Picking the girls up from the sitter’s house today: Me: Ok girls, let’s go. They stood in the car (yes, we did buy a mini-van, and no, I am not ready to give up calling my vehicle a car, despite its irrefutable vanness) staring at me. Me: Come on girls. Hurry up, get in your seats or I am going to pee. Briar: Are you going to pee in the car, mommy? Me: No, honey, but I really have to go, so let’s hurry. A: Mommy peein’. Me: No, not quite yet, but hopefully soon. Briar: Mama, did you drink something that makes you pee? Me: I guess I must have. A: Mama peein’. Briar: Here let me check. I was buckling Avery in…
Archive for
Apologies to the Gingers of the world. And further apologies to all those people who think that because we have daughters with names beginning with “a” and “b” that our next should have a name beginning with a “c.” It ain’t gonna happen. So far she won’t be called: Claire – makes me think of Judd Nelson in the Breakfast ClubChloe – already taken by someone I knowCleo – makes me think of the strung out sister from ERCressida – not sure why, just too much name I thinkCalla – just can’t seem to fully embrace it Nor will she be called: Ginger – too inviting of male fantasiesLaurel – too reminiscent of the comedianElysium – too many syllablesClover – too well suited for…
Categories: Random
The only thing I can figure is at some point I slipped into a fugue state of sorts. There’s just no explanation for this misery, this insufferable, debilitating discomfort other than a marathon session at the buffet-o-deep-fried-foods. Chimichangas for seven?Brawts, horseradish and beer?Jalapeno poppers and a blooming onion?Raw onions and tabasco? I swear I’ve never had any of these things, but the pain that radiates from pelvis to esophagus suggests otherwise. We’re going on day three of me walking around clutching my belly and moaning, that is when I’m not belching, wincing or hiccuping. I suppose the good thing is I am simply to exhausted and consumed by my gastro-intestinal distress to bemoan my size or sallow skin. Excuse me, it’s too hard to…
Categories: Me
I’m sitting in the big chair in the girls room, legs crossed, laptop nestled beneath my belly and between my knees. Both girls are asleep on their backs, each facing away from the wall and toward each other. I trimmed their bangs this morning, Briar’s forehead is a seashell pink, dusted by two sandy arches, Avery’s an ethereal milky color, her brows like artist’s strokes of charcoal. The light coming through the white panels and pink sheers is soft, the world beyond a brilliant white, silent and serene, as inch after inch of snow falls in impossibly tiny flakes. We’ve spent the morning making Valentine’s, wood puttying nail holes in the trim work in the kitchen, and slurping chicken noodle soup through straws. I’ve…
It is a rare occasion when I truly make the deliberate decision to create a harbor for Sean and I to have time alone while the girls are at home and awake. Tonight as I was getting dinner ready I asked Sean if he wanted to have a snack in the kitchen or in front of the news. Shrugging his shoulders he said, “Makes no difference to me.” Not missing a beat I said, “We’ll probably be able to talk more if we stay in here,” so we did. Snacking on chips and salsa we talked about the day and worked out hiccups we’d both had. Before long I had the girls’ dinners dished up and cooling on the table. “Let’s just eat dinner…