Dear Supermom,

I don’t know what to do – it seems everything is falling apart at once.  My child doesn’t want to go to school anymore and every morning is a battle.  My husband has decided to change jobs and that means we have to move, my dog has some weird skin rash that makes her scoot down the hall on her back and I think the cat is pregnant – how do I cope?

What To Do


sauthorDear Apocalypse

Boy, that all does sound like a lot and I would really like to help you on this one, but I am in the middle of a Twix hangover that has made focusing my eyes virtually impossible.  Seriously, what do they put in those little pieces of divine confection?  Is it the perfectly crafted caramel that pulls but not so much that the tail hits your chin when it releases?  Is it the crinkle of the chocolate folds?  Or is it the buttery little cookie you bite into just when you thought it couldn’t get any better?  I resorted to snagging other kids’ masks to send Tabby and Logan back repeatedly to the house that was passing them out.  I could make a full-scale replica of the Eiffel Tower out of my stash; well, I used to be able to.  I made my way through so many last night I would be lucky to assemble a proper likeness of Tin-Tin at this point.  Nate came out this morning to find me buried under a blanket of gold foil wrappers – it looked like King Midas had vomited on me.

I got a lot done last night, though, once the sugar kicked in.  I rearranged my kitchen.  Unfortunately I swapped it with the dining room and things are a bit confusing for everyone currently; I had to sit in the hutch to cook the pancakes.

It seems I have also done my 2015 scrapbooks so I guess I have a head start, albeit a few questions may come up when the grand kids look back.  I am tentatively calling it “The Year Grammy and Grampy Became Stick People.”

But this aftermath is killing me.  When I stand still for any length of time, my head violently drops back and I have to pull on my bangs to right it.  Plus I keep losing my elbows – I just forget where they are. I have no control over my right hand, which has made writing this very interesting; I have my dog doing the bulk of the typing for me.

Wait, didn’t you ask me something about your dog?



Thank you to Colleen M.  from Flint, MI  for the email.  If you would like to write to Supermom, email her at or click the button below:


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