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Mother, Writer, treasure hunter, aging red head, and sushi lover. This is my view on life, "Straight up, with a twist––" because life is too short to be subtle! Featured blogger for Huffington Post, and followed on Twitter by LeBron James– for reasons beyond my comprehension.
© Dawn Quyle Landau & Tales From the Motherland. This is my work; don’t make me go all Boston on your @$$.
© Dawn Quyle Landau and Tales From the Motherland, 2011-2019. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express permission from this blog’s author and owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Dawn Quyle Landau and Tales From The Motherland, with appropriate and specific direction (links) to the original content.
Hit Me Baby One More Time!
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The Grass Is Always Greener on Someone Else’s Head
Daily Prompt: Dialogue, She Said What?
On My Father’s Birthday: A Letter To The Man Who Killed Him
On My Father’s Birthday, A Letter To the Man Who Killed Him
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As of Sept. 8, 2014
Tag Archives: empty nest
Here’s the HuffPo piece… for those of you who let me know that you don’t want to go over there. You can’t say I’m not accommodating. It’s been almost three weeks since I left my youngest child at college. Given … Continue reading
It’s that “Empty Nest” issue again- rearing it’s head like a unflattering shadow that you can’t shake. You notice that it doesn’t look the way you want or think it should: following you around looking chubbier, not standing up as … Continue reading
And sot it continues…. forgot to link up, and lost a day! My dear Friday Fictioneer friends, I’ve missed this so much! I took off last minute to Israel, to see my daughter and help her move. She is expecting … Continue reading
Little Man, stepping off into a big, bright future. On June 7, 2014 my youngest child, Little Man, walked across the stage at a local college gymnasium and got his high school diploma. As it was when his older sister … Continue reading
I May Be Lame, and Clueless, and Demanding… But You Still Came Out of My Vagina (and other ugly truths)
Here I am, circling the drain again– banging my head against the same old wall– built with bricks of crumbling self-esteem, and topped with barbed-wire of razor-sharp self-loathing and remorse. On the heels of a stellar summer of travel and … Continue reading
*So, for the record, there are actually 535,949 minutes in a year, but presumably that’s a lot harder to sing. “Five hundred twenty five thousand six hundred minutes Five hundred twenty five thousand moments so dear Five hundred twenty five … Continue reading