I have been known, on occasion, to get a serious case of the giggles. My husband says it isn’t so much giggling as it is cackling, but I prefer to think of myself as demure. Mostly because I prefer lies.

A few nights ago, my daughter taped one of my laughing fits. Ironically, I was laughing this hard because she wasn’t laughing. I kept saying, “How can you not think this laughing is hilarious?” Because, clearly, it was. You can’t see me, but you can hear me. You can definitely hear me.

See? Demure.

Because I think a good chuckle is good for the soul I’m sharing some of my recent favorites from Twitter, and by recent I mean from the last year. I’m 42; February was recent. Enjoy.

I like Little Miss Muffet. She's got a whey about her.

— Alec Sulkin (@thesulk) September 1, 2013

Finally on plane leaving South Bend airport. I now know how they felt at the end of Argo.

— Jim Gaffigan (@JimGaffigan) August 30, 2013

Can't get a Choco Taco at a Taco Bell anymore, but people still ask me to fax them documents. This is not progress.

— Roo Ciambriello (@roociambriello) August 16, 2013

Pregnant cousin who says she will NEVER have an epidural or c-section says she also will never, ever, ever dye her hair. *grabs popcorn*

— Leah, agirlandaboy (@agirlandaboy) August 29, 2013

herringbone, two kinds of stripes, lace, floral, and my pants are staple-hemmed. bet I get a raise today.

— keply (@MmeSurly) August 27, 2013

Stuck on the side of the road really regretting replacing my spare tire with an emergency cheese wheel.

— Nathan Buckley (@duplicitron) July 24, 2013

If you put your hospital gown on backwards and wander into the lobby the doctors will let you stay another night.

— Nathan Buckley (@duplicitron) June 27, 2013

I love that Dora's mom is such a steadfast free range parent. Yet, part of me wants to scream YOUR BABY'S ALONE IN THE WOODS WITH A MONKEY!

— Arnebya Herndon (@whatnowandwhy) June 18, 2013

Really enjoying this "I don't care if you live or die, I need a ride to my friend's house" stage my kids are going through.

— Vi King (@TheBlessMess) June 17, 2013

Apparently when I say "HURRY!!!!!", my son hears "carefully assess".

— Alissa Enders (@AlissaEnders) March 28, 2013

Be a writer, kids! Have unfinished homework until you die!

— Annabel Oakes (@annabeloakes) February 13, 2013

I hope you cackled.

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I have been thinking about this post for weeks – months, actually. Words twirl about in my head, one after another; mulling, and brewing, and boiling until my body becomes an animated version of itself and steam shoots from my ears. I hear a whistle as if my brain is a factory, closing for the day, and my body is dirty, tired and gritty from all the work it had to do to keep the factory open, working, resourceful.

And, the words – the hot, steamy, messy words – can’t be written down because they have become condensation on the walls. They slide and drip to the floor until they’re in a jumbled pile at my feet. I see them there, a mess of black letters spelling anger, sadness, fraud, sorrow, trust, love, faith, conviction. I move forward and they stick to my shoe.

I try to wash them away, but they won’t take leave. They are glued in this spot beneath me, always at my feet with every step I take. I need new shoes, I think.

The new shoes are shiny and clean; there’s no blackness on the soles. They give me blisters, but my toes will adapt. I wiggle them. I go for a run. I try lots of new things in my shoes and they become comfortable and I forget that I ever had anything but these which fit me so well.

Until one day when I’m standing at the stove and feel the words in my head again. Child, wrong, sad, hurt, boy, belief, family, ignorance, CHILD, CHILD, CHILD. It happens all over again and I think, I will never be able to write a post with all this muck.

So, I don’t.

I let the steam leave my head, wipe down the walls and buy new shoes, hoping that someday their comfort will be enough.

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When I define myself I don’t ever say I’m a mommy-blogger. I’m a mom, but I’m also a wife, daughter, niece, cousin, employee and a whole lot of other things which don’t, individually, make me who I am or this blog what it is. I’m more of a hodge-podge blogger. Look at that! I just created a niche!

But, today this little girl started high school and I am feeling 100% mommy.

First day of first grade.

You hear it all the time; enjoy it when they’re little, they grow up so fast, time flies, blink and they’re grown. I’m here to tell you that it’s all true. In four years – God willing – she’ll be off to college and I don’t how my heart will stand it.

First day of high school. I won’t even comment about the socks because that’s how they wear them these days. Kids!

So just for today, go ahead and call me a mommy-blogger. Just for today, I only want to talk about my daughter and how wonderful, smart, and funny she is, and how amazing it has been to watch her grow from the 2 lb. 9 oz. preemie who fit in her father’s hand.

Just for today, you can call me whatever you want as long as I get to be her mommy a little while longer.

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This is Tom.

I realize this photo is blurry, but Tom wouldn’t stay still.

This is also Tom…

…in white jeans, a wig, and faux-fur vest. I have no explanation for this.

Tom has been a friend of ours since our daughters were in kindergarten. He is a father of two, he is obsessed with his meat smoker, he’s Italian, and he’s a pain in my butt. Every time I see him he tells me he “wants to be on my blog.” So, here you go, Tom. You’ve officially made it!

But, this post isn’t just about him; it is a sweeping generalization of what it takes to be, what I consider, a good friend. Tom fits the bill, would you? If so, call me. Also, pick up a pizza on your way over.

1. There must be no pretense. The best thing a person can bring to a friendship is their authentic self. Period.

2. I like a good story-teller and the more humorous the story, the better. No pressure.

3. You should not be easily offended. For instance, if you display any of #1 by telling me about your new car, you should be able to take the teasing I will dish out because you have two kids and two dogs and you bought a two-door car. *cough* Tom. *cough*

4. Beer-drinking is a plus. Throwing parties with the request that each person bring a signature cocktail is a triple plus bonus!

5. You have to be willing to come pick me up on the side of a road in the middle of the night if my car breaks down. Because I would do the same for you. Or your kids, or your grandma. Tom probably wouldn’t do this, but his wife would, so he is awarded #5 by proxy.

6. If my kids are doing something wrong, I expect a good friend to pull them aside and tell them to knock it off…and why. It takes a village, people. It takes a village.

7. You should appreciate a good inside joke. For instance: Tom, the vest was awesome, but you should have worn the bike shorts.

8. Be willing to embarrass yourself for the friendship’s greater good. See above photo for proof.

9. Own pets. Most of my good friends are pet-owners. Only a couple of them have cats, so pretty much just dog-people. Pet owners have good souls and dog-people get bonus points, because duh. Dogs.

10. Understand that I’m a busy woman so writing one blog post about you is doable, but two would be pushing it. Though if there’s more of #4, we’ll talk.

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