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Showing posts from July, 2016

Aleppo

"mommy can I have ice cream?".... ""When can I have ice cream?"... "Will I have ice cream today?..." Not quite 11:00 a.m. and my eldest can't seem to process there will not be ice cream in her immediate future.  I pondered the harmfulness of ice cream so early.   I battered the idea in my head as I savored away, attempting to steer her appetite "do you want a taco?" "No... Five year olds don't like tacos..." As I carefully bit into my golden corn tortilla, beef and cheese tumbled out.  I wondered if she would like *my tacos. I was quite proud of them. My mom makes good tacos. Lloyd makes good tacos. And you know what?  I make damn good tacos. Heavy on aleppo chile seasoning and porcini powder, I cooked for no one but myself, perhaps subconsciously aware that if they were just spicy and savory enough I wouldn't have to share the leftovers.i  Sayler was right that her five-year old sensibilities would not like my tacos. I

Dear Dad

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Dear Dad, I am a good mom. I wanted you to know. It doesn't mean my kids are perfect, and it certainly doesn't mean I am. Ooph. No way. But I am confident in one thing, and it's that I am a good mom. I am still your little girl dancing in the aisles of the grocery store.  I am still your little girl writing little stories, and occasionally even poems. I am still your little girl who likes to read; though admittedly it's more of the online product reviews than thrillers and tales of times long past these days.  I am still your little girl looking to live simply, whatever that means. And now I have little girls and I see how much my parenting has taken shape because of you. I know I am a little strict and almost dismissive to little girl tears. Buck up, daughter.  Though in an ironic twist I can be a softie when it comes to allowing little ones to join me in bed or join me in random fits of hysteria, just as you would.  Bedtimes are a thing of never as your daughter. And

Oh, Sayler

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Sayler @ Age 5 trying to retrieve a ricocheted hairband using a bungee cord.  #oyvey Oh, Sayler.... You make me laugh. You make naps sound like the greatest staycation fantasy.  And I like when you say things that make me chuckle. Like yesterday... You stumbled upon a YouTube video (featuring toys) upon which you declared the wish for a "Baby Born" doll. I placated you, as I always do, indicating "I'm not sure if the shops around here sell those..." To which you decidedly responded: "you can get it at Amazon dot com". And earlier I asked "what do you want to watch [on TV]" to which you offered up the usual answer: "Clarence."  And with a thoughtful pause you added: "Not 'The Bachelor'.... That would be weird". Okay- I get it. I am the only one who admits to being a fan of "The Bachelor" series franchise (Lloyd watches it too... don't let him deny it) and someday maybe you'll enjoy watching it with

One-A-Day

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I told my husband the same thing I had told my midwife several months prior: I feel like I can only manage one thing every day. And that is the state of me in 2016. And when too many things come my way I can feel the chink in my mental chain. I become disoriented. Literally, actually. On a usually familiar jog last week I had a few minutes of feeling somewhat lost in my own neighborhood. Which way to the gravel path? It's like being somewhere between lost in thought, mentally drained and  emotionally wiped out. Though the irony of 2016 is that I couldn't be more fulfilled and each day more grateful for all I have....     I might even be brash enough to say it's the happiest time of my life.  But there's still that chink in my chain. It is the anxiety of going back to work which makes me so sad (so, so sad). To leave my babies at this pivotal stage of their little lives feels like a stun gun to my heart.  It is the unwillingness to face this stage of life where parents g

Sour Patch Kid

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It's like putty. The stuff you put over holes to fill them. That's putty, right? And I've discovered that no matter how much putty you put in the holes and cracks to make things better there will always be some voids, cracks, holes and hollows we cannot fill. Sometimes the putty does a good job though... Doesn't it?  Temporarily.  And it continually surprises me that no matter how amazing and full of wonder and laughter the world can bring and give us, it will always leave us with holes, as well. Sometimes you don't see the holes right away. Sometimes, for a while, the hollows aren't so noticeable. Sometimes they are there for days.... months... Years.  Lying in wait to be felt. And then one day to see or feel that hollow that cannot be filled is like a punch in the stomach. Like bubbles in a tide pool coming to the surface.  .all at once.  And you will text one of your closest friends to say "I feel like I am losing my mind..." And that is the putty.