Deuces

We're just about ready.   We are almost prepared to close this year,   and start another.   The three of us.   The amigos,   The trifecta,   Tres Flores,   The trio,   The first of the prime ones...   My Baby, my Husband and I.   The ones I can count on,   When others fail me,   When the rest don't understand   Or remain unaffected,   They are affected.   They support me.   They lift me up when I am down.   She who sees the world with innocent eyes,   and He who sees the world as it should be.   Not through numeric values and statistics   or rhetoric   but with hopeful fortitude, compassion and holding tight to all that is Good.   My Baby, my Husband and I      

Daughter, When I look at your hair I marvel at the big, bountiful curls that adorn your head. You'll never know how much I love your hair.  As a kid I always, always, always desperately wanted big 80's hair and every attempt to tease my straight mane left me sad and tangled. Somehow, I survived the hair famine of 88' and live to tell about it.  Perhaps because of the more recent trends of straight, flat-ironed hair I can hold my flat hair-head high, wave my hot ironed locks to and fro and look proud. But still, Despite big hair being a bit "out" I still wish I had it.  It must have been in 2nd grade when the force became strong within. The other day as we sat at story time I watched you with your big, beautiful hair looking intently at the teacher reading the short story.  I wondered then if you would always love story time and if you would always have wild, enviable hair. In 2nd grade I had Mrs. Martin.  (It could have been "Miss" or ...

Dodgy Bapple. Not  together. Always apart. "Dodgy" is your latest word, sweet Sayler. A few weeks ago I became suspicious when you pointed to a picture of Eeyore and said "dadgy". "DOGGY!?"  I squealed.  To which you looked at me blankly and again said "Dadgy".  It sounded awfully close to "daddy" and although daddy doesn't resemble a blue donkey, I decided to not give credit where credit wasn't yet due and I left the new word to linger in vocabulary purgatory. As the days passed, however, it was evident that "dodgy" was your new, well-credited word. Every dog we see or hear barking you immediately identify, point, make your 'uh-oh' face and yell "dodgy!". The Christmas sea lions in our front yard? Those, too, are dodgies. The bird at Target that we fed Goldfish too? That was a "dodgy". And every other animal, monster, creature or crawling, slinking amphibian is, Yo...

I went to Etiwanda High School. Sometimes I forget I was once a student there. In fact, as odd as it may seem I don't have many memories of my 4 years in high school.  It's as though the memories, one by one, started to vanish. The people from high school that were once my friends are now my adult friends and so it is even difficult to remember them, as they were, back then. Sometimes my adult, long-standing friends help me remember moments, events, people, classes and things that had long since been absorbed in my mind and replaced with more current events. But the only person that would remind me I went to Etiwanda High School for 2 summers would have been my dad, and he is now gone. As I made my way through a long windy road to work today I suddenly remembered the long, windy road to Etiwanda many early mornings. My dad drove me.  Every day.  5 days a week for... perhaps 6-8 weeks. I'm not sure I ever said, "Thanks, Dad." Not that he minded. ...

I have been wanting to write this for a while now. For, like , a long long long while. But I ran into three problems, Amber. The first: I couldn't find words to express how much you mean to me. Two: I knew that once we went public with our relationship people would say, Amber and Cambria? When did they become such good friends? Three: Once people knew how incredibly awesome you were, they would try to steal you from me. I mean, who wouldn't? But I am making a go of it anyway because, frankly, you deserve it. True, we werent of BFF's in high school. But, we would steal glances from across the hall and perhaps our psyches were telling us we were meant to be together. It wasn't until later years when we reconnected and sparks flew. I knew immediately you were the person I wanted to spend the rest of my friendship life with. If I had to put it plainly, In human speak, You are truly amazing. You are the kind of friend that doesn't forget ...

When people probe me about what it's like being a working mom, my answer is always easy, joyful and full of pride. "I feel like I'm giving her the best gift." "How so?", others press. "She gets to be around other kids during the day.  She gets to do arts and crafts and go to the park and learn how to follow someone else's rules.  She gets to play with others her age, she learns about how to communicate with these other small children who are incommunicable... She understands that in her daycare provider's home, there are no favorites. It's all the things I can't give her at home, even if I wanted to.  I am over-joyed that there is yet another person in this world that loves Sayler and wants the best for her." Rebecca is our daycare provider.  I feel so happy that there is yet another person in this world that loves Sayler and gets to watch her grow.  Oftentimes when I pick up Say, Rebecca and I will talk about the f...

Squat, Lunge, Grunt, Crawl, Jump, Heave, Groan When will I soon decide I won't complain or moan? Spiderman's and Supermans and Arnie's and kicks, Why is this bootcamp instructor such a nobbing prick? Bear crawls, crab walks, robots and flys, I can't seem to love to sweat, how hard I continue to try. Curls, pulls, tossing tires, planks and countless burpees, all designed, I'm pretty sure, to pers-on-al-ly hurt me. Ouch! I'm ready for some abs, like the ones in the 'zines, but why must I crunch so much I can barely even breathe? Protein shakes and low-cal bakes? No. Powdered, coated, vanilla-glazed cakes Yes! Fitness- Memory repression, Couch-sitting obsession, & Late-night snack sessions Keep me coming back... Push, reach, extend, balance, cross, "hustle", "faster", and "keep going", all have me thinking about chocolate chip cookies. Wait, that didn't rhyme. Oops. ...