P-Diddles, My MomFriend

Dagnabbit, it’s back. Stupid flim-flamming virus. Oddly, I feel a little better when I’m up moving around. When I sit for longer than 10 minutes, I feel totally wiped out. I’m not up for writing much.

So instead, I thought I’d introduce you to my MomFriend of Surreptitious Ciphering” fame. 

She goes by LakeMom on her blog, but I call her P-Diddles. She has three moppets whom she homeschools as well. We met when Dolittle was a wee babe-in-arms, and we’ve shared countless parenting and learning adventures together since. P-Diddles is the kind of friend who’s made me a better person for having known her. She’s thoughtful, compassionate, and a truly amazing mom. 

She can also make me laugh ’til I almost pee my pants. 

If I was feeling better, I’d write a full-on essay expressing my deep and abiding love for P-Diddles, despite her love of wool yarn and Love in the Time of Cholera. Another day, perhaps. In the meantime, feel free to peruse her site – there’s some good stuff there. Some funny, some deep, some both. You may particularly enjoy this post featuring our moppets accidentally swearing and me in a wheelchair: “Adolescent Humor” by LakeMom Enjoy. 🙂

I’m now going to go suck saltwater up my nose and see if I can’t get some sleep. Night night.

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Annie writes about life, motherhood, world issues, beautiful places, and anything else that tickles her brain. On good days, she enjoys juggling life with her husband and homeschooling her children. On bad days, she binges on chocolate chips and dreams of traveling the world alone.

Comments 3

  1. I was being mature. Plus I am just so happy you have taken up a fiber art that I am letting your vicious, completely unnecessary, painful disdain for wool go. See? Mature.

  2. LOL! Read the first 200 pages . . . you funny. I believe I gave it more than that, even, and it was still a no go. And no worries, I won’t tell anyone you’re addicted to “The Bachelor.” I’m surprised you let the wool thing go. That usually wounds you deeply.

  3. Seriously feeling the love – right back at you! And you just have to give Love in the Time of Cholera a chance — read the first 200 pages and you’ll get into it. And thank you for not mentioning my little Monday night TV indulgence.

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