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Oh Otto – you are such a boy.
It’s those sturdy legs. Calf muscles bulging. I like hiking behind my Wilde Otto Fox. He walks with a legitimate swagger and he is only five years old. Yes, yes. Of course I am partial to this kid. That’s what we mothers do. It’s how the world is supposed to work. You pick your children and you like them best.…
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in the blue bag
Sometimes you just have to laugh. One night this week I tried to eat my delicious salad dinner in the car. On a pottery plate with a regular fork. That’s crazy guys. (I know my friend Hilary does it all the time. I sent her a picture and said I felt just like her.) When I arrived at my destination…
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stream of consciousness: thursday edition
It’s after midnight. I just had a conversation with my son. Apparently no one can get any routine sleep in this house. Life is just hard, ya’ll. It. Is. Hard. And I am tired. Tired of sleepless nights and tired of sad afternoons. I’m tired. Like the kind of literal tired as in – I don’t get enough sleep. And…
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the business details. (in which I present ways you can help me.)
Well. I’ve been trying this Amazon link thing somewhat subtlety for the past year or so. It’s been working …… like …….. meh. I mean, it’s not steady by any means. Some months my kickback is zero. Some months it’s a whooping twenty dollars. Around Christmas it creeped up a little higher for a fun month or two. I know…
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As You Wish
No more rhymes now, I mean it. Anybody want a peanut? I’m not a movie person per se. But I have an emotional attachment to a handful of films. One in particular. The Princess Bride. This attachment is based perhaps on my one hundred plus times viewing this film one summer in the the late 1980’s. I blame it on…
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Midnight.
He’s five. She’s eleven. Last night they fell asleep side by side in her bed. Big sister. Little brother. They fell asleep and they were holding hands. As in – interlocking fingers holding hands. That is sugary sweet enough to give me cavities. My word. Preciousness defined. Those intertwined fingers. Post race exhaustion having won the wide awake battle. And…
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nevertheless
My dad said, “Aren’t two tattoos excessive for a forty-one year old mother of six?” I laughed. Grinned at him. And then. Weeks later. A message left on my phone’s voice mail. His tractor-trailer-driving muffled voice at the same familiar lilt I’ve known since birth. “And what will you tell your children when they want a tattoo?”…
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hello. kitty.
Mornings are still slow. The chalkboard wall that declares chores done and breakfast served by 8:30 every a.m. is a chalky liar lately. The culprits are obvious. Sleepless nights. Crowded beds. The other morning was an anomaly tough. A breakthrough. “Rise and shine,” I’m whispering to the sleepers beside me – of which there are only two. A small number,…
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Cooking Conversations
“Mommy, will you sit with me in the kitchen while I make the scones?” It’s after ten p.m. on a Friday night. She is eleven, but only for about three more months. Scout’s Scones has an order and we have a crowded schedule tomorrow so it’s baking time tonight for this young entrepreneur. I gather my supplies – blue ink…
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The Dolphin Tour (you should know I was tempted to title this “the dolphin’s tale” but I deemed it too silly)
Everyone agrees about dolphins – right? They’re kind of magical and other worldly. I don’t know exactly why. No trip to the coast ever feels truly complete to me if that trip doesn’t involve at least one dolphin sighting. And when you see that one sleek dolphin rising and falling right in the gigantic ocean, you feel a little amazed.…
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lyrics
I heard this song on Sunday for the first time. It fits everything about everything right now. Jesus Draw Me Ever Nearer – lyrics by Margaret Becker Jesus draw me ever nearer As I labour through the storm. You have called me to this passage, and I’ll follow, though I’m worn. May this journey bring a blessing, May I rise…
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returning …
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simple advice.
I walk into this meeting and a kind friend asks, “How are you?” Who knew “how are you?” would become such a loaded question? And I shrug. Talk about how much I dislike pumping gas in the rain, about how I couldn’t get that blasted tent into its two inch case, share a couple heavy fears. You know, way too…
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nighttime says this ….
They’re like dominoes. Night falls. One comes down the steps. Tip toe. Stomp. Creak. Tip toe. Creak. Creak. Creak. And the bed fills up. Five times over. By the time my bedtime arrives, I’m looking for any ounce of room. It’s a king sized bed but its regal size isn’t large enough for all this kid royalty. Sleeping big kids…
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