In The Meantime
I thought I had them completely figured out but they were developing and becoming the next version of themselves in the meantime of me looking away for just a moment.… Read More In The Meantime
I thought I had them completely figured out but they were developing and becoming the next version of themselves in the meantime of me looking away for just a moment.… Read More In The Meantime
There are moments in motherhood that I find so poignant that I feel compelled to write them down. They leave me in a state of awe. Like a suspended, present membrance.… Read More Magical Reverence
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.
Owen was two. He was speaking seventeen words. He told his dad he loved him. I barely could get him to say “mama”. Home with him every hour of the day and he tells his father, “I love you.” I was Barbara’s jealous resentment. He rarely kissed. If he did it was without using his… Read More Fork you and your words.
“Have fun at school today.” “OK, mama, have fun with yourself.” “OK, honey – WHAT?!” That was two years ago that I had that exchange with Nora. From early on her literal interpretations of common phrases and sayings has had me in fits, elicited serious misgivings, and inspired epiphanies about the English language. It’s hard… Read More Have fun with yourself!
Nora said, “I want a baby doll that looks like Owen so he knows I love him and I can hold him.” I hugged her and bit back tears, “You are so kind…he knows you love him. Someday he’ll say it to you too but, trust me, he knows that you love him. He loves… Read More The doll will show him.
Owen: “Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!” Nora: “Owen, please stop.” Owen: (silence) Nora: “Oh my, (reverent gasp) it worked.” Owen: “…………………AAAAAAAAAH!” Jamie has been out of town on a business trip. The kids were up at 3am every day asking for him. Good to know you’re missed, right? Except that Owen thinks I’m hiding him in the basement and… Read More Nora-isms of November
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
Our drunk looking Gilligan got a clean bill of health for his 18 month wellness check. 75th percentile for weight and heigth, 98% for foot length and head circumference. (I could have told you that. Or at least my uterus could have.) My baby is a Shake Weight. You would think that it would improve… Read More Baby Shake Weight
June 2nd, 2015 We’re playing a losing game of family bingo. The object of the game is that everyone sleeps through the night without crying, soaking the bed, or causing themselves trauma or injury. Our kids really suck at this game. I’m waiting at the finish line to hug them but I’m so sleep deprived… Read More This cow goes meow.
You must be logged in to post a comment.