When your husband complains of an earache and stuffiness for weeks on end, you may want to offer up a bit of sympathy rather than rolling your eyes at him. He may just have a double ear infection, sinus infection and popped eardrum.

Just something to keep in mind.

{Sorry, honey.}

Lily has developed quite a sense of style lately, and despite not following the latest trends, I can at least appreciate a decent sense of style. And hers? It just ain’t a good one.

In theory, I love the idea of letting children pick out their own outfits and develop their own unique look. It’s so adorable to see kids marching around in quirky little ensembles like these:

Unfortunately, Lily’s outfits look nothing like that. They are always mismatched, usually ill-fitting and never seasonably appropriate. And she is adamant about wearing them.

Worst of all? I actually let her leave the house like that. At least on the days when I take her to school in what I slept in the night before. It’s only fair.

And to think I paid for this?

That’s the last time I let an acrylic nail wearing, scantily clad, frosted-haired whore near my sons. Mark my words.

{It’ll grow back, right? RIGHT??}

Any guesses?

{Updated to explain the little artist…}

The drawing was actually the first of a wedding series Lily drew. The groom’s tie had blown in the wind, hence the expression on his face. (You can understand his frustration, yes?)

Here are the bridesmaids,

and the flower girls.

It seems my daughter doesn’t need that therapy quite yet.

For the record, I saw an axe murderer. (Perhaps I’m the one who needs some help.) Your interpretations were so much better. Danielle cracked me up seeing Kanye West interrupting Taylor Swift– how perfect is that? I loved Lula’s Tim Burton take, Julie B’s sunblock advertisement and Jennifer’s idea that it was Lily’s take on my Scary Mommy logo was pure genius.

I think you all have a future in this sort of thing.

2. Take them on a surprise trip to the park before school.

3. Bribe them with the promise of hot chocolate with marshmallows,

and let them lead the way…

It’s about time. Hallelujah!

Moving used to be fun. Back in the day when there was money to be made with real estate and no children to pack up, it was a blast. We’d buy a place, make some improvements and move on. I consider myself a professional-grade packer and mover by now, and found it a challenge to unpack and decorate in a few days. It was exciting and thrilling and we loved it. Back in the day.

These days, it just plain sucks. The last two houses we owned took us forever to sell and we took a loss on both. Each was full of stress and disappointment and financial burden. The house we’re in now was always meant to be a transition house to get us back into the area before we decided on where to settle down. It’s not the right neighborhood for us and I’m anxious to put some roots down in the right place, this being far from it.

Now that we’re looking at a forever house, or at least a long-term house, it’s so much more complicated. Four or five bedrooms, a decent yard for the kids to play in, public schools that we’re comfortable with and a price tag we can afford. It’s almost impossible. Except, last weekend, we found it: The perfect house. A beautiful staircase, just like I’d always imagined. Shingles and shutters and glass detail on the door. A Jack and Jill bathroom for the kids, a sunny family room and the charm I crave. It was perfect.

Unfortunately, it was also perfect for the couple that will be moving in next month. The couple who didn’t have a house to sell first. The couple whose financing I am evilly hoping will suddenly fall through, allowing us to live in the house I can’t stop thinking about.

Our house.