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Breaking my heart

Posted on December 5, 2011

Finley: Oh, mama. Me: Yes, love? Finley: Mama, you are breaking my heart. You’re just making it to be broken and broken. Me: I am? How, sweets? Finley: You just aren’t seeing my happy, I can tell it in your face. She snapped this picture of me. She’s right. Been facing some hard times, and while I put on a brave face, these faces captured (again and again) by the girls with my phone tell a different story. Are you revealing your worry? I am going to focus more on this face, it’s worth trying to copy.

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After the Librarian

Posted on November 29, 2011

Did you ever ape the old cliché of the librarian ripping off her glasses and letting down her hair? I was a tomboy through to my core, but when no one was looking I’d try to have just a taste of what being a femme fatale was like. My costume of choice was a towel fashioned as a halter dress. it was inspired by Three’s Company, but always came out way more Mrs. Roper than Crissy. The tie would go in front, leaving me with a grapefruit sized knot at my throat. I would put on my Oakland A’s batting helmet, tucking my hair in tight, and then putting on my dad’s thick eyeglasses. I’d have to lean into the mirror very close to…

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Betwixt blur and focus

Posted on November 24, 2011

I’ve always been a dreamer, prone to joy or weeping depending upon my mood. The other day a mist was sitting low all over town. It kept pulling my attention until finally I gave into it and pulled over. Where I stopped was right next to the office I went for my prenatal visits with Briar, now converted to an office of some sort. My eyes misted as I traveled back to those weeks and months anticipating becoming a mom. I find myself suspended between then and one day a lot lately. I don’t discourage these flights of imagination, but I am understanding as I experience more and more loss, that it is in this space with mist on either side that I must…

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Banking Calm

Posted on November 18, 2011

Last night I stayed downstairs after everyone went to bed. The day had been a exercise in time management—dueling drop offs, office, store, early release, fundraiser purchases pick up, drop off at Nana’s, parent teacher conference, decorate the shop, finish emails, back to Nana’s, home, dinner, homework, laundry, more store prep. It felt like the day itself was hyperventilating and I was just caught in the ragged, futile breaths. Sean saw me unraveling and suggested a run. “I’ll handle stories and bedtime. You, just go, clear your head and have some time to yourself.” After the protesting, which I seem incapable of forgoing, I bundled up for a run and slapped a leash on the dog. Walking down our driveway I felt my tension descend,…

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Years go by

Posted on November 15, 2011

A little over a year ago we slipped out of town for a long weekend. Thanksgiving weekend, it was, and our intent was to have the distance from deadlines and ought-tos to be able to really breathe. Packing up for an event that sort of revolves around home isn’t the easiest, but with the desire to get away being so potent, we seemed to think of nearly everything and what we forgot was easily forgiven. Forty five minutes into the drive our shoulders rolled down into a soft resting place and we began to sing and sway to a melody that wanted nothing but to be enjoyed. I was scrolling through those pictures and I wouldn’t trade those four days for the world. We…

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