September 2013

Just Write {104}

September 30, 2013

I was getting out of the car, grabbing my bag and another bag, my coffee mug, and I dropped my glasses on the driveway. I bent down to get them and saw a snail in the grass. The squishy looking sluggish body was carrying a big shell. Just like that. It amazed me. My glasses were scratched, but I just needed to crouch down like that for a little while and watch the creature. I got out my phone and took a picture but it was like he was camera-shy and got inside his swirly shell before I snapped the photo. I went in the house, put down all the things and put the picture on Instagram. Everything needs cleaning, so I looked around at where to start. I had been at school volunteering and now it was already late morning, so much to do, a meeting this afternoon and on and on, […]

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Babushka

September 26, 2013

All those years ago it felt like a punch, a cheekbone punch coupled with a knife to the heart. Dramatic, yes? It wasn’t their fault, it was a stupid game in which a difficult (or ridiculous) question was asked and everyone answered confidentially and all the questions were about each other. It was like being online before the Internet. Anonymous. If life is a highway, which one of you got off on the wrong exist? Ballots were cast, opened and read, unanimous. Heather. Heather. Heather. Heather…. I knew it was coming. Then we all cried. Awkward, No no no Heather, I don’t think it means anything horrible. It’s okay. Oh I’m sorry! I don’t even know why I picked you! I love you. It was the truth and the truth hurts and it extra hurts when you are sitting in a situation where you realize that the people who know you best agree […]

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Just Write {103}

September 23, 2013

After all of this drought, we were caught in a deluge. Running out into it was like standing under a bucket, dumping it over yourself, drenching. We took shelter every time we could, bus stops, full trees, building awnings, but it was so much. So much water. Our feet would slap slap slap the ground, counting out a rhythm out of tune with the rain drops whoosh, all at once. Over and over. We ran from the sidewalk to a path through the Texas state capitol’s grounds. Our clothes and hair were soaked all the way through, puddles in my shoes. I had been hanging with a bunch of do-gooding out of towners and they were all like, Drought. Yeah, right. I know, it doesn’t seem like it right now, but it’s true. We ducked back inside to hear more speakers and we stood at the back, because, soaked. I thought about the […]

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when the dog bites, when the bee stings… then I get really maaaad. oh wait, but that’s not the point. I just wanted to share a few things I love, so get that song out of your head. Instead, try this song, Swing Low, Sweet Chariot by Brady Toops (along with two of his friends with beautiful voices). FYI: Brady Toops is 1/3 of sibling triplets and his parents were my teachers when I was a kid and he was a toddler five seconds ago and now look at him. Congrats, Brady! I love your music! ::::: We recently acquired a Kindle Fire, and yes, I love it. We quickly realized it needed protection from small people and just then I was offered a Snugg case and so I said, SURE SEND IT TO ME. It’s living up to the hype and no wonder these things are popular. Sturdy and not ugly. What else does a girl […]

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Just Write {102}

September 16, 2013

The dryer stopped making heat a couple of days ago, while my sister and aunt are here for a visit. I set it aside, in my head, on the Later shelf. Now I’m sitting in a laundromat, green and white checkered floor, for men in a row on the bench behind me, waiting. They have no phones or computers to look at and when it’s time, they get up in unison, pull the laundry baskets on wheels to the dryers and empty dryers, move to tables, fold in unison. They don’t talk much. A lady with short hair like mine sits up on a folding table, criss-cross applesauce, reading something on her iPhone while baby sleeps in a stroller to the whir of washing and drying. I check my email, look up and think, make stories in my head and wonder if Auntie Kay and Sister Shelly are bored while waiting for me. […]

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At four days old, my good friend’s baby boy pushed away from me though in my arms, the first time I held him. With an arched back, he turned his head to the sound of his mother’s voice. His little mouth opened, bird-like, seeking her out. I said, Look! Look at him turning to you. He knows that voice. He knows what he needs. Mama. She beamed and the sound of her laugh was the last straw for him. He wailed for her as if he hadn’t eaten ever before, wanting his mother. We go on needing like that, always. We come to this world and whether we’re nurtured well in our youngest years or not, we’re needy and full of empty spaces and we stretch and turn, trying to get filled up. Then suddenly, almost as in a flash, we become teenagers, and there’s no more insecure and scary time of self-discovery […]

