Heather Christena Schmidt

Mom, first * Writer, second * Misanthrope, always

I haven’t had much time to write for the last few months. I’ve written, just not on my blog. Still, I hadn’t realized how long it’s been since I checked in with you guys until a couple weeks ago. My daughter was playing a for-fun tennis match with a friend, and the friend’s dad asked …

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Today marks four weeks since my husband started his new job. Our lives kind of-sort of revolve around his work schedule – well that, homeschooling, tennis, and you know…daily life. But everything is sort of geared around his very hectic, often unpredictable schedule; if it didn’t, our idea of being a family would be waving casually to …

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I’m just going to say it: I have a major stick up my ass. It’s way up there, wedged somewhere in the deepest cavern of my innards. I like to call it “a raging case of OCD,” but sometimes I think it’s worse. I think I’m Type A. Although I’m not entirely certain what that …

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My husband and I, we are lifetime renters. We love the perks of renting: we don’t have to deal with maintenance problems, we have the security of living under the wing of another entity, and renting in Southern California is – without a doubt – cheaper than owning. In the volatile market out here, the …

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I never thought I’d say this, but I miss California. I miss the way you can go outside and not break into a sweat from the sheer heat and humidity, that is both oppressive and shocking – given that it’s only the beginning of April. I miss our salads. Oh do I miss our salads …

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We were driving around today, killing time and enjoying the seat warmers in our rental car, when all of a sudden I realized that we were in my hometown. The town I grew up in. Blast from the past, right? ERR. Wrong. Blast of puke from my mouth. Let me back track. Saturday we embarked …

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I’ve been spring cleaning for about a week. At first it was as it always is – like a new boyfriend. I was excited. My heart a’fluttered at the thought of trashing some of the crap we have and never use. The first night I couldn’t even get to sleep – the wheels in my …

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