Indigenous Peoples’ Day, what do those words conjure up for you? For myself, it’s a sensitive subject of my questionable origin. It’s a strange sad question I’m asked, without fail, any time I mention being Native American. “What percentage are you?” If you were to ask anyone else how white or black they were you… Read More Passable Passiveness.
You may be right. (And, no, I’m not quoting Billy Joel.) Here’s your moment to feel justified. You’re right. There, you heard it, satisfied? It seems that’s all anyone wants to hear anymore. Watching the news doesn’t sound any different than listening to my kids fight over toys. I find myself saying to the tv… Read More You’re right.
My daughter peaks over my shoulder, sees the photo of the Tri-Met Max train below the headlines, “Is that our train? Are you reading about trains?…” I tuck my phone away and surprise hug her close as I wipe away tears. She giggles and wiggles lose, sees my tears and runs for a tissue for me, “Are… Read More Did it break down?
We survived G.W., we suffered through his father, and Reagan before him. We’ll survive this jackass. (See the following lovely examples of our past presidential mistakes: http://m.huffpost.com/us/entry/10135836) Yet the turbulent emotions of grieving these events are still so raw. So here it goes… Any human who voted for that openly known bigoted rapist is to… Read More Keep fighting.
Nora and Owen fight over the Cinderella carriage nonstop. He thinks it’s part of his parade lineup of vehicles and Nora begs to differ. It’s been broken and repaired with superglue twice now. Amazingly, (she says while throwing salt and pulling out an eyelash to wish upon) they rarely hit each other. Items are thrown,… Read More It’s hard to be truly angry when you’re dancing.
Do you often feel as if (whatever screen you are looking at) is screaming back at you, “What do you believe?!” Personally, I believe in love and kindness. That is my simple truth. I hold onto the smell of my children’s hair, the touch of their hand, and the sweet bliss of them sleeping when… Read More What do you believe?
Nora is grinning and bearing her belly. I look up from writing and smile, “Uh-oh, is my hand going to tickle you?” A squeal of laughter and she’s off running after answering, “YES!” Owen joins in and chases after her giggling, “Nawnie-nawnie-na-na, sista’!!” We tickle her tummy and then Nora turns to Owen, “Oo-ie?! Do you… Read More Consent starts with parents.