Thank you… Read More Thank you for being a friend…
When a child is first learning to speak, conversations are not all that unlike speaking to your pet or yourself like you’ve gone mad. In fact, I’ve been on the receiving end of “bitch has gone crazy” looks from many a stranger over these past six years. (But in truth they started back longer than… Read More I love you too.
This is the closest I’ll ever be to you. I remember laying on my side, rubbing my planetary belly, looking out the window into the night sky, speaking to Nora in my womb. It was the closest she would ever be to me physically yet, even then, separate and unfathomable. Her own heart pattering away,… Read More Grasping at water.
He strips all clothes off except for his shirt the moment he’s home. He builds cars, trains, and “towahs” with his Legos. He tries to snap his fingers and calls for Simone by clucking his tongue and calling her “Monie”. The crazy thing is she responds and comes to him. He feeds himself. He goes… Read More 21 months
Nora: “Dada, your eyes taste like pineapple.” Jamie: “…Thanks.” Nora: “Mama, you want a story?” “Sure, honey.” “Oh, wait, is Owen asleep? Because this is scary! There’s a dragon, a deer, and they’re walking for a LONG time…” (Damn, that is scary.) Nora: “Uh-oh, I think Owen pooped. He smells like soup.” (Note to self,… Read More Nora-isms of October
He says, “Bye-bye!” He waves as he leaves for the few hours away with a sitter. He’s smiling, Nora is cheering him on, “C’mon, Owen, let’s go!” She’s decked out in the outfit she chose, put on herself after getting herself ready in the bathroom where she asked for “privacy”, she has toothpaste on her… Read More 20 months
“Mama? The moon is coming up too early!” Bedtime is evil. Remember, you can’t spell “police” without saying “pie”. Nora: “Mama, I need the “pie” piece!” Me: “Which (Lego) piece is that?” Nora: “The one with the letters that say “pie”.” Me: (Holding up one saying “POLICE”) “Nora, do you mean this one?” Nora: “Yeah!”… Read More Nora-isms of September
An acquaintance once said to me, “It’s so good to see you haven’t lost yourself in being a mom.” (Before you ask, yes, she’s not a parent and, no, I didn’t claw her eyes out.) I merely smiled, momentarily bit my tongue, and calmly replied, “I’m still me and I’m also a mom.” She tried… Read More They’re my reason
Her hair. I remember sitting below her, holding my hands in a bowl to catch her hair as it fell in chunks from the scissors my father wielded unseen from behind her, and watching the small bits light from the sun as they disappeared onto the floor. I’d never seen anyone with her hair color… Read More My first memory