A 37-year-old woman from New York unexpectedly became a mom a few days ago. She gave birth to a surprise baby boy — after being rushed to the hospital with horrible abdominal pain.
Teresa Brown believed she had appendicitis or gall stones, and after undergoing blood work at the hospital, she was told that she was pregnant and was actually in labor. She welcomed baby Andrew a mere 45 minutes later, who weighed in at 4 pounds, 12 ounces and is healthy, despite being born two weeks early and having no prenatal care. Read more at The Stir…
Kate Middleton is becoming the guest that just won’t leave. What started out as a quick post-baby trip to mum’s has turned into a potential six-month stay. And Carole’s like, “Dude. Leave already.” Just kidding. The Duchess could never be an intrusion to anyone, least of all her mother. But Kate really is considering staying at her parents’ Bucklebury home with baby George for a longer time than anticipated. And for a very good reason: Carole is apparently the only one who can get the little prince to sleep. Read more at The Stir…
Sometimes I do not have anything deeper to say other than “Shut up.”
And those are my choice words for the California parents who are suing their children’s school district over yoga classes being taught in a class. That’s not very Zen, is it? Keep reading »
I’m going to propose something that may seem radical, given the hysteria that single motherhood seems to conjure in American society. The typical single mother? She doesn’t exist.
As a solo-parenting mother (which is different than a single parent — this is a nuanced “issue” my friends!), I’ve searched high and low to find out if a significant portion of single moms are representative of the stereotype that politicians, moralizing religious groups, and census statistics tell me are single (puns!) handedly causing a rise in childhood poverty. All I’ve managed to find is a group of people as diverse as our married counterparts. Keep reading »
In the few days following my dad’s passing a few weeks ago, I received flowers from friends and coworkers, endless phone calls, emails and Facebook messages expressing condolences, and more than a few people offering to help in any way they could. It was wonderful and comforting, to be sure, and would, I thought, keep me going as I set about tying up all the loose ends of my father’s “estate,” something I assumed would take a few weeks to a month, at most.
Well, a little over a week has passed, the flowers have dried, the calls have died down, and people have rightfully moved on. But, I’m realizing, the shitshow is just beginning for me. I don’t know what I was thinking, assuming that settling my dad’s affairs would be a simple process, but it’s far from it. He didn’t have a will. I won’t have a death certificate for a few weeks, at which point I can then finally establish myself as the executor of his estate, which hopefully no one will contest. (You hear that, uncle of mine?) In the meantime, his house languishes in rural Hawaii, already two months behind on the mortgage payments. The unofficial “tenants” my dad had let stay there over the years have the run of the place; I’ve heard that they’ve already begun selling off his more valuable possessions (there aren’t many) like his TV. And I can’t do anything about it because Hawaii’s tenant laws allow any old person to establish residency in a home by spending a few nights somewhere. Seriously! Crash at someone’s house for a weekend and it’s suddenly your place! I will have to formally evict people who never paid a month’s rent from my dad’s home, as they sell off belongings I can’t even prove are his. It’s a nightmare. Keep reading »
This is Dan Toombs, but you might know him as The Curry Guy, because every single night for the past year, he’s made his family dinner using curry. Chicken korma, tandoori masala, and less traditional recipes like currywurst and curry-spiced turkey Christmas turkey, you name it–if it involves curry, he’s probably cooked it. As soon as I heard about this story, it brought me back to my own childhood, and the questionable dinners (butter sandwiches, anyone?) my dad used to make over and over again. I thought it might be interesting to poll the other Frisky staffers about their parents’ cooking habits, and if there were any particular meals they really hated growing up. Check out our stories after the jump, and please share your own in the comments! Keep reading »