It’s still fairly early on a Sunday when the three-year-old calls the dog an idiot.
“Come here sweetie pie, come here you little idiot,” she singsongs from the playroom.
I’m not sure where she got the idea that “idiot” is some kind of term of endearment. I know when I’m calling people idiot as they swerve into my lane without signaling when I drive down the highway, no doubt late to somewhere, I’m not using it in a nice way.
At least she didn’t call the dog an asshole.
Still, I hang my head over the cucumber I’m slicing, ignore whoever foot-steps into the kitchen as though nothing of great concern has happened, as though I didn’t hear the three-year-old at all. I even start humming. Continue reading “No Big Deal”
I could hear the rumble of the crowd from the narrow alcove just off stage, but I couldn’t bring myself to peek out. We were the last act, the big finish. Suddenly, my jeans felt too tight, my mouth parched.
“Anyone have any water?” I croaked. Someone handed me a juice box. This was a bad idea. Continue reading “Finding My Voice, Even If It’s a Little Off Key”
I can’t remember my routine or rituals before I had children. Back then, everything was my own: my time, my breakfast, the good morning kiss with my husband. Maybe there was the ritual of showering in peace or toast with butter, the routine of catching MUNI at a certain time to get to work by 8:30 a.m. After work, there was room for drinks with coworkers, a movie, dinner out. At the end of the day there was the comfy couch and Josh, a book, sex, sleep. Life was an easy flowing river.
Now, life’s a constant class 4 rapid and I’m often the one steering the raft. Continue reading “The Ritual That Saves Me”
In some ways, this has been a year of profuse connection. In other ways, I’ve never felt more alone. My writing connected me to people both close to home and far away as well as to hundreds of thousands out in the world. The whirlwind of publishing, commenting, connecting, the pinging back and forth of heartfelt sentiments and “me too!” was incredibly rewarding. Connecting in that way was like being inside a big, warm hug – but it was mostly online.
The alone part comes after the rush of attention. Continue reading “Connections”
I am not a huge “selfie” taker but I did manage to either snap or be snapped in a few this year. They’re not artsy, just real life. Here are my favorites:
Getting ready to hit the ice rink.
Continue reading “The Year’s Favorite Selfies”
We’re on time so why do I feel like we’re on the late side?
The dog is out of the car and peeing on the driveway. Does dog pee stain asphalt? I might need to hose that down.
The kids left the car doors open. As usual.
I forgot to pack the jackets. What is wrong with me? For crying out loud. What does that even mean?
I hope it doesn’t get cold. Oh, perfect: rain.
Dinner is going to be Chinese food. No one wants to cook the night before The Big Meal. Continue reading “The Voice Inside My Head”