This entry is part 1 of 17 in the series Monica’s Monday MusingsEvery scrapbooking guru knows a photo carries inexplicable weight. The physical weight of my fully-loaded, 13 pocket, expandable photo file, holding the last 8 years of my family life, came down to a whopping 22 lbs 4 ounces. The burden and responsibility of...
This entry is part 2 of 17 in the series Monica’s Monday MusingsMy first failure in parental prep came when my first-born, Megan, was in the throws of crawling, which puts some WWF smackdown into the diaper change routine. I flipped her onto her back, whipped off the dirty bundle, and attempted to distract her...
This entry is part 3 of 17 in the series Monica’s Monday MusingsBehind the millions of married men who maintain a socially acceptable obsession for their football team are millions of mystified wives harboring one screaming fantasy; to live one day as the female embodiment of that team. Today my dream came to fruition. Let’s...
This entry is part 4 of 17 in the series Monica’s Monday MusingsYour mating call sounds remarkably like a woman’s scream… as her foot is being ran over… by her husband’s car…as he drives away to his new girlfriend’s place. Compare that to the nightly serenade of our native Gulf Coast Toad who sings to...
This entry is part 5 of 17 in the series Monica’s Monday MusingsWhen I was 10, the best day of my life was the first day of summer. I woke that day to the foreign silence of parental distance. I’d never experienced a morning without someone yelling “Breakfast!” or “Do you know what a comb...
This entry is part 6 of 17 in the series Monica’s Monday MusingsDear Spokeo.com, Apparently you’ve been stalking me and then pimping my information out to the electronic universe. If you were a creep leaving size 12 boot prints in my flower beds I’d have the legal grounds to pull you before a judge while...
This entry is part 7 of 17 in the series Monica’s Monday MusingsWhat I’d truly like for Mother’s Day can not be bought at the end of a grocery aisle on Saturday afternoon or massaged in by a trained therapist’s hands. What I’d like is to re-experience the little moments of yesterday that were whitewashed over...
This entry is part 8 of 17 in the series Monica’s Monday MusingsIt’s odd to step into someone else’s home with the full intention of possessing it. It takes effort to look past the owner’s gawd-awful fuchsia sofa, the wall-shrine of baby pictures, and the orange Gatorade stain on the family room carpet. You run...
This entry is part 9 of 17 in the series Monica’s Monday MusingsIf a girl can honor Thanksgiving with a pumpkin pie challenge she should do a little somethin’ somethin’ for Earth Day. I’m grateful my Pilgrim brothers and sisters made it through the winter (and even more thankful Squanto happened to live in the...
This entry is part 10 of 17 in the series Monica’s Monday MusingsIntroducing LetterZ, a new section on Femme Tales which will feature letters written to authors, publishers, characters, agents, editors, (really whomever we like relating to a book that we’ve loved.) The vision for our LetterZ section came from the tedium of reading “typical”...
