Stories by Kymberly Foster Seabolt

Warm, witty and just a wee bit warped, Kymberly Foster Seabolt is a native of Kent, Ohio, who survived childhood exposure to disco and grew up to marry and move to the country. Her column weaves her special brand of humor with poignant, entertaining, and honest portrayals of parenting, marriage, and real life. She currently lives in northeastern Ohio with her husband, two children, two dogs, two cats, and numerous dust bunnies who wish to remain nameless.

Life Out Loud: Who cares what ‘they’ think?

Thursday, October 20, 2011 by Kymberly Foster Seabolt

People are insufferable. Oh, not taken singularly, of course. One-on-one people are lovely. It’s when they go plural you have problems. If there are any two things that can ruin just about any good time it is “people” and “they.”

In sickness and in health

Thursday, October 13, 2011 by Kymberly Foster Seabolt

So the good news is I won’t die today. Probably. I have been sick for three weeks. Nothing too serious, just a run of the mill wracking full body cough, spiky fever and random swooning. At some point I think my life was in danger. Not due to the illness exactly. I just know that [...]

Follow the road to the red cow on the left

Thursday, October 6, 2011 by Kymberly Foster Seabolt

I was in my house on a quiet Friday night when a dead-ringer for Larry the Cable Guy of stand-up comedy fame came roaring up our driveway in his big white pickup truck looking for a “spit.” This is just about as exciting as it gets on a Friday night around here. “I’m here to [...]

Yes, I’ve gone batty

Thursday, September 29, 2011 by Kymberly Foster Seabolt

One of the many things that keeps our marriage interesting is that I am a very unpredictable (see also: maddening ) person. Mr. Wonderful, bless his heart, continues to labor under the delusion that much of what I do should make sense. I don’t know if and when he will ever get the hint that [...]

Life Out Loud: On bench because she’s a she?

Thursday, September 22, 2011 by Kymberly Foster Seabolt

She is sitting on the bench. Her spine straight, her head erect, but her shoulders ever so slightly slump. If you didn’t know her, you’d never see it. If you do know — and love her — you do. On this team, you do time on the bench primarily if you are a girl.

It’s all right, in fact, it’s a gas

Thursday, September 15, 2011 by Kymberly Foster Seabolt

The natural gas utility doesn’t give me the time of day — until they need money. They are like big utility versions of teenagers that way. One minute I’m minding my own business, clam happy in denial of my natural gas needs. The next I am on the receiving end of a phone call saying [...]

Life Out Loud: Say what? Parenting in the teen years

Thursday, September 8, 2011 by Kymberly Foster Seabolt

I knew this day would come. There are milestones in every child’s life. Birth, roll over, sit up, walk, talk and the “whatever” eye rolls.

The art (supplies) of war

Thursday, September 1, 2011 by Kymberly Foster Seabolt

Every year it’s like I’m engaged in the annual elusive Christmas toy craze except I’m not looking for a Tickle Me Elmo or pocket pets — I’m looking for pocket brad folders. The latter apparently as extinct as the dodo bird. Plain paper folders are everywhere. You can buy 100 for a dime. Plastic folders [...]

Life Out Loud: A road trip down memory lane

Thursday, August 25, 2011 by Kymberly Foster Seabolt

Nothing could dampen our enthusiasm as we kicked off the 11th annual “Cousins and Kids” Summer Road Trip. This annual pilgrimage began many years ago when my cousin and I decided to take ourselves and our respective kids on a little getaway vacation.

Life Out Loud: Please leave a message at the sound of the splash

Thursday, August 18, 2011 by Kymberly Foster Seabolt

At some point even the most wonderful convenience can become more of a hindrance than a help. Mr. Wonderful has had a loathe/hate relationship with his cell phone for some time now. The phone was scratched, hard to dial, harder to hear, and just generally irritated him to no end.