Come Mother's Day, there's a lot of pressure to sing sweet songs of sunshine and daffodils, primroses and butterflies. To compose odes to our mothers, or to ourselves as mothers. To wax poetic on...

Edits! Now with more Bad! Amidst all of the discussion the other day about Bratz Dolls and whether Smurfette could take any one of them in a Doll-On-Ho-Doll Smackdown, there were a few gentle...

I am, as most of you know, on record as hating Bratz dolls. Loathing Bratz dolls. You know, in that railing-against-the-hyper-commercialized-hyper-sexualization-of-all-things-pertaining-to-childhood kinda way.Which is why there may be some serious karmic payback for this:Still...

Where the fack are the beer and the canteloupe? (enlarge for full effect)...

True Confession: I'm not a bad mother.In fact, I'm a very good mother. Probably as good a mother as it is possible for me to be, which is, I think, pretty good. I just...

I started the Basement just over one year ago. I started the Basement - my secret space, my hidden lair - so that I could write about the stuff that I didn't feel comfortable...

First Ice CreamSometimes, all you can do is take a picture, knowing that you'll forget the feel of the sun on your shoulders, the smell of the lake and the ice cream and...

(Edits and addenda below!) Yesterday, Her Bad Father and I had a disagreement. About child-rearing. Which, of course, he has a say in, even though much of the time I try to pretend that...

This is a passage from a paper that I graded this morning:Truth (can be likened) to a set of clothes, made to measure the man. In this way, man's measurements would be his own...