Letters, Words, Thoughts, Ideas, Stories...

Once upon a time I opened a book and read the words Mr. and Mrs. Dursley, of number four, Privet Drive, were proud to say that they we...

 I must not make muffins. I must not make muffins. NO MUFFINS, TIFFANY. I'm meeting my stroller posse in about an hour for our 8:30 st...

When I can't sleep at night, or when I'm waiting in line at the grocery store, or on hold with the cell phone company I mental...

When I was a wee imp my father used to tuck in bed at night and sing me to sleep with: "The wonderful thing about tiggers is tiggers a...

Yesterday the boys woke up at 4:45. They were fussy all morning, feeding off my own nervous energy. We were visiting the elementary s...

Writing with infant twins is hard. In other shocking news: water is wet, books contain words, new mothers lack sleep. Maybe it's that s...

Meet Churchill. The frog, not the baby - that's Brad.  Here's his brother, Winston. Hippo = Winston, Baby= Asher The...

I discovered recently that not everyone dyes their milk pink for Valentine's Day, or green for St. Patrick's Day. This baffl...

I love fairy tales, believe dreams come true, and the sign above my writing desk reads And they lived happily ever after. Last night ...

I'm living my life in twos right now. Two bassinets perched at the end of my bed. Two binks to locate when they drop from two li...

Back before there were Schmidtlets, we used to refer to their room as the NTB: Nursery To Be. It was my favorite writing room -- how can you...

I've always been a rules girl. Sticker charts were made for people like me. If I set the table I got a sticker. If I made my bed I got a...

 My last day of school was Friday. I've spent the past seven weeks very conflicted about today – the battle of exhaustion vers...

Today my class was supposed to be going on a field trip that includes a nature hike and sploshing around in a river, picking up slippery roc...

So, I have haircut issues. I have other issues, too, but today's post is about my haircuts. I don't like them. I mean, I like them...

Casa Schmidt is being invaded! Thankfully it's the cutest infestation that's ever occurred. Baby things are slowly taking over: ther...

I'm home from Camp Barry and slowly emerging from post-travel hibernation. I miss the buffets full of chocolate bread. I miss the pools....

I leave for the airport in 9 hours for the Goldblatt Agency retreat. I still haven’t packed – this surprises no one – and I still haven’t bl...

So, I tell you we're having some babies, I accept all of your congratulations, and then I disappear again. Bad Tiffany! I was actua...

It's been a heckofa long time since I blogged. Normally I don't make excuses for blog lapses; you just can assume I've been: A) ...