Pinterest is a website where you can save any information attached to a web address to specific Pin Boards displaying their image and a short description; much like a digital bulletin board that allows you to organize the beautiful chaos of the internet.


Hank: What are you looking at, mom?

Me: Pinterest.

Hank: Really? (scoffs)

Me: What?

Hank: No offense, mom, but you’re like so not a Pinterest-Mom.

Me: There is a such thing as a Pinterest-Mom?

Hank: Oh yah.

Me: But I enjoy Pinterest so why exactly do I not fall into this category of mom?

Hank: Because, like, a Pinterest-Mom is the kind of person who makes everything from scratch and then like organizes everything in cute bins with labels and enjoys cleaning.




Hank: And also you can’t be a Pinterest-Mom because of like your arthritis because hot glue guns and crafts and stuff.




Hank: But of course you know how to make things from scratch and you’re a great cook and at Christmas you make all of the decorations, like with a glue gun and by hand, but it’s like not your purpose in life, you know?

Me: Ohhhhhhhh!

Hank: Yah. I mean you could be a Pinterest-Mom, but you have books to write and things to do that make you happier.

Me: Meaning I can compete with the Pinterest-Moms, but their level of devotion does not bring me joy.

Hank: Yes, but compete only with a glue gun and artsyness and stuff. Cleaning and organizing and home decor…

Me: Are more your thing.

Hank: Exactly!

Me: So what you’re trying to say is that if we combine our efforts we’d make one Pinterest-Mom.

Hank: Yes.

Me: But who has time for that, anyway?

Hank: Right, not us! What are you on Pinterest for anyway?

Me: To research meal planning and prepping. Apparently, it is a thing your papa wants to do.

Hank: Oh my god, mom, papa is so a Pinterest-Dad.

Me: Truth.

Hank: Don’t ever show him Pinterest or every weekend…

Me: We’d be home-improving and hot gluing!

Hank: Yah, no way. I value my pajamas too much!

Me: Hot glue ruins pajamas.

Hank: YAS!



Photo by: Molly

Photo by: Molly


(10am on a Saturday morning)

Me: (my day having started 4 hours before) MaGoo?

Molly: (in her room with the blankets pulled over her head)

Me: Ms. Molly MaGoo, do you plan on spending the whole day in bed?

Molly: Shhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!

Me: (sitting on the floor next to her bed saying nothing)

Molly: Mama, go away. I sweeping.

Me: You’re sweeping?

Molly: Yes, I sweeping.

Me: You’re sweeping the floor? Must be sweeping in your dreams because you’re not sweeping this floor and your papa, mano (brother) and I would love help with the housework.

Molly: (dramatically tosses the covers off, full sass and disappointment)

Me: (still in love with my pun) Are you sweeping or are you sleeping?

Molly: (scrunches her face up like something smells bad) Mama, no. (tosses covers back over her head)

Pai: (from the hallway) You’re definitely Grandpa Snitche’s daughter. That was a Bern joke. That was painful.

Me: What?!

Hank: (from the hallway) I agree, mom. Too early, even for me!

Molly: Mama, I love you, go away. (sticking her hand out the blankets, waving) Bye-bye.

Pai: Now, that was funny. That is comedy.

Me: (joining them in the hallway) The student has surpassed the master!

Hank: But is she really your student? I mean, Amália is a different kind of funny. Different than you, I mean, you’re funny, but she’s like way funny, you know?


Molly: Shhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh! I sweeping in here!

(all three of us riot with laughter)

Molly: Awe, come on guys!


A Conversation with Molly

If you look closely you can see her diva sleep mask peeking out from under the popcorn she then requested for breakfast. #SaturdayBrunch

If you look closely you can see her diva sleep mask peeking out from under the popcorn she requested for breakfast. #SaturdayBrunch


Molly: (chirping from her dark bedroom)

Me: MaGoo?

Molly: Nope, I sleeeeping.

Me: You are?

Molly: I sleeping, mama. Go away. (pregnant pause) Please.

Me: But the day has long begun.

Molly: (disappointed) Awe, no way.

Me: I’m coming in. Prepare yourself.

Molly: Wait, my mask!

Me: (turning on the light) Your what? (walk further into her bedroom to find my diva three year old, tucked warm under her covers wearing a velvet sleep mask) What in the world?

Molly: (giggling, pulling the sleep mask up on her forehead) Foi mano (Brother, did it)! I just like, mano (brother)!

Me: (sitting on the floor next to her bed) There is no one better you could be like, in my opinion.

Molly: Good morning, mama.

Me: Good morning, my littlest chicken. How was your sleeping?

Molly: Good. How your sleeping, mommy?

Me: Glorious.

Molly: (giggling) Gloreeeisssssssss!

Me: But now that we are both awake I am finally able to do my most very favorite thing in the whole world.

Molly: What that?

Me: Tickling Toddlers! (wiggle my fingers in her direction)

Molly: (eyes wide in terror) NO! No mama. Stop.


Molly: (dead serious) No mama. Cold hands. Cold hands. No.

Me: (rubbing my icy hands and fingers together)

Molly: Not now, mama. Later. Cold hands, um k?

Me: Okay.

Molly: We go play with small things. My favorite things small things. (bouncing out of bed and toddling off)

Me: (trying to warm life into my perpetually freezing hands, ready for spring)