Just Write {179}

March 17, 2015

We walked down the street to get the mail, no coats on. The sun shined and smiled on us all weekend and we soaked in the vitamin D, the fresh air, the soft breeze, every moment. We did nothing, which is everything, isn’t it? It is so hard to pout or fuss when the sun is smiling on you. Especially when you have lived many dark months, so much cold isolation. Elsie ate an apple as we walked, her mud boots clomping, her teeth chomping. She looked up and smiled, turned around to look at her brothers and neighbor friends playing. She said, “We’re getting furder and furder….” (further and further) Yes, we are, I said. Yes, we are. We just keep going, and we get there. The mailbox held nothing much to be desired, as per usual. But Elsie thought it was the best trip down the street ever anyway. Our house sits [...]

Share on FacebookShare on TwitterPin it on PinterestShare via emailSubmit to StumbleUpon
read me →

Just Write {178}

March 10, 2015

She tells me she wants to have two tomorrows, one for what I am saying we need to do the next day, and one for what she would rather do the next day. She is three, and easily believes she has a right to demand a double day. Of course, I can’t grant this wish, it’s like telling her I can paint an extra moon in tonight’s sky. Her first days on Earth are vivid in my cluttered unfocused brain because they were so awful. Thankfully, I also remember them well because I fell in love with her, which I realize is not the immediate experience of every mother. Sometimes falling in love takes time. Someone should tell us that. My Elsie Jane did not arrive after 40 weeks on my insides, she came a little early. In grand Elsie style, she kicked the nurse on her way out, causing said seasoned OB [...]

Share on FacebookShare on TwitterPin it on PinterestShare via emailSubmit to StumbleUpon
read me →

Just Write {177}

March 3, 2015

I made them pick up all the Legos, again. They thought it would be way too hard, again, and threw UGHHHH at me. One asked me why I always make that terrible threat, that I will sell them. (The Legos, not the children.) I don’t know, I said. I guess I just figure that if you can’t clean them up, I don’t want them here. But you’re right, threats are kind of lame. From downstairs I could hear the clanking of the plastic, the distinct Lego sound. The boys found a system, of scooping with a plastic bin’s lid, like a dustpan. Then one of them appeared next to the couch, hopping up and down and asking for food. His brother was right behind him, asking to play the XBox. Their little sister abruptly stopped playing to ask to watch a movie, if her brothers were playing XBox. I looked at all three [...]

Share on FacebookShare on TwitterPin it on PinterestShare via emailSubmit to StumbleUpon
read me →

Just Write {176}

February 24, 2015

I went around town putting up flyers for a Story Show that I’ll be hosting with my friend Riley. We’re planning on having people read stories around the theme “Home” on the Saturday of Easter weekend, from the stage of the New London Little Theater. This is something to look forward to, something creative, something like food for my word-y heart. I’m grateful. Everywhere I went with flyers, I had to ask for tape, to hang the flyer. This is how I roll, hanging things up, with no roll of tape. And every place I went, I was met with the familiar faces that make up Home, and tape was handed over counters and flyers were hung from boards and windows and doors. It was a cold cold walk, waking me up, and I thought about how it is always best for me to have as little time as possible alone with my [...]

Share on FacebookShare on TwitterPin it on PinterestShare via emailSubmit to StumbleUpon
read me →