fell open as she stared at the monitor.
For the past three years, she had looked forward to reading every single Plate Spinner column almost as much as she looked forward to having her first cup of coffee in the morning or watching her boys sleep on the nights when she'd get home too late to see them awake.
Each new column held its own treasure, whether it was pertinent advice, a snarky smack down, outrageously good but easy recipes, or wickedly funny tales of the writer's own familial multitasking feats. At least Claire assumed they were supposed to be funny. She couldn't imagine a working mother tackling all that this one allegedly did—not without a full support staff working feverishly behind the scenes anyway.
At the start of the New Year, though, the Gazette changed the column when it not only revealed the author's identity, but also announced she'd be chronicling her efforts to train for the Chicago Marathon. Since then, Claire had held out hope that, once the event was behind her, Mattie would revive her old format. But that all changed in July.
After she completed the Firecracker half marathon, it came to light that Mattie was not married and did not have a family. While this revelation ought to have made it easier to denounce the columnist as a fraud, Claire instead felt vindicated and remained a loyal fan.
She reread the email. Mattie must be moving on to something else after she completes the marathon in October. Why else would the Gazette need a new columnist?
You can get your life back.
She clapped her hands together once and cried "Seriously?" to the Chicago Blackhawks 2013 Stanley Cup champions who were looking down at her from a poster hanging over the desk.
They each seemed to grin "Seriously" back in reply.
While advice columnist was definitely not topping her list of preferred career choices, she had to admit, it was a step—albeit a small one, like in a size two shoe—in the right direction.
She gave her head a quick shake and read the first statement: "I can't say 'no' to my kids."
Channeling the snarky tone Mattie used to use when doling out advice, Claire typed the first thing that popped into her head.
"I'm guessing you're making up for not being indulged as a child. If this is the case, get thee to a spa and pamper the heck out of yourself so you can remember how amazing you are. Then go home and show those kids who's boss. Otherwise, get used to the fact that you're one of 'those parents' who will forever be credited with increased crime rates, the popularity of reality TV, and eventually, the downfall of modern civilization."
Satisfied with her reply, she moved on to the second statement: "My spouse spends more than I make."
Although this concept was completely foreign to her, she took a stab at a response.
"Since you don't specify what exactly your spouse is spending your hard-earned money on, or provide a suspected reason for the overspending, I'll go out on a limb and suggest that he or she is seeking to fill a void in their life. Whether it's caused by a lack of quality attention on your part because you're working so hard to support their spending habits (a vicious cycle, I know) or an innate need to 'keep up with the Joneses,' my advice is that you help him or her fill it with nonmaterial things like an unexpected picnic lunch, a bunch of hand-picked flowers, a back rub, or an offer to help them make dinner, clean the house, or do the laundry."
This is so easy. And so much fun.
Feeling more energized than she had in ages, she moved on to the last statement.
"My fifteen-year-old daughter wants to get a tattoo."
With notably more confidence than she had writing the first two, Claire responded with what she would do to her boys if they ever approached her with a similar demand.
"Assuming you are opposed to her desire to permanently deface herself, I recommend the following. First, ask her to hand you her favorite thing ever—be it an article of clothing, a poster, an
For the past three years, she had looked forward to reading every single Plate Spinner column almost as much as she looked forward to having her first cup of coffee in the morning or watching her boys sleep on the nights when she'd get home too late to see them awake.
Each new column held its own treasure, whether it was pertinent advice, a snarky smack down, outrageously good but easy recipes, or wickedly funny tales of the writer's own familial multitasking feats. At least Claire assumed they were supposed to be funny. She couldn't imagine a working mother tackling all that this one allegedly did—not without a full support staff working feverishly behind the scenes anyway.
At the start of the New Year, though, the Gazette changed the column when it not only revealed the author's identity, but also announced she'd be chronicling her efforts to train for the Chicago Marathon. Since then, Claire had held out hope that, once the event was behind her, Mattie would revive her old format. But that all changed in July.
After she completed the Firecracker half marathon, it came to light that Mattie was not married and did not have a family. While this revelation ought to have made it easier to denounce the columnist as a fraud, Claire instead felt vindicated and remained a loyal fan.
She reread the email. Mattie must be moving on to something else after she completes the marathon in October. Why else would the Gazette need a new columnist?
You can get your life back.
She clapped her hands together once and cried "Seriously?" to the Chicago Blackhawks 2013 Stanley Cup champions who were looking down at her from a poster hanging over the desk.
They each seemed to grin "Seriously" back in reply.
While advice columnist was definitely not topping her list of preferred career choices, she had to admit, it was a step—albeit a small one, like in a size two shoe—in the right direction.
She gave her head a quick shake and read the first statement: "I can't say 'no' to my kids."
Channeling the snarky tone Mattie used to use when doling out advice, Claire typed the first thing that popped into her head.
"I'm guessing you're making up for not being indulged as a child. If this is the case, get thee to a spa and pamper the heck out of yourself so you can remember how amazing you are. Then go home and show those kids who's boss. Otherwise, get used to the fact that you're one of 'those parents' who will forever be credited with increased crime rates, the popularity of reality TV, and eventually, the downfall of modern civilization."
Satisfied with her reply, she moved on to the second statement: "My spouse spends more than I make."
Although this concept was completely foreign to her, she took a stab at a response.
"Since you don't specify what exactly your spouse is spending your hard-earned money on, or provide a suspected reason for the overspending, I'll go out on a limb and suggest that he or she is seeking to fill a void in their life. Whether it's caused by a lack of quality attention on your part because you're working so hard to support their spending habits (a vicious cycle, I know) or an innate need to 'keep up with the Joneses,' my advice is that you help him or her fill it with nonmaterial things like an unexpected picnic lunch, a bunch of hand-picked flowers, a back rub, or an offer to help them make dinner, clean the house, or do the laundry."
This is so easy. And so much fun.
Feeling more energized than she had in ages, she moved on to the last statement.
"My fifteen-year-old daughter wants to get a tattoo."
With notably more confidence than she had writing the first two, Claire responded with what she would do to her boys if they ever approached her with a similar demand.
"Assuming you are opposed to her desire to permanently deface herself, I recommend the following. First, ask her to hand you her favorite thing ever—be it an article of clothing, a poster, an
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