Wait! You haven’t heard??!!

It’s true!

We’ve moved!

Well…we’ve moved across the interwebs & settled into our own little domain:


(ZOMG we’re a real dot com now, win!)

So adjust your bookmarks & join the party over there…same Ladies, same snark, same flights of fancy & posts about shenanigans. It’s still so much fun & maybe even more so cause it’s gonna be so pretty. SO! PREEEETTY!


Where the cool kids are.


The Evolution of Family Game Night

I had the genius idea this year of trying board games with the girls for the first time. Why never before this? My Ladies have attention-span issues. By which I mean their attention-spans are missing. Almost entirely. And when somewhat forced into sitting and paying attention and obeying absolute rules well…let’s say things start on a wicked tailspin which usually ends up in an argument and tears of some kind. Hardly the family bonding experience shown on TV, right? I chalked it up to their young ages & cried into my Cheerios that we would never be as perfect as other families.

Just kidding…I don’t eat Cheerios.

Candyland went swimmingly well. Once Annika understood that the tolerance of her blatant cheating was pretty slim, we flew through a few games of that without incident. Woot! Definitely recommend for the 4-6yrs age group. It’s quick, it’s pretty straight forward, there’s no reading & no strategy needed. Hell, it’s perfect for me after a long workday. Here comes the disclaimer: any younger than 4? Certain disaster. Maelle was all over the fucking place. And I mean that literally. Homegirl was walking the Candyland board to the shrieking ‘NOOOOOOOOs’ of her sisters. So when we decided one night to graduate the older girls to The Game of Life (my favourite), the only stipulation was that Mae had to exit the premises.

goodnight, Fun Governor

And then it was down to some serious business. We let the Ladies each choose a car colour, and if you’ve ever been a girl (weird…) you’ll understand this is no easy task. Both our Ladies chose to go to college, which we were extremely proud of until we noticed that each of them separately landed on the Spring Break: $5000 square. Cue Daddy side-eyes and plans for, once again, placing all Higgison offspring in a bubble.

It’s an interesting lesson to watch your kids pause when you ask them, whether when stopped at the church to get married, if they’d rather have a boy or girl to join them in their car. We make them name their life partners and talk a little about the wedding. They’re girls, this is possibly the most enjoyable part of the game. And I’ll  be able to tell them they’ve been planning their weddings since 2012.

We take out some portions of the game. There are no stocks, everyone just chooses one career card, one salary card and one house. No one pays for their house…it’s like a fuckin utopia over here. I’m always incredibly impressed to see them count and add and subtract their money when it comes time to pay for things like car repairs and a baby nursery.

There are a lot of discussions about perfection and dreams and babies and taxes and some of it flies right over their heads and some of it gives them pause and produces the coolest answers. I was pleasantly surprised by the way they seemed pretty genuinely engaged by the different tiles they got to land on. When given the choice, we always chose babies…every time. Even Daddy. And in this particular game, each one of us had a baby boy in our car- the quintessential fantasy life for this family:)

I declare Family Game Night as a complete & total success. Even if that means that we had to let Annika speed through the last half of her life because she just could not be bothered to pay attention and spin. And even if that meant Bella was bent out of shape that Daddy retired before her and got 100K…we were able to ensure her that the chances of that happening in real life were slim to likely none. Don’t worry, that lifted no one’s spirits. I really can’t even recall who had the most money or the nicest house or the best job. But then…that’s kind of the point really, right? Who even cares?

What happens when they just stop listening?

We’ve hit a snag in the Higgison Home of Laughter and All Things Goodness Related.

Our daughters? They have ceased the listening.

And, to add insult to injury, they have increased the arguing and the sass and the talking back. It’s…exhausting. Just plain exhausting in every way.

