Some of the, sometimes, worst things about this adulthood trap are the deadlines that follow us around. Some of them are smaller and less pressure than others, currently, I am under the most pressing deadline of my life: the birth of my child.
Category: Wee One
Meditation on Morning Sickness
My third trimester approacheth, and with it, morning sickness. It sucks, yet in the midst of that suckage, there is an opportunity for meditation and awe. (This won’t be too gross, I promise.)
Second Trimester Lessons
This second trimester has been SOOO much better than my trimester.
1. Can we talk, again, about how much I love eating stuff I want?
Islands of Slowed Down Time
I bought Mamma Zen over the weekend and just this morning read a chapter on time, reflecting on the artificial demarkations of time (for example, day v. night, which cease to exist with someone whose stomach can only hold four oz).
Sahara’s Two Cents
A first pregnancy is a fruitful time for advice, I was soon warned after the stick turned blue.
Just Digging for Roots in the Ol’ Family Tree
In order to better understand what makes me, I would want to study Greg, my birth father’s, family. I don’t feel like i know that side at all. Most of the information I have is either second-hand or form half-faded memories of a child. I want to understand, as an adult, what I came from. Continue reading “Just Digging for Roots in the Ol’ Family Tree”
Evelyn, the Warrior
Wee Evelyn awoke from her afternoon nap and blinked into the afternoon sunlight, trying to orient herself. The unmoving puppy Pa was there, the blanket ja-ja was there… where was her ninny, her pacifier?
Clutching ja-ja ever tighter, she looked down, hoping to spot it down by her feet. She kicked aside the bootie that had come off her foot to clear out a potential hiding place, to no avail. She exchanged a worried glance with Pa, who told her with a look that he didn’t know where it was either.
Helpful Tips to Create More Space
Cohiba and I have spend the past several weeks looking for a place to move. While our current apartment is actually quite nice and I really like it, (though the drive sucks), we thought we had to move because the apartment is tiny for our needs.
Rather, our accumulated shit is too much for our home.
Is Being “Mom” Cool?
I have had this crappy idea about becoming a mother. But before I confess to the Silent Priest of Public Scrutiny, please understand I do not mean any insult or disrespect with these ideas. This is my own hang up, I know.
My Impossible Girl
This is a true story, and it was something I entered for a Writing Contest.
The world breaks everyone and afterward many are strong in the broken places. Ernest Hemingway, A Farewell to Arms, 1929
I don’t remember much of that time in ’97, but I do remember when my doctor told me I couldn’t have children. The pins holding the bones of my shattered pelvis together would puncture my uterus as a child grew.
I Didn't Just Wake Up This Morning With A Craving 