Cat in Heels

I’ve decided the best way to live life post-baby is to simply pack the little droolers up (seriously, so much drool) and do the things I used to do. Except go to bars. Babies aren’t welcome in bars. Granted, packing them up is like an hour ordeal, which includes figuring out which of the three strollers to take (none of which are ideal), making sure there’s at least one extra outfit per baby, bottles, maybe a breastpump (and accessories), diapers, wipes, baby sling (because sometimes they hate the stroller), and I’m sure there’s other random crap I pack without even thinking of it. Nightmare heels by Iron Fist This weekend Husband and I packed up the girls and their little ruffle-butts and drove off to Flashback Weekend , a local horror movie convention. Because babies should totally be at horror conventions. It also gave me a chance to wear my Freddy Krueger shoes again, this time with the chance that Robert Englund would see them, because he was there somewhere. For the rec...

When I was in college I went to a haunted house. I also went to one in high school and one when I was in third grade. The whole experience was generally terrifying, and despite my love of horror movies and all things Halloween, I vowed to never go again. This year my husband tricked me into going in the name of family fun, and promised that if I survived we could go see the original Nightmare on Elm Street  (Johnny Depp in a half shirt), which was showing at a recently restored theater in the city. To my absolute horror I found out we weren’t going to some small little haunted house either. It was Dream Reapers , A big, scary haunted house with Yelp reviews and more actors than animatronics. The kind where people chase you through the parking lot because they think it’s funny to hear you scream and watch you run. The kind I had successfully spent years avoiding. Where's Freddy when you need him? When we got to the haunted house we stood in line, and I looked down at my...