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Just Write {101}

September 9, 2013

He is explaining the behavior system in his class. Did I tell you how it works? You start on green and you want to go up. If you go down, you could get in the orange and that’s not good. But if you go up, that’s good. It’s your clips. Clicks? You go up and down clicks? No. CliPPPS. Oh okay, gotcha. I’m sitting on the edge of his bad and he starts to rub my arm, absent-mindedly. He’s wearing two shirts, even thought I told him he’ll be hot. Oh well. He’s all wrapped up in a hooded blanket too, it’s so soft. The hood has horns on it and eyes that end up on his forehead. It’s a monster hooded blanket. His favorite. He bites at his fingernail and tells me about his friend who has trouble not moving down into orange which means he could end up one more down […]

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7:18. (OMG HOW did that happen? Oh no no no….) I sit up fast and get dizzy, stand up, walk slanted to the bathroom. (Okay, I’ll call to the boys to get dressed while I get Elsie out of the crib and I’ll just bring her to preschool in her pajamas and apologize and I have to make coffee. This is Monday. I think.) Bathroom. No details needed. You’re welcome. (That was a weird dream. Why would I be dreaming about a grandmother sinking into a mud pit? She was one strong woman though, the way she pulled herself out of there. It’s too bad I was missing part of that Mumford and Sons concert to watch her…wow, I was really close to Mumford, and the sons, that was so cool. BIG BEARDS….dreams are ridiculous. But I must REALLY want to see M & S in concert…of course I do…) Rushing downstairs, apologize […]

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This coming Tuesday night, September 10 at 8pm central, you can watch me read a post out loud, in front of you, LIVE through Google. Uh huh, that’s right. That’s because I’m joining Listen To Your Mother and The Partnership at Drugfree.org and 10 other writers who will also be reading their work! Here they are, hold on to your hats! Janelle Hanchett – http://www.renegademothering.com  Brandi Jeter – http://mamaknowsitall.com Sherri Kuhn – http://oldtweener.com  Heather King – http://www.extraordinary-ordinary.net Lyz Lenz – http://www.lyzlenz.com/ Judy Miller – http://judymmiller.com  Lisa Page Rosenberg – http://www.smacksy.com Alexandra Rosas – http://www.gooddayregularpeople.com Ellie Schoenberger – http://www.onecraftymother.com Zakary Watson – http://www.raisingcolorado.com Melisa Wells – http://suburbanscrawl.com   That’s nice, Heather. HOW do I do that? Through Google? I don’t get it…. Good question! RSVP (optional for Google + users) or View live: http://www.youtube.com/user/LTYMShow/live That’s the LTYM YouTube channel and a live feed will be happening right there. (For my technoligically challenged family and friends, you could just come back to this post at the time […]

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forgive yourself

September 4, 2013

“Take the long view, I reminded myself, looking out across the fields to our own long view. Life finds its balance. Children grow up. Second chances come along. In the meantime, I could choose to savor this moment.” – Katrina Kenison Can you forgive yourself for not living in the moment? When our babies are sparkling new and swaddled up we set out with intentions we can believe in, but we just don’t know. We are going to live in the moment. We’re going to relish these baby years, these elementary years, for we have been told time and again how precious it all is, and how fleeting. And intrinsically, we know it to be true. But, what we don’t know is that we are about to be swept up inside days and nights that bleed into one. And that our minds will fill with a sleep-deprived dense fog of anxiety and joy […]

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Just Write {100}

September 3, 2013

This is (WOW) the 100th installment of Just Write. Please join me in free-writing your (extra)ordinary stories, your memories, your moments. I would love it if you would…. Here’s to 100. *clink clink* ::::: These were the best fajitas I’ve had in…well, maybe ever. The kids jumped in the trampoline outside, yelling and screaming and bumping into each other on purpose and sweating a lot. Ryan stayed home with an under the weather Elsie who needed bed. Miles rode his scooter, ahead of us and Asher walked with me, behind. He held my hand. He still loves to hold my hand. More and more I want to hold these days and these moments in my hand and keep them for as long as possible because they feel more and more slippery. And then there are other times, in these young years when the whining and waking up over and over and the diapers […]

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