with Karli Larson
The transition from stay-at-home mom to divorced-and-working-full-time mom can be challenging, and sometimes very lonely. Throw in a few cats, an ancient dog and one very brave boyfriend, and life gets downright crazy. Join me as I talk through my thoughts and struggles, my miscalculations and my triumphs. We're in this together, you and I.
When I'm not writing here you can find me over at work on the TisBest Philanthropy blog.
My Valentine? Is London. As in, the city of. It totally hearts me, and I totally heart it back. We’re skipping the chocolate and the roses, but we are totally, totally going to make out, and I might let it go all the way.
No! Really! It’s TRUE! If you are reading this, I’m in London RIGHT NOW! Pip pip! Cheerio! Pints of ale! Pub lunches! Fish and chips! Double-decker buses! Cobwebby bookshops! Oxfam stores! Ribena! Adorable children saying things like “satsumas” and “knickers” in their darling British accents!
I am writing this post in advance, so it will magically appear during Valentine’s week, all by its cute tech-savvy self.
I am so excited about this trip, Readers, that I am quivering like the tip of Cupid’s arrow. I love my wee American lassies, but, oh, traveling alone on what could be a very, very depressing Valentine’s Day? Pure transcontinental, transcendental bliss.
First off: No “Mommy, I’m booooored!” No packing four hundred assorted snacks and socks and sweatshirts and toys and books. No trying to wipe a little wriggling poopie-bum in an airport bathroom stall while praying not to drop the entire family’s passports in the toilet.
Secondly: Who needs a date when you’ve got a great book, cheap airplane wine, and a window seat?
Thirdly: This vacation is pure pleasure—a gift from a dear old friend I know from graduate school. You know the kind of friend. The kind that knows your worst secret and loves you anyway. The kind that lets you in on her own worst secret, and knows you love her anyway. That kind of unconditional love and friendship knocks my socks off.
My friend married a very nice bloke (I said bloke! I said bloke!) whom I adore, and they have two sweet tiny lads (I said lads! I said lads!) whom I adore, and I can’t wait to ask them to repeat all sorts of words, just to hear them say it in their posh teeny British schoolboy accents.
I can’t think of a better post-divorce Valentine’s Day.
So Happy Valentine’s to all of you from across the pond. (I said across the pond! I said across the pond!) I’m so annoying! It’s so fun to be annoying! I’m going to have another pint! I’m going to be Mary Poppins by the time I get home! Just a little more drunk than Mary Poppins! But we knew she had to be drunk to want that job anyway!
What’s your single Valentine’s Day look like there? What’s the worst Valentine’s Day you’ve ever had…or the best?
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