When I walked up the narrow staircase one week ago today, darkness had already enveloped our country home. It was night-time, around 10:00 p.m. when I knocked on your closed bedroom door, asking if I might come in. You were reading, a bed-side light shining its sheen across the page. The room was awash in …
I stand beside her, tipping the muffin tray ever so slightly so that the batter will have that much more of a chance of making it into the hollow. She is intent on her task: lifting two ‘full-to-running-over’ spoons dripping with banana cupcake batter up and over the side of the porcelain bowl, toward the …
It was one of those nights. Home late from an after-school appointment, I grabbed a box of cardboard-thin mini-pizzas and a bag of fries out of the freezer in the hopes that no one would notice my lackluster performance as tonight’s leading chef. As I threw the un-nutritional meal of the day into the oven, …
A hug takes but a second. But that is hard for a big brother to understand, let alone tolerate. And she is tormenting him. Mercilessly. Arms wrapped around his waist in a vice-grip. He allows her for but a moment longer, and then I can see that he’s had enough. He says something smart- words …
Post-Mother’s Day 2013 (survived!). And so here I am reflecting now, on a few of my favorite things. Mothers and holidays and good old-fashioned truth-telling. Blog style. And I got to thinking about motherhood. About the mothers I know and love, and about how each special mother, from those who are steady and patient to …
That moment. When you feel so very, very horrible. And all because you have left your middlest child at the rink, waiting for the better part of an hour because you had no way to get in touch with her. And all because you were driving from Point A to Point B to Point C …
I succumbed to new depths of misery today, in the form of the after-school ski program. I literally, no word of a lie, pulled Littlest One up three cross-country ski- hills, most of which while holding both her poles and mine. And the only music to my ears was her incessant wailing, I mean full-out …
Sometimes. A body just needs to know. To feel. A mother’s love. To know that she is there. That she’s within arm’s length, when storylines get dark, ominous, sinister. That she is only a whisper away. When the plot thickens to a portentous climax. When the theatrics prove a bit too much to take. One …
Here it is- confessions of a good enough mother. Because slacker is such a strong word. I admit it. I use nearly-rotten bananas in smoothies and quickly hide the skins in the compost container. Just so the kids don’t see what grossness they are actually drinking. I also own up to the fact that when …
Do something with your days of which you can be proud. Even today. Start right now. For it is never too late to begin making moments count. Make your one life meaningful, and make it worth the breath it took to get you through the day. Do something worthwhile. Do this for yourself. Do this …
I wake up before 6:00 a.m. to a child stealing my pillow and a husband snoring. Happy Mother’s Day, 2012. I crawl out of bed to ready for the day of festivities…birthday present openings and birthday breakfast for the ten-year old, phone calls, church, dinner out, visits with family, church again, lesson planning for tomorrow, …
My “adopted” mother was an elegant woman with immaculate nails and gorgeous ebony skin. She and her father lived in a neighborhood on the far side of town where they owned a little piece of land that boasted lush flower gardens and a bountiful vegetable garden. I came to live with Alice when I was …
