Deuces

Sayler is kind. It's the kind of thing that could go unnoticed rather easily... Behind her boisterous confidence and cool shoulder shrugs- she sometimes projects a kind of  'unaffectedness' common in 5 year old children. But nothing goes unnoticed by her.  Last week she asked to borrow my nice stationary- the set I had *just bought from Target that I immediately loved.  I sighed heavily, longingly looking at the adorable cardstock and envelop that I would not get back, quietly calculating who I would have to forgo sending a card  to from the pile. But I relented, because it's Sayler.  Smooth, slick, sugary, spicy Sayler. She proceeded to write an assortment of sight words on her card. "Amarillo"... "Rojo"... "Esta".... She added a few hearts- the skinny tall hearts that are not chunky and round as mine were as a child. The reduced fat hearts... The paleo-hearts... The Atkins hearts... She said she was going to give it to 'Emma'- a g...

Alana, You are a wonderful and easy baby. I look forward to cradling you in my arms each day, and staring into your eyes. I can't do it for long. Because you wiggle free, or your eyes dart to the attention of your sister... always your sister. Or as we stare at one another you may use a free hand to grab the fat of my cheek or the fat of my chin (ouch!) and our staring session ends because... It can be a little painful, AJ.  I only have one face, you know... But it was worth the pinch and reminder I need to lay off the Milano cookies. But in those moments before you wiggle and grunt under the weight of my hands trying to hug you closer, I am devoted to only you. I want you to know that I love when you smile and look my way. You extend your arms outward and wave your wrists.... Up... Down... Up... Down... Your delicate fingers sometimes following with their own movements. And this means, You want to be held. I will pick you up, pull you close, so close I know it makes you uncomforta...

You're one of a kind. You're walking. You're 8 months. You're asleep. You're clever. You're sweet. You're observant. You're forgiving. How did I come to deserve you?       

Your hand on my knee, Come drive with me To wade in an ocean salty I'll claw fingers through sand, Sun on my hands The warmth to the cool on wet palms For a time, we'll bask Good humor with laugh, Hold tight, hold tight, remember

We strolled the grocery aisles- a family of four. We were hungry and homeless-looking, coming straight from a run and play at the park.  Our hands were probably dirty. Our clothes were sweaty. My "messy hair, don't care" bun teetered to one side of my head, reminding the world I needed a cut and color immediately.  Within the store stood a small McDonald's.   Lloyd nodded toward the menu. "Do you want anything?" My face scrunched tightly, revealing my disdain for fast food. "It's still one of the things I can't eat, after all those years being a vegetarian..." I explained.  I took another glance at the menu, pausing thoughtfully as I scanned- the rumble in my abdomen reminding me I was hungry.  The look of disgust on my face didn't match the salivation in my mouth- the scenario took me back a year.  In that moment, I remembered. I remembered the random cravings I had while pregnant with Alana.  One of them wa...

I looked up from my phone. I saw the flashing lights from my periphery- a motorcycle cop passing by the school. I was sitting in my car- a hot day keeping me patiently seated behind the comforts of the blasting AC while waiting for the school bell to ring so I could collect Sayler. I was reading this story:  http://4.nbcla.com/975hphw When my attentions were diverted to the funeral procession. My heart stopped for a moment. I sat gazing. Watching each vehicle in the procession pass slowly by the elementary school. To my right, my daughter safely sat in class; to my left, grieving family and friends in their vehicles. The dichotomy struck me. I became sadly numb- the sense of loss penetrating through the confines of this vessel with the welcoming breeze from air vents breezing past my face. I am alive. Sometimes these reminders strike me in ways that are hard to explain as I fumble through days full of common core kinder realities and diaper changes and my children's many milestones...

These girls...