Category: kids
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In the Still of the Night
I wrote this seven years ago. It’s on my mind again this week, as Allegra has left for ten days in Europe on a school trip. Every time I walk past her bedroom, my heart clutches. It’s dark in there. She’s not on her bed, listening to music. Her whiteboards of to-do lists are static.…
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Preschool Pom Poms
Out of the cacophony of Facebook, good things can emerge. Tips, recommendations, friendships, support, connections, networking — all of these have come to me through Facebook. But my favorite Facebook moments happen when a thinking person uses the platform for storytelling. My friend Ellen is a master at maximizing the Facebook space for sharing vignettes…
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The Creek Elves
He doesn’t care that I’m running past him, earbuds in. From his three-foot height, perspective is a tricky thing. Intending to slide by, I smile at the little boy. As soon as his eyes meet mine, though, words fly through the gap in his top front teeth. A big boy at age six, he shouts: “I…
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Swiftly
The whole thing took less than a second–the fleeting fraction of a second, in fact. It was a flash. A blip. A blur. The whole thing passed so quickly I didn’t fully feel it until the next day, the day after, again today, right now, in the dark, petrified spot at the bottom of my stomach, that fisted knot…
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They Delight Me
I sat in the stylist’s chair, getting my mane snipped. As another tuft of hair floated to the floor, the stylist made conversation, asking, “So what’s it like, parenting a 14-year-old girl?” It was a nominal question, meant to fill time, to keep us from silence. Even before I responded, the stylist anticipated the tone and content of…
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Blind-sided and Gobsmacked
It was just a regular day, suddenly sucking. Very fatigued that morning, I managed to dress myself, even hooking my bra–not just letting The Ladies dangle and flap in the wind. I even managed to apply a little slap and hairspray, getting in costume to mimic an adult. Exiting the house, the door slammed…
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She Couldn’t Pour Water Out of a Boot If The Instructions Were on the Heel
A few weeks ago, I was driving a van load of kids towards sweet treats. In addition to massaging the New York Times crossword puzzle, pushing back my cuticles, and pouring Malbec down my gullet, this is what I do. I drive the small people. Towards the ice cream. Right around the Lake Street…
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My Mama Pimped Me Out Well Before Misty’s Meth-Addicted Baby Daddy Dropped Her on the Corner of Hollywood & Vine
In my youth, a popular comic strip drawn by Stan Lynde called Rick O’Shay ran in the Billings Gazette. Oh, didn’t we chuckle at the exploits of that sheriff and the ragbag crew that staggered across the panels of his life. Lawsy, but we chortled at the antics of O’Shay’s preciously-monikered friends and colleagues in…
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The Spindly Nasturtiums
Photos like these remind my head to think nice things about these miniature people– lest the only thought in my brain regarding them be, “Horton hears a tinkle, but what age do y’all need to be before the pee actually goes into the toilet instead of getting mopped up by my pasty white heinie when…
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From the Mouth of Dinko
A few days ago, my new blog pal August, smitten with my irrepressible boy, challenged him to answer the Vanity Fair questionnaire that’s been making the rounds. Wee Niblet, aka “Dinko,” has subscribed to Vanity Fair for years now–two of them, to be exact (the subscription came about during potty training, as he put in…