Posts from the “Me” Category

Can’t You See You Like I Do?

Posted on December 8, 2014

“Mama, you are so pretty in that shirt,” I turned to look at where the voice had come from and saw Briar. I had known it was her talking, but the words were so out of context with how I was feeling. Her lips were turned up in the sweetest little smile and her eyes danced, happy. “Thank you, sweet love,” I said smiling at her. My smile was genuine, my face calm, but my insides were racing. I’d gone through the morning bedraggled, stretched out pajama bottoms hanging from my frame, a t-shirt with just a tank top underneath, and my hair doing that 40-something, morning halo of kinks. The bags under my eyes taunt me, even after a night of more than…

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Disparate Realities

Posted on November 25, 2014

This week was intended to be a break. Getting away from work, home, school, everything but each other. We are not amusement park people, we are not, “We’ll take the works package.” I’m not sure why I pressed for it, what happened to make me say, “Let’s do the Orlando thing,” but I did. And we are. We promised one another that we’d roll with whatever happened—lines, crankiness, anything. We hadn’t expected bomb scares/suspicious luggage delays or tornado warnings and biblical deluges, but lo, they passed. I let a few snarky comments fly, but other than that, it just didn’t matter. Until last night. I’d been in my happy, little bubble when I opened my laptop and Sean asked, “Have they announced a verdict?” My mind…

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The Mother of Mom-Themed Links Post

Posted on November 19, 2014

The edges fray as the end of day approaches and I know that there are songs yet to be sung, library books still to be found, and lunches to conjure from wilted arugula and past-prime lunch meat. Staggering to a finish line, but wait, marriage, intimacy, cat litter, laundry, online bill pay, and the thought that maybe the toilet is in fact leaking. Oh, and NaBloPoMo, a commitment that I made. Truthfully it is only to myself, there is no contract, nor agreement, and yet, the reward of finishing it each night is sweet. I just have to slog through a lot of I’m-all-used-up-my-ideas-are-completely-gone. Vikki from Up Popped a Fox made me feel much less alone the other day as I laughed through a relatable…

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A Scene From a Life With Three Daughters

Posted on November 16, 2014

When I pulled into the driveway I could see woodsmoke lacing a trail from our chimney to the trees towering overhead. I smiled, Sean had done his part to welcome me home. My toes wriggled in my shoes in anticipation of walking the familiar floors of our house and resting on the smooth slate tiles as the heat of the flames kissed my feet. I walked into the house and plunked my bags on the ground. Beso immediately came running, emitting a sheepish bark of, “Where did you come from?” I smiled. Next came Ave, “Mom? Mom is that you?” She thundered down the stairs as Finley began shouting, “Mom, mom, ohmygoshmom, ohmygoshmom!” with screams added in between for effect. Briar followed, slightly more subdued, but as…

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Riding Out the Discomfort of the Concept of Self Care

Posted on November 15, 2014

I was sitting in a large room, very much like a sanctuary. It was fairly dark, the room already filled with 60 or 70 people. I followed three people in and walked over to the wall to get one the stacked chairs. I carried the chair to the far side of the room. I noticed no one had shoes on, I cringed as I walked quickly outside and slipped off my shoes, putting them on a shelf by rows of sandals. I hurried back to my chair. There was a man, I want to call him young, but that seems strange. He was in his twenties, I am in my forties, he was young. He had a beard and pony tail and used his…

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