I don’t take advantage of ALL CAPS YELLING in my blog posts too often, but in this case it is warranted. GO TO TARGET RIGHT NOW AND CHECK OUT THIS LINE OF DENIM, SHIRTS AND ACCESSORIES.

In that way, exfoliating your skin is like cracking an egg. (Except, you know, without the whole mess all over your kitchen and those tiny shards of shell that insist on lodging themselves into your pancake batter no matter how long you fish after them with your spoon.)

If there were someone out there looking for the next Big Idea, I’m going to lay it out for you right here—an alarm clock where the music and/or beep is replaced with a baby’s screams.

I realize that my impatience about the arrival of spring really speaks to my general wimpyness, given that I live in a state that dips below 60 degrees for a total of maaaybe 15 days a year. But what can I say? I have grown to prefer sweating over goose bumps.

Let me start off this post by saying, I hate that I have to even write this. A parent’s nightmare, hands-down, is the though of something bad happening to your children.

It’s the trend that’s been sweeping all the natural health corners of the web for years now, and guess who’s now on board in a big way with oil pulling?

We start movements. We start baths. We get our minds so set on something that it would take an act of God to vaporize our passion. (You tell us we’re stubborn; we say it’s strong.)

I’m reaching a little here, but for this week’s edition of The Style Project, I’m going to start out by asking a non-ironic question: Remember when Levi’s jeans were cool the first time around?

When I played tee-ball as a child, my position was right field, or, as my family affectionately began to call it after they witnessed my athletic skills–or lack thereof–“The Daisy-Picking Zone.” That should tell you all you need to know about my skills as a sportsman.That’s not the end of the story. I did eventually […]

Right now, as I’m typing this, I’m in the McDonald’s drive-thru line. It is 5:19pm. Tonight marks the second time this week I’m feeding my kids Grade A, Unadulterated Crap.