Underwear Isn’t THAT Important, right?

One of the hardest things about being a parent is learning how and when to let go of the quest for a perfect child. I thought, when J was a baby, that dropping him off at daycare was the worst thing I’d ever go through. I remember the first day like it was yesterday… placing […]

Becoming Mom Material

Before, eons and eons ago when I was not someone’s mother, I thought that motherhood might not be for me.  I worried that I wouldn’t “take to it” … that I’d be bad at loving someone else the way they needed to be loved… that I’d be impatient and imprecise and in every way imperfect.  […]

Becoming a Mom

When J was about four months old, I took him with me to a UNC Alumni function at a sports bar.  At one point during the game, he spit his pacifier out and it bounced out of the stroller and down onto the dirty floor of the bar. I immediately picked it up, handed it […]

Surprisingly Perfect in a Not-So-Perfect Way

This morning I looked around my house, looked at the unmade bed and the borderline sick baby.  I sighed over the sink that needs bleaching and the floor that needs vacuuming.  I rolled my eyes at the hair bunnies, courtesy of my ever-shedding dog, and the Pop Tart crumbs scattered atop the sofa cushions. It […]

The Life in the Rearview Mirror

This morning, as I waited in the drive-thru line for my ridiculously named and priced coffee, I glanced up in my rearview mirror.   Behind me, a woman sat in the driver’s seat of a pristine white Lexus SUV, running perfectly french-manicured fingers through perfectly straight, long, blonde hair.  Her face was perfectly made up, but […]

If I Admit It’s My Fault, Will You Quit Blaming Me?

When J was still a very small baby, maybe five months old, he was diagnosed with reactive airway disease.  After about our fourth visit to the pediatrician in four weeks, my doctor looked at me and “kindly” told me that if there were any way for me to work it so that I could stay […]

How to Raise a Child

Everyone and their grandmother’s second cousin has an opinion on how to properly raise a child.  And those opinions start cropping up the minute you announce to the world that you’re expecting. “Don’t eat too much dairy or your child will have a milk allergy!” “If you want your child to be smart, play Mozart […]

It’s Better than Good Enough

I don’t do self-help books. I feel like I should throw that out there because it speaks volumes about what I’m about to tell you…. I don’t do self-help books; I hate non-fiction, for the most part; and documentaries, as much as I’d like to be all high-brow and love them, make me sleepy.  I […]

Breakfast with J

J didn’t sleep well last night and neither did I.  Granted, Husband took care of J all night, but I kept waking up hearing either J crying or weird sounds from my dreams.  At one point, I was convinced I heard a woman screaming as though she were being attacked.  I jumped out of bed […]

Can I Medicate my Marriage?

My marriage is in trouble. There. I said it. And it hurt to say. It hurts worse to know that it’s true. In fact, going to North Carolina while Husband went to Florida gave rise to the first time in a long time that I remembered all the wonderful things that made me fall in […]

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  • Creative Commons License
    Spilled Milk (and Other Atrocities) by Law Momma is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.
    Based on a work at http://www.law-momma.com.



  • I'm a divorced, single mom to a pre-schooler, a full-time attorney, and a semi-reluctant vegetarian. I work hard and when given the chance, I play hard... but I'm almost never given the chance.

    It's possible that I never outgrew 7th grade mentality, as I still laugh when anyone says anything that can be remotely construed as sexual. Let's face it, if you're not down with "That's what s/he said" at the end of almost any sentence, we're probably not going to get along all that well.

    I drink more than I should, I run more than I should, and I laugh as much as I can. So I'm pretty much winning at life.

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