Category: Off the Air

Ol’ Blue

Our house is in mourning. My son and daughter have come to me separately, in tears. “I don’t want her to go. Why does she have to go?” I explain the circle of life. I tell them nothing lasts forever.

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Idiot Girl

When you have a job in the public eye, especially one on live television, people see what you do. I’m intentionally stating the obvious. If you screw up, it’s not between you and your co-workers — it’s likely to wind

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Red Light Wake Up Call

“We’re never going to get there and I’m going to be late again. Why aren’t we moving?” He is wedged into my small backseat, his lanky, toothpick frame bulging with padding and hard plates beneath his hockey jersey. I am

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Up and Away

So sleepy. Oh so sleepy. The warmth of the sun is lulling me into a front seat stupor. I slow blink, reveling in the extra long red light. Why do they drink so much milk? I don’t even see them

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Thanks, Easter Bunny






Murphy’s Law of parenthood is that approximately 17 seconds after you sit down with your Friday night cocktail in hand, your ten year old will appear on the patio, lower lip trembling. “Johnny said it’s your parents. The Easter Bunny..he




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Father Christmas

I was home from college for Christmas. We were gathered around the table, my freshman 15 pounds packed onto my 18 year old frame. I shoveled in my mother’s famous chicken divan, so happy to be in my house, eating

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7 Awesome Things About Getting Old

My husband and I settled in for a Saturday night movie at home, some sci fi flick that had received good reviews. Within two minutes of the movie starting, I grabbed the remote and hit the button to turn on

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A Thanksgiving Stuffed with Guilt

I probably shouldn’t have said it. I just blurted it out when I realized he wasn’t there. My 8 year old had handed me a Thanksgiving card she made for us at school. It had the feathers glued to the

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On 8 point bucks and Paris

It might have been my husband’s fault. Or mine. Either way, the cacophony of rushing out of the house early on a Saturday morning meant we had forgotten some needed hockey gear. I selfishly volunteered to go home to get

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Lip Service

I busted my son in church yesterday. He’s 10 years old. An altar server. A good kid. But Catholicism isn’t easy. There are lots of prayers and lots of versions of those prayers to memorize, and he’s still learning them.

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The Lottery

Someone said we were supposed to wear pink. I chose a pink dress out of my closet. My husband wore a pink button down under his navy blazer. We drove the 20 minutes and parked, picking our way over the

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Why I’m not enjoying this time in my life more

Have you ever turned the handle on a jack-in-the-box, and as it cranks and the tinny song plays on, you start to feel nervous, anticipating the pop of the freaky clown? So you slow your cranking, maybe even lean back

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What Francis Means to Bad Catholics Like Me

I’m a bad Catholic. I know this because I have been told countless times┬áthat Catholics cannot pick and choose which parts of their faith they want to follow. That’s precisely what I’ve done for a very long time. I’ve viewed

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Roanoke

I imagine I am Alison Parker, doing a live shot, yet another live shot, one of a dozen that will fill the work week. I imagine how the sun rises behind her in the moments before it happens, how her

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The Punch

They came tearing down the driveway, waving their skinny-as-toothpick arms, yelling. For a split second I thought they were excited, but as they drew closer, my middle aged eyes focused enough to see she was crying and he looked furious.

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