Five years ago, I purchased a three-bedroom, raised bungalow that was in dire need of cosmetic repairs. It was my little fixer-upper, and she and I were going to get to know one another while I made her beautiful once again, while learning how to play with power tools. Five years on, and my little... Continue Reading →

Math. I am no good at it. Nay—I suck. I’ve slipped below suckage at math and generally stagnate at the point below which suckage can eke its slurpy, slimy function. My newly-minted teenager, my “wee man,” on the other hand, is scary brilliant with numbers. Last year, when his class performed timed math tests, the... Continue Reading →