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1. My husband joined twitter. Which I guess means I should stop tweeting about all our marital secrets. I just know he’s going to go all Ashton Kutcher on me and have a gazillion followers while I’ll be left in the Demi dust.

2. We signed a contract to sell our apartment. Which means no more open houses which means very soon I can stop having the following conversation with Dylan:

“Hey mom, where are all the shovels and pails for the playground?”

“In storage.”

“Where’s my bicycle?”

“In storage.”

“Where’s Summer’s bike?”

“In storage.”

“Where’s my scooter?”

“In storage.”

“Where are my roller blades?”

“In storage.”

“Where’s Summer’s potty?”

“In storage.”

“Where’s the Sesame Street potty seat?”

“In storage.”

“Where’s my chalkboard?”

“In storage.”

3. And today, I got a flat on my double stroller. So I pushed it for 25 sweaty, heart pounding minutes to the bike shop. I’m positively, absolutely sure this took the same amount of effort as pushing a car with a flat tire for 25 minutes.

The bike shop fixed it for $17 bucks.

Which seemed like a real steal until I got another flat on the same tire about 6 hours later.


New York City, you’re starting to make it easy to leave you.

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kelcey kintner