Gay-at-Home Mom

Lucy Hallowell: Gay-at-Home Mom. Doctor's Wife. Nerd. Writer for


Everything I know about basketball, I learned from my friend Craig. We grew up on the same street, a couple of houses down from each other. He didn’t treat me like a fragile little flower because I was a girl. He boxed me out, hard. He set screens like a wall. I was on the receiving end of his…


One more post about the situation with the Delaware school board and The Miseducation of Cameron Post.

The Communications Director for the National Coalition Against Censorship just emailed me to let me know that NCAC, in conjunction with American Booksellers Foundation for Free Expression;…

It is foolish and childish, on the face of it, to affiliate ourselves with anything so insignificant and patently contrived and commercially exploitative as a professional sports team, and the amused superiority and icy scorn that the non-fan directs at the sports nut (I know this look — I know it by heart) is understandable and almost unanswerable. Almost. What is left out of this calculation, it seems to me, is the business of caring — caring deeply and passionately, really caring — which is a capacity or an emotion that has almost gone out of our lives. An so it seems possible that we have come to a time when it no longer matters so much what the caring is about, how frail or foolish is the object of that concern, as long as the feeling itself can be saved. Naivete — the infantile and ignoble joy that sends a grown man or woman to dancing and shouting with joy in the middle of the night over the haphazardous flight of a distant ball — seems a small price to pay for such a gift.

From “Agincourt and After” (1975) by Roger Angell.

He writes about baseball, specifically Carlton Fisk’s curving, twisting, home run in Game 6 of the World Series, but he could be speaking of all fans in every corner of fandom. 


I seriously cannot wait for the day when I can be curled up in my bed, going over my case files from work and you come straggling in, throw off your clothes and put on my college sweatshirt, put your hair up, put your glasses on, and snuggle up into my side smelling like our child’s shampoo.

She looks her best in my old t-shirt, a messy ponytail, and her glasses. Our kids’ shampoo smells like watermelon bubblicious. 

The Fosters brings it in this episode and I try my best to keep up.

Asker gayathomemom Asks:
All right nutter, 1, 5, 19.
gayathomemom gayathomemom Said:


You’re so mean to me, Lucy! 

1. Write your URL in some writing that you thought were super cool when you were younger. Eg, bubble letters, digital clock letters, letters with lots of embellishments, or letters with smiley faces in them.


I basically used to think I was a professional artist because I could do bubble letters. With shading. If you find any scrap of paper that ever crossed my path in any of my school-aged years, you’ll find bubble letters. In fact, you’ll probably find some in my grown-up work notebook, too. 

5. Name three things you like about yourself.


(I hope you can read that…)

I hate doing this and Lucy knows I hate doing this which is why she picked it. She’s like a self-confidence bully. Trying to force me to be all nice about myself. 

19. Write an autograph version of your URL.


Ooo I like this! I might legally change my name.

FYI, in case you missed it: These are my answers for the Handwritten Post meme. 

knew you had been a bubble letter kid (which is why I asked)! Now I have proof. 

This is officially the best thing I have ever done on the internet. I can die happy.

It’s harder to find pictures of the Kenosha Comets team than some of the others (Rockford seems to have the most). But I found a couple.