Tag Archives: mikalee byerman

When Monaciello first opened its doors, I attended a media preview night; I recently dug out my notes from the event, and I noticed these words that I had scribbled down as I was sampling the night’s offerings: “Life-changing carrot.” It’s not often that a root veggie is preceded by …

My 7th grade Nevada history instructor from Clayton Middle School, Mr. Gandolfo, would likely do somersaults in his grave if he could hear the following admission: I’ve never ridden the V&T Railroad. So very sorry, Mr. G. But I made it up to him today (and seriously thought about so many of the things …

I am so fucking tired of being fucking tired. The End

OK moms, so tell me if any of these scenarios sounds remotely familiar: You’re off to drop your beautiful child at daycare, but you have no desire to take off your cozy sweatshirt, put on a bra, then put your sweatshirt back on — and yet you do. Because decency. …

As I type this, my adorable, amazing, spectacular 4-year-old is adjacent to me. Notice I did not say “next to me”; I said, “adjacent” — in mathematical terms, “having a common vertex and a common side.” In mommy terms: touching me. So. Very. Much. Touching. My child is always touching me. …

I have issues. I get that. But perhaps during no season are my issues more prevalent than during the run-up to Easter. And there’s one massive reason. The Easter Bunny. But not the cute, fluffy, imaginary one (sorry kids if you’re reading this) that stops by my house every year to set …

My 4-year-old daughter was recently in the hospital. And I don’t mean “in the hospital” as in “visiting a friend and then scampering down to the cafeteria for a chocolate fro-yo.” I mean “in the hospital” as in “hospitalized.” For days. Yet every nurse, doctor, CNA and hospital food service …

Let me get this out of the way from the outset: I never take for granted how blessed I am to be called “Mom” by three spectacular souls. They are everything to me, and Thanksgiving is one of my favorite holidays because it allows me to truly recognize and express gratitude …

When I was contacted by a publisher and asked if I would write a book about Reno, my first thought was this: Am I being Punk’d? But then I realized it was legit and that Ashton Kutcher was not about to show up at my door; the publisher was asking …

If you know me, Dylan — which, considering you’ve been with me for 17 years, I hope you do by now — you know how I feel about aspirational platitudes. The words “Live every moment, laugh every day, love beyond words” (or their equally annoying truncated version: “Live-laugh-love”) make me want …