Saturday, September 20, 2014 Elul 25, 5774

This week, I got a triple dose of my youngest son's yetzer hara, the evil side of his impressive iron will. 

I often swap terrible mothering tales with my friends, mostly to receive kind reassurance that I am not, in fact, Medea. But why are we so much more reluctant to share the stories about when we do something great?

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Oh, summer, I miss you already. My Google calendar, so sparse in August, is now a pastel-hued collage of overlapping events. 

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I feel like I'm at the point where I can admit that I'm over pretending to be into unremarkable things my boys try to show me, especially unremarkable things that I've seen 48 times.

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Musings of a Modern Balabusta

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