Best way to roast the broomstick. Must try. Five Stars.

Vague, yes, but honest

I got home from New York last night at about 10PM and tried to sleep with racing thoughts of the last three days knocking my brain in a hundred different directions. I got to talk to Candice Olson about design, to Genevieve Gorder about natural childbirth, and I argued with Antonio Ballatore about who had the cuter dog. I asked if Chewie could balance a beer bottle on his head, and finally he conceded that Chuck wins. Chuck always wins.

Tomorrow we were supposed to be headed out to Destin, Florida for a few weeks, the family vacation we’ve been looking forward to for almost a year. However, we’ve recently seen pictures of kids playing on beaches where oil has washed up, and when I took a look at where the oil spill is and is headed, this is what I found:

Where we were supposed to vacation

That red arrow points to where we would have been staying.

Jon and I agree that we don’t think it’s safe for the kids. It was a really difficult decision to cancel, one made even more chaotic because there is a lot of other stuff going on in our personal lives, stuff that for privacy reasons I can’t talk about yet.

But oh, I will eventually. And it is a good story. Juicy. Meaty to the core.

The company we worked with to book our condo in Florida was really reasonable and cut us a deal, and hopefully next year we can head back to that exact place if this disaster ever sees its end. Please, let it end, for the people and the wildlife of the gulf, one of this country’s most valuable treasures.

In the meantime, the next seven to fourteen days of our personal lives are going to get a little crazy, and I may feature a guest blog or two from one of my favorite writers. But I will still be here giving you updates and filling you in on everything when I’ve been given the green light.

No, I’m not pregnant. No, we’re not getting a divorce. STOP THAT.

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Heather B. Armstrong

Hi. I’m Heather B. Armstrong, and this used to be called mommy blogging. But then they started calling it Influencer Marketing: hashtag ad, hashtag sponsored, hashtag you know you want me to slap your product on my kid and exploit her for millions and millions of dollars. That’s how this shit works. Now? Well… sit back, buckle up, and enjoy the ride.

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