Mother Runs Essential Oil Diffuser in Living Room, Everyone is Cured

Note: THIS IS SATIRE, so calm down. I actually own an essential oil diffuser...and did you know that spell check isn't even cool enough to know that the word 'diffuser' is actually a word?!? I am WAY ahead of the curve here. Anyway--I had a piece published on MockMom, a section of Sammiches & Psych Meds. This proves that I really am funny, so you can all quit rolling your eyes at my jokes. I digress. I love the MockMom section; the satire pieces on it have given me some much needed laugther. I'm feeling really freaking excited to be a part of that community. Here's a teaser to my post, "Mother Runs Essential Oil Diffuser in Living Room, Everyone is Cured." 

"I put a few drops of orange oil in my diffuser, and suddently my toddler, who was just recently screaming for the blue sippy cup instead of the green one we gave him, calmed down. It was magic. He sniffed at the air, gave us a toothy grin, and then blithely drank out of the green sippy cup. Pure magic."

To read more of this post, click here!

5 Things I Hate

Note: Most of this post should be read with an air of sarcasm, so snap on your snarky pants before reading on....

I know, you're probably thinking that I am a HUGE pessimist right now for making a list of the things I strongly dislike. And maybe I am, or maybe I'm smart because the simple act of identifying these will help you to be a better friend to me because, it's all about me...I'm a millennial, you know. Plus, I've written a few posts on things I love, so....it's only natural to anchor those with a list of things that disgust me. Thus, a list of five things I currently hate:

Laundry: Honoring the Women Who Came Before Me

My mother reserved laundry for the weekends. My brother and I would have to haul our dirty laundry from our bedrooms on the third floor of our old, old Victorian-Farm style home to the unfinished basement. Our staircase leading from the main floor to the upstairs was curved and enclosed by walls that seemed to be holding their breath, so sometimes we'd just throw the piles down the staircase and collect the stragglers as we walked to avoid carrying the piles down the narrow staircase. The trek from our bedrooms to the basement seemed like a never-ending journey.