Jennifer Fliss

Tights with control top: We may have gone a little overboard. A few too many beers. Several too many pizza deliveries.

Chick Flick Cherry: If it’s about romance, it’s a chick flick. About love: chick flick. Maybe it’s about chickens. Poultry love. Either way: for you, I’ll watch it. So you can pop my cherry afterwards. My nail polish is just asking for it.

All the feels. If you take this out of context (and it’s never really in context), it sounds vaguely pornographic. No, not vaguely. It does sound pornographic. So a kitty and bunny befriending each other should not evoke “all the feels.” Otherwise please step away. Slowly...slowly...now go.

You wake up to birds chirping, just kidding, you don’t, because it’s February and it’s freezing, and also you have a kid. 

It's spring! That means it's time to start thinking about summer camp for your child. Or children, if you've got beaucoup bucks to spare.

Many people (rightfully) believe that women own their bodies, and that, therefore, they should be in control of their own bodies. So why do those same people turn around and try to define girls by their clothing?

On a dark rainy night, when our toddler was asleep, he set up Star Wars: A New Hope — who knew that was what it was called? — on the laptop. I, with a skeptical brow, cozy blanket, and my phone (in case boredom struck)...

Nothing says "I’m patriotic" quite like going to a wolf-themed indoor water park resort wearing your wolf-themed t-shirt. With your floaties on. And a beer in your hand.

Don’t flush the toilet. Don’t turn on the lights. This is a good time to either meditate or partake in that incredibly wise bit of advice to sleep when the baby sleeps.

Here’s the thing: I have benefited greatly from reading stories from others, the daring narratives of those who have histories similar to my own. We feel more human when we hear that other humans relate to an experience we maybe thought was our very own private hell.