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.
Continue reading “I Wish I Could Have This”
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)
Continue reading “Papa Has Got New Bones?”
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.
- Playing drums in a rooftop jam session. The guy bending over, Andy, ODed a few years later. Livin’ life.
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.
Continue reading “Livin’ Life”
A memory I wish to save about putting Wee One to bed on night.
Continue reading “One Night’s Bedtime Routine”
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.”
Continue reading “Some Days Are Hard”
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.
Continue reading “Four Years Old”
My girlfriends and I were talking the other day about feeling like “Whoa” about being adults, because two of us had just gone to our first parent-teacher conference.
Continue reading “Adulting Fail”