I try very hard to see this as a ‘stage’, to employ all resources at my disposal and properly parent my way through this. But I gotta be honest…that shit ain’t flyin anymore. It’s incredibly frustrating to repeat yourself over and over and over again and then to try to talk over a yelling four-year-old without yelling yourself. And the repetition…oh god if that girl says things once she says them twelve times, always rooting around for the answer she’s looking for. It’s all I can do not to just turn around on my heels and slam the door. (which, I may have done on occasion. Shut it.)

I don’t GET IT! We try everything! We talk about feeeeeeelings, we acknowledge their personal struggle, we listen to them, we talk calmly, we explain, we explain, we explain a-fucking-gain-zomg-kid-what-are-you-not-hearing?? It seems like we’re in this frustrating holding pattern of trying to stick to our guns and them pushing back at every turn.

Example. Let’s set the scene: it’s last night at bedtime, we’ve given them a warning that it will be time for bed soon. We’ve done the whole routine- meds, bottles, blankets, pjs, book reading, snuggle time in Daddy’s bed, yadda, yadda, yadda- they settle in. For like 10 milliseconds. Then Bella is up talking about a mystery mosquito bite that no one can find & a weird rash on her shoulders…that somehow hasn’t bothered her until right now. Mae has  come bounding down the stairs and chased the cat into the basement. Nik is crying about…oh, pick something. Ryan gets them all settled again, Bella in her room, the younger two together in our room. All is calm. For like 10 milliseconds. Giggling, yelling, banging on walls- all signs that no sleeping is about to occur.

It’s so…exhausting. It just is.

The constant fighting back and disagreeing just grates at your nerves when it’s gone on for too long. And it’s gone on too long here. Now we anticipate what’s going to happen and we’re barely ever proven wrong. In fact, I’d go so far as to say it’s a 100% chance that bedtime will never go smoothly from beginning to end. End being: all three fall asleep.

So what’s the answer? Do we put on more resistance? Do we just keep on keeping on, explaining and talking and a few louder-than-usual GOOD NIGHTs? Do we change up a routine, start the process earlier (which really I don’t want to do because then we’d get like 2 hours with them at night and 1 of those is eating dinner)??

I’m asking you, literally. Does this happen in your house? Do you see a pattern with it? Is it just happening with some weird weather or time shift that I’m completely missing? And if you say this is ‘just a phase’ I might junk punch you. I know it is, but how do I get THROUGH it with all my hair still intact is the question.


I bet God doesn’t even LIKE football

Tim Tebow.


You are a pretty, pretty man.

Fig. 1a

 I can appreciate a man with the gusto to wear so many bracelets.

(but that’s a LOTTA bracelets, man)

I admit, there isn’t a lot about football that I actually know. There’s some throwing, there’s some running, there’s an exorbitant amount of aggression, and entirely too much of THIS:

love thy neighbour as thyself, eh?

(can someone please tell me if that is a wicked tramp stamp or some kind of camo Spanx for football players? Inquiring minds…you know…)

But from what I’ve been hearing, young Tim…you ain’t all that good at your job.

The thing is, I’ve been hearing a lot about you (shut up, he might be reading this. How do you know?) but it’s mostly about you-as-a-package-deal-with…well…with Jesus.

As recently as this past Sunday ago, I remarked on Twitter that God had so much work to do in packed NFL stadiums that it’s a wonder he got anything else done. So you, if you’re looking for Him on a Sunday afternoon? Go ask Tim Tebow where He is. Or Troy Polamalu. Apparently. I think it’s been sufficiently established here that I’m not looking for Him…but my suggestion to you is to flick through your TV Guide, find the stadium closest to you and point your pilgrimage there.

But don’t let Tim Tebow beat you to it. He’s got that market cornered.

Fig. 2a

Tim, I’m trying to be fair to you here. And I’m not going to bring up how crazy I think you sound, or how I could give a shit how many people googled your latest under-eye accessory, hell I’m not even going to talk about how you should probably just shut the hell up about your religion already and do.your.job.

Just be pretty.

That’s pretty much the only field where you might beat Drew Brees anyway.


*Geaux Saints!*