never got the confirmation he needed that his sister does, in fact, like him. Actually, I think I confirmed his belief that she does not.

Yay me!

The thing that kills me, though, is that she does like him, and sometimes they get along so beautifully. There’s nothing in the whole wide world I love more than to hear them laugh together. I just wish I could make that happen with more regularity.

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