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Bow-legged Bump

Posted on March 28, 2008

Well, there is no denying it. I’ve entered the unmistakable last lap of the race. My form is out the window, my pace irregular and a steam of anger seems to rise as each stride has me cursing having ever entered the damn race. This is not to say that I am not rapturously in love with this amazing little spitfire growing in my belly or that I would turn the hands of time back and say, “Know what? Two is fine.” I am just sick of being pregnant. Today, dressed in a nice pair of slacks, a flirty purple XL non-maternity t-shirt with fluttery cap sleeves and black pumps, I felt cute. The hair worked, falling just so and my eyeliner went on…

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Hey, that’s mine!

Posted on March 26, 2008

When Sean and I were coming up with names back in the summer of ’04, I knew I wanted something unique. We had never talked about names so it was a bit of a slap in the face to realize that the whole naming thing was kind of a big deal. “What do you mean you like that name? Girls with *that* name are always bitches.” “That’s a fat name.” “Uh, no child of mine, thank you very much!” It got kind of ugly, then, sitting in lawn chairs in the backyard, me with an uncarbonated beverage of some sort, Sean with a light beer (grrrr), we stumbled upon Briar. It was perfect, both of us loving it almost instantly. Fast forward some 15…

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Reckoning heartbreak

Posted on March 26, 2008

There is nearly an entire wall of glass, beyond which there are oddly industrial yet romantic fire escape ladders. The sun pours in, washing the entire space in a honey glow. Beneath the window is a run of pipe, shuttling hot air from the radiator to and fro across the back wall, above it runs another pipe, tailor made for little kids to shimmy and scurry along. “Look at me, mama? I’m a’walkin’.” Along another wall there are bins and baskets filled with toys. Mismatched, bedraggled and forgotten, until the sun hits the chime of the tambourine just right and they careen as one to the trove of neglected fun, reviving it in an instant with their squeals of delight. “Ooh, looky-dat, a Buzz…

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Confession born from compliments

Posted on March 24, 2008

A writer friend of mine has long contended that blogs are a mechanism for receiving instant gratification, “It’s navel gazing. You can’t improve because it’s done with a bunch of people poised to fawn over each word that you type.” Not exactly the kind of thing that makes you feel lifted, and while I don’t entirely disagree with elements of his opinion, I think it undersells us as a community. Yes, there are lesser writers and yes, they often soar to the top for reasons seeming to stem from something other than the quality of their writing. I’ll also concede that there are plenty of sweet comments posted, but I think there is great encouragement, challenging and collaboration. I have watched friendships and alliances…

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Stunt Belly

Posted on March 23, 2008

You ever look at a picture of yourself and think, “Do I really look like that?” Sean was taking happy, rumpled Easter morning pics and as I scanned them I thought, “Damn, that looks like a stunt belly.” Is that a belly button in your shirt, or are you just happy to see me? It’s a study in strained stretch cotton. After I got over the shock of just how how my belly looks in profile, I caught a glimpse of this next shot wherein I perform an impromptu Easter version of The Supremes “Stop in the Name of Love” complete with ridiculous gesturing. Then, ever questing to entertain and delight the girls, I tried my hand at playing Vanna White. Eventually the mixture…

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