Where’d my cranberry go?

I can barely keep food in my mouth, find time to eat, shower, sleep, do laundry, or cook dinner — let alone write the posts I’ve been dying to write (and I mean dying. If only I could just empty my brain into the computer).

But I do have snippets of time where I want to talk for 5 minutes about hair pulling, Eryn smothering Ivy with kisses, articles randomly juxtaposing beards and alcohol with hijab as a “complicated issue,” and Toronto being the only place where two Muslim mothers will chat while their Japanese-Egyptian-Turkish-German children (hers) play with Arab-Indian-German-Irish children (mine).

But that would mean setting up an actual tumblr — and I don’t think I have the time for that either.

So, one more attempt to write a real, real blog post coming soon.

I swear.