Let's start at the very beginning...

Here is a partial list of things I cannot do:

1. Host the office Christmas party AND keep up with the laundry
2. Work from home when behind on said laundry
3. Resist eating leftovers from said office Christmas party while pretending to work from home
4. Train a dog
5. Pack lunch boxes the night before in the hopes of getting kids to school on time
6. Love my husband enough to feign interest in Alaska-based shows on Discovery and History channels
7. Convince my father-in-law that he needs to add vegetables into his diet and go to a senior exercise class
8. Drink caffeine (migraine trigger)
9. Resist drinking just a little caffeine (1/3-caff Americano)
10. Waterski

If we're going to be spending time together here, I just thought you should know this about me.  Especially when most blogs are based on things that people CAN do -- like prepare perfect paleo meals with backyard-grown, organic, Omega-3/6/9-packed foods that all kids everywhere will love; write with poignant humor about dysfunctional family moments that make the rest of us feel better and inferior at the same time; create creative creations for festive friend and family fellowship; or opine intelligently and persuasively on the most critical political issues of our day.  I read these blogs.  I love these blogs.  This is not one of those blogs.

The fact of the matter is that I don't consider myself to be particularly funny or insightful or inspirational.  And it's been about twenty-two years since I was the smartest person in the room.  (I peaked early.)  

But I am a writer, and writers write.  And we research, and we notice things, and we remember the things we notice and want to share them with others.  Or, as my husband says, we eavesdrop on the world and then share information that wasn't ours the first place.  Well, actually he just says that about me.

So when my nine-year-old lowers her brow and chastises me, "Mom! Mrs. O manages to review math facts with us WITHOUT bursting into song!," or when my father-in-law tries to sneak the expired food out of the trash bag after I clean out his fridge, or when I reach so great a state of frustration that I think occupational therapy might be in order for my 10-month-old yellow lab, I'll do my best to wrap it up in an appetizing way in this virtual lunchbox.  My hope is that you'll find something familiar and comforting in each bite of the baloney sandwich.