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Can I have your hand

Posted on December 9, 2012

She asks me each night with an impish grin, “Mama, can I have your hand?” It’s part and parcel of bedtime, this game of gentle tug of war. “Just let me hold your hand, but you’ll be too tired to pull, so you’ll sleep here.” Her eyes shine, big and bright and as perfect as they were in those early weeks of hours spent gazing at her . She quivers with an implicit, “C’mon, mom.” I say ok. Holding hands, I lean toward the door, she makes campy moves to fall out of bed, I swing toward the bed, back and forth we go until I stop. “I’m too tired. I. Need. To. Sleep,” and I collapse (delicately) over her. I feign magnificent snoring and…

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A Small Shop

Posted on November 26, 2012

This time of year brings out a lot in people—not good, not bad, just very at-the-surface things. There are traditions and aversions, old wounds from years past and new hurts to survive. We move through the paces not knowing who might be hurting and who might be at long last feeling the effervescence of hope. We spent the days leading up to Thanksgiving preparing for Shop Small Saturday. The girls helped with trimmings for the store and at work it was all hands on deck—new prints, new designs and unexpected good news. Before that momentous Saturday, we had an unbelievably wondrous Thanksgiving. Days from now my parents will arrive. Snow is falling just outside as I type and the patterns of our spent-together weekend gleam in…

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Posted on November 14, 2012

She writes from waiting rooms, literal and figurative. Her updates paint a portrait that but for a few brushstrokes could be my own. There isn’t a word she shares that doesn’t make me think—sometimes it’s Eugene in the late 70s, other times it’s different track meets for different high schools and other times still it is: Am I grateful enough? It’s morbid and pointless, but when someone is going through something you imagine what if it was me? Or maybe that’s just me. I find myself searching so deep, wishing for something else that I could do, some combination of words that might make her situation not so. Even this post, I struggle because is this self indulgent, does this help in any way?…

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Posted on November 9, 2012

Heigh-ho, heigh-ho it’s home from work we go It was a busy, busy week. I am, after a revelation about the hollow reward of self-flagellation, overlooking the hiccups and tardiness and chalking this week up to the win column. Everyone had clean socks, bedtime cuddles and tonight we’ll make good on a movie night promise with a trip to Wreck-It Ralph. While we devour what is rumored to be a beautiful weekend, the newest addition to the Nine High Peaks line will be rolling into production. We may, mostly because the girls delight in helping at the store, head in on Monday to do a bit of holiday decorating in preparation for Thursday’s festivities. I am so very grateful that it is Friday. I…

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