I remember visiting a family friend in Dallas when I was 10. I flew, on a plane, alone, to spend four days with their family. Looking at this now, I can not believe they let me go.
My mother planned ahead and mailed a letter to me, most likely days before I ever left. It arrived on the second day of my stay. The bottom of the letter was signed, “love ya, Mom.”
That closing made me ache in homesickness. It spoke more to me about my mother than most of the letter. It was exactly how she spoke. “Love ya.” It is not “Love YOU,” just “love ya.”
Twenty five years later, in Dallas, my husband emails me a simple reply to a question. We’ve talked multiple times a day during my stay, have access to each other in ways... Read more
I’m humbled and honored to have had my blog be a finalist in four weblog awards since its debut in 2003. Since then I’ve had the opportunity to speak on writing topics such as Prompted Writing, Story Success, Keeping Your Audience Engaged, and Mom Bloggers and Brands. Writing is a passion so I take every opportunity to inspire and be inspired.
I pioneered a project for bloggers to get feedback from peers and inspire each other to write creatively. In the wake of two full time jobs, it didn’t last as long as we’d like but the plan is to one day resurrect the Write-Of-Passage.
It’s been a day. You know how people say this, “It’s been a day,” and nobody ever says, “oh, what do you mean?” It’s like The Pill. Someone says The Pill and you know that means THE PILL. Not headache medicine, not Vitadmin D, but THE Pill.
It’s been a day.
And while I can certainly give you details, let’s face it: You KNOW what that means. There’s a list of things that started out great and went to crap. Quickly.
There’s a joy and a sorrow of working at home. It’s that on one hand, you can do a podcast for work while wearing a snuggie. On... Read more
It’s funny the things people will say when you enter a difficult situation. My family was uprooted from the upper-middle-class subburbs of a major metropolitan city with 300 days of sun at the end of Jr. High. We settled in a mill town in a small rural area of a state that sees 30 days of sun a year. The entire time my parents sang chorusses of “But you can remake yourself! You can be anything you want! You get to start fresh!”
Dude, I was 13. I was fresh. I had no idea who I was in the first place. Also, these people don’t peg their pants like we do and why aren’t they wearing neon?
Did I mention it was 1989?
Similar in a way only I could make the metaphorical leap, learning Java in grad school brought me to tears. I remember telling people I’d... Read more
People so often lump a person’s “core” within boxes. Boxes of artificial labels society places on ideals. “Republican.” “Pro-Gay-Marriage.” “Working Mother.” “Christian.” “Athiest.”
Our values in my family are above labels. They are paragraphs of ideals, gray areas of judgement. They are curated over years and formed through connections. They are intangible but visible.
Between work and family and bills and co-workers and clients and rainy drizzly days and sick kids, it becomes rare if not impossible to have those conversations. The lists stack up, the mail remains unread, the dishes grow hard with food someone didn’t finish. Perspective is lost and ideals get boxed. Identities... Read more
My children were playing “little fucker” at Home Depot?
Now, look, before you get all judgy, let me just preface this with a post I wrote two years ago to prove I have no idea what I’m doing as a parent. Ok? I had a plan. I had a theory. That theory sucked.
In retrospect, the “time and a place” mantra could work. Teaching your children that anyone can say anything as long as it is the appropriate time and place is rather discerning. I don’t want to shield my children from the world but would rather teach them how to navigate the gray areas of society including cussing, standing up for oneself and when an appropriate toilet joke is funny.
I... Read more
We’ve practiced this routine for years. Perhaps not exactly as performed, but we’ve spent years slowing building to this precipice. I know my partner is standing on the platform. I know my pole awaits. I am as prepared as I’ll ever be as I climb the steep set of narrow stairs one after another.
My feet dangle on the narrow step, my heels hanging off abrupt edges. If there was wind in the arena, I would feel it brushing the bottoms of my feet as I walk higher than air.
I dare not glance down. I dare not look up.
The lights dim and I take my place. My partner smiles on the other side of the wire, on his own platform. We lock eyes. It is time.
They hand me my pole, I steady myself as I’ve been taught. I find a balancing point, slide... Read more
“WHY is Mommy wearing her scarf and coat and shoes? WHY?!” The question comes from my small man wrestling on the couch with his dad. It’s one of his favorite games to play. “Wrestle with me, Daddy!” He’s as joyful as he gets, rumbling around dictating points and I wins and no, that’s a tie. As happy as he gets so long as we’re all there, together, in the room. “Mommy is going to go finish up some work, Buddy.” The answer send him screaming to the kitchen. “NO! I WANNA GO WIFF YOU! NO! I WANNA GO, TOO!”
It’s been weeks now that I’ve kept this schedule, working while the children sleep, on weekends, after my other job. I’ve explained to the children that sometimes you have to work a lot.... Read more
“Actually, I don’t wear boobies right now because I’m a little kid. You wear boobies because you’re a mommy. When I grow up and are a Mommy I will wear boobies, too, right? And OH LOOK my race cars just crashed that was funny. Whoever gets to the side of the closet first wines. Are you still getting dressed? Oh, you’re wearing a red shirt like I am! Look I’m wearing red, too! Did you see? Now can you see? I’m wearing red, too! SEE? IT IS RED? DID YOU SEE IT? RED. RED. Oh, can we do pizza tonight. Now can you play race cars with me? Why are you still getting dressed. It takes FOR EVER TO GET DRESSED, hu. Why are you brushing your hair? I brush my hair, too. See? Now can we do race cars?”
“Um, do you have sage?” I ask at Whole Foods. It seems logical that if one would need something to cleanse spirits, Whole Foods would have it. You know: Hippies and all that. “You mean for burning?” I clearly don’t know what I’m talking about. I think you burn it. I’m not sure what I’m looking for but I’ve been told by at least four people to try a sage cleanse for our house so this year will be infinitely better than the last. Sage cleansing. I couldn’t even bother to look it up before I go marching in to Whole Foods to buy it. Read more
My Mind Enema 10/Jan/2011
“Um, do you have sage?” I ask at Whole Foods. It seems logical that if one would need something to cleanse spirits, Whole Foods would have it.
You know: Hippies and all that.
“You mean for burning?” I clearly don’t know what I’m talking about. I think you burn it. I’m not sure what I’m looking for but I’ve been told by at least four people to try a sage cleanse for our house so this year will be infinitely better than the last. Sage cleansing. I couldn’t even bother to look it up before I go marching in to Whole Foods to buy it.