The call of Thin Mints can be heard in front of every super market, pharmacy and local coffee spot. When I signed Miss O up to be a Girl Scout Daisy I knew cookie sales was part of the deal, but I had no idea how big of a deal it would be.
Did I forget how to be happy?
That’s similar to what my friend Norbert explored in his poignant essay on his discovery of his own depression for the The Good Men Project. I revisit that piece often. It’s become a benchmark of sorts for me: have I too become numb to what’s going on around me?
I think maybe I have. Continue reading
My baby is finishing kindergarten and I’m a mess. Everyone tells you that time with children goes fast, but I didn’t realize just how fast until it already zipped past me waving goodbye. I was prepared for the first day of school tears, but the last day of school tears came out of nowhere. They’ve actually been coming off and on for a week now, but seriously, between the insane pollen count and decompressing from the end of graduate school, who can tell?
I realize it’s been an absolute age since I sent my thoughts out to the internets, but I’ve been kind of busy with life and grad school. There will be so much more on that in another post. Today is about me geeking out and flying my woman flag so incredibly high. Thanks to Nerdist, I have been blessed with the trailer for the Wonder Woman movie that should have existed so many years ago. Today my inner woman-child grew 10 times larger and danced like she’s never danced before. Continue reading
“Why I haven’t met your Daddy, Mommy?”
I’m still not clear on what triggered that completely reasonable question from my almost 4-year –old. I’ve had to answer it before, but this time there was more behind it. Lately I’ve noticed Miss O becoming increasingly observant and I can see how this is going to be a problem for a lot of people. I know I was woefully unprepared to have this discussion even though I’ve been dreading it since I found out I was pregnant. I knew it would come someday, but I don’t think I was truly prepared for the weight of it or how soon it arrived.
“It’s just your dad saying ‘hello.’”
There’s a silly papier-mâché star that sits on the top shelf of the baker’s rack in our kitchen at Christmastime. It refuses to stand on it’s own two points and jumps to freedom at every opportunity when I try to anchor it with hidden tape. It’s been bugging the ever-loving heck out of me for a week but I love that silly star so I tolerate it.
Hubs took it’s latest attempt at freedom to make a beautiful connection for me. Instead it made me burst into tears asking in my most wavering and blubbery voice, “Why would you say that to me?!”