Actually, he’s better than a rock star. He’s more of a stubble and a bit of sunburn, tasting slightly of lake water and summer playing guitar ’round the campfire kind of guy. Saturday night he did it for a good cause and I still have chills. Go show my baby daddy a little comment love, will ya?
Finley will be 1 year old on the 30th of this month. Avery will be 3 on the 15 of next month and this fall Briar will turn 5 and begin kindergarten. I find myself laying the springs of the past five years over one another, deepening and or lightening the hues of my life depending upon they way I arrange them. Yet, even as they change, certain pangs remain. Fin’s newly discovered walking and running talent has me grinning from ear to ear, each step leads her closer to some victory, whether it’s lifting and clutching a baby to her chest or latching on to my ankle. She teeters to and from, reminiscent of her sister’s, but in a way that is all…
Avery was sitting on the toilet taking her sweet time as I kept her company. Fin was clinging to my legs and swatting at all manner of chokables. Dinner was simmering, sputtering and overflowing on the stove. Briar called from the other room: “Mom, I’m thirsty. Can you please get me juice?” I called back in a tense voice, “Not now Briar, I am trying to do five things and I CANNOT handle anything else.” She didn’t answer back. I exhaled as Avery laughed. “No, silly, mama. You aren’t doing five things, you’re only doin’ two.” And cue slumping shoulders and wry smile. How many things are you doing?
I remember one morning leaving Sean’s apartment on Park Street someone called to me from the theatre- “Mott, doing the walk of shame, eh?” I was immediately red-face, but cocky at the same time. “You bet I’m doing the walk of shame, have you seen Sean? He’s a fucking Adonis.” I didn’t say it, but I thought it as I replayed the night’s events. I’d fought hard, not able to believe that this guy who looked as if he’d tripped from the pages of a JCrew catalog and into my lap would want pasty, padded me. We were surrounded by actors, many of whom used their looks far more than their talents. I felt a bit like a Hyundai at a performance car show.…
I’ve come to this page more than a dozen times, hoping that somehow the world would twist on its axis and go back, back to a time when this screen hummed with stories of dancing eyes and bubbling giggles. It still does, but the memories are done, or at least their making is. Madeline Alice Spohr, the twinkliest girl I ever saw staring back at me from this screen is gone. Panic, anger, despair and incredulity abound. She seemed too bright a star to lose. In Memory of Madeline Alice SpohrNovember 11, 2007 – April 7, 2009 Please give. Please.