Last week, on Wee One’s (WO) first day of school, I was out with another mom friend whose son was at his first day of kindergarten. (Let’s call her Tilda.)Continue reading “In A Naughty Place?”
The questions come so fast I can barely collect them.
“Mama?” (She always begins with the question, “Mama?” Even if she’s already talking to me. She just has to get my attention special for the next comment.) “What does fair and square mean?”Continue reading “Why, Indeed?”
I just finished watching Little Women, the more recent one. Oh, now my heart.
The 1995 one was very dear to me, and watching this one made me remember when I saw the old one-what life was like then and how different it is now.
I’m also watching it with the eyes of a mother, and the eyes of someone who has now seen 25 years pass. It’s bittersweet, and I cried ugly when Beth died.Continue reading “Thoughts Upon Watching The Most Recent Little Women”
Today is an experiment.Continue reading “The Road to Independence Isn’t a Road”
The approaching holiday season has brought with it a new nemesis: Toy catalogues.
Back in my day, mom had a catalogue with an awesome toy section at the back of it. I remember spending many a happy hour sitting in the plush great chair turning the pages of this book. Week after week. For several years. In sepia-colored hues.
Wee One (WO) has been talking about Jesus and God more, and it’s putting a lump in my throat. It’s a good thing, in my mind, because I wanted to teach her about them, and she’s learning.
When she and I hear emergency sirens, I always comment, “Ooh. Someone’s having a bad day. We should say a prayer for them” (Thanks, parochial school.)
The other day, she heard a siren and commented that someone was having a bad day. I agreed, and she said, “Mommy, tell God.” (LOL)
I think I’ve told you guys about the period of time I was a door canvasser with a political action group. I’d spend five hours a day knocking on doors, and follow it with a couple of hours of drinking. Crash somewhere, maybe home. Repeat. It was a lot of fun for awhile.
During this time, spending every day with hippies and slackers, when people asked how we were we would say noncommittally, “Oh, ya know. Livin’ life.” Which meant we weren’t doing shit.
A memory I wish to save about putting Wee One to bed on night.
The tag line on this blog is “I write to stop time,” and as I get older, I find I want to stop time more and more. (Actually, I don’t know if that’s true. There were moments I loved and wanted to hold onto when I was younger. Of course, I destroyed all my journals from before the accident and those are the memories I don’t have.)
I have to begin letting go.
Right now, Wee One is in a phase when she tells me, “You need me!” which means, “I need you,” or “I want you here with me.”
I used to say that to my mom. I would say, “I wanna hold you.”
Can you believe it? Wee One is four years old.
For the past four years and nine months, I have been anxious and worried and freaking out about how I would handle having a baby and then a toddler. All that talk about terrible twos and the threenager threat. I was so worried about being a good mother to her during that time.