I love to write. Scratch that, I love when I have written. But all this promotion boloney that comes with it? Ugh.
I think I'm a pretty decent mom. I'm not perfect, but neither is Laurie Berkner, and she sings Victor Vito, and anyone who can fit the words rutabaga, tabasco, and Alaska in the same chorus is pretty damn close to perfect in my book. Sure, I yell at my kids from time to time, but... Continue Reading →