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22 Jul

Where The Wild Things Are

So we’re headed out to the backwoods again, because we love peace and quiet and mosquitoes and space for our feral offspring to run around just that much. Any last minute advice on how to kill bears, catch fish with one’s hands, get the conch away from the tyrannical preschooler, etc, etc, would be much appreciated.

Oh, and e-reader recommendations. I am totally taking my Kobo this time – risk of e-reader drowning be damned – and I need to know what to fill my library with. Nothing featuring forest-dwelling maniacs, please, or anything by Jon Krakauer. Although maybe a witty survivalist manual might come in handy. Are survivalists capable of wit? YOU SEE THE THINGS THAT I WORRY ABOUT.

Other things that I’ve been worrying about (for your reading pleasure):

1) Post-partum sexual identity. Yes, there is such a thing.

2) Post-partum sexual identity and co-sleeping. (Again, seriously: there is such a thing.)

3) Mompreneurs.

4) Facial hair (his, not mine.)

5) Facial hair (Bill Cosby’s. Also Mr. Drummond’s, and Mike Brady’s.)

6) The renovation of this blog.

7) The contents of my Epiphanie bag.

8) Whether or not this whole ‘going out to the woods’ thing is really healthy for my tech-obsessed psyche. Which means that it probably is healthy. Damn it.

(Also, hey – did you see this new awesometacular site that I might have had something to do with? GO, ENJOY!)

(And then there’s this one, which is internal to this site, but nonetheless new and exciting. SO BUSY HAVE I BEEN.)