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 […]
We walked through the grass that’s getting too long again, across our yard and into our neighbor’s yard, cut through their driveway and stood on their shiny brown stoop. Elsie was in only a diaper because she was about to have a bath and get ready for bed when I realized we should visit her preschool (yes, at the next door neighbor’s home) before the morning since it had been a while since we’d been inside. She stepped confidently in, but then when the whole family was squatting down to welcome her and tell her all the wonderful things she’ll be doing, her face crumpled with overwhelm and she put her arms up to me, to be held. Home. She said. Bye. I consoled her and showed her toys. Our neighbor told her she could have pancakes or waffles in the morning. She just stared, her big blue eyes all wet. Home. We […]
{Just Write simply means that I “just write” without hesitation, not stopping to edit. I end up saying what the page says, not on purpose, sometimes clearly, sometimes not. Feel free to join me.} We sat out on the front porch in the seventy degree beautiful Minnesota evening weather and went through the year book from 1993. It was the weekend of our 2oth reunion and we are two friends from fifth grade on, still sitting together when we can, like on the night before our reunion. Her big brown eyes are the same and her naturally curly mane of brown hair. Actually she looks the same, only better. I noticed that about so many people this weekend. Twenty years have gone by and they look better than ever, like they’ve grown into themselves, maybe even found out that they are as great as I always thought they were and then got all […]
August 26th is the first day of school. 13 more days and we’ll be in a totally different stage of life, just like that. Today I was easily annoyed and trying to forgive myself. We moved, we’ve been Together a LOT this summer and it’s been so good, but still. Together. We’ve had a sick week and haven’t been able to do much of anything and I’m ready to knock some walls down, or something. Asher came up to me, looked at me with his Asherness and he asked if I would help him sort the Legos, by color. Really? I asked. All of them? YUP. We need to do that so then we can make a Lego city and be able to find all the pieces! Oh…okay, just let me finish my coffee and then I’ll help you. (My eyes were only half open.) I went to the playroom, still in my […]
Give me air conditioning and a cold drink and the goose bumps start. Miles asked me what they’re for, these goosey bumps, and I can’t think of the answer, even though I know I’ve learned this somewhere along the way. Little tiny bumps all over our skin, raising the little hairs. How strange. My kids so often remind me what’s strange. Life, our bodies, our sayings. Goose bumps. I don’t know, honey. That’s a good question. I can’t remember, I’ll have to look it up. I say this while feeling all drained out. Just tired, but being here with them is where I am and there are many questions like this one and things to do. I want to be nowhere else, but I’m all drained out. It can be over 100 degrees outside and I still get them, by the way. The goose bumps. So I bring a sweatshirt to coffee shops […]
At O’Hare I got confused about where to find a cab. Then I found one with a driver that smiled big and took my bag and we had a very long talk about faith and life. He is openly Muslim and I am openly Christian. We both have our reasons for hiding from our labels. Javid, his name, and he laughed when I told him mine. Heather is apparently (with a little different spelling) a male name where he comes from, almost thirty years ago, Pakistan. He said it means brave and strong and then teased that I don’t look all that physically strong. He explained why it’s good to be near a friend or family member’s grave so every time you drive by, you can pray for them. He said it’s best for the parents to pray because God is more sure to listen. You can’t get away with doing whatever you […]
I was cutting the grass in rows, pushing the mower fast, sweating. I try to stay on task but I always end up going from the side of the house, leaving it unfinished and then to the front, leaving it unfinished, then to the other side….back and forth, making lines and cutting through and going straight and then turning and going another direction. The grass here in Texas is so different from the grass in Minnesota. You don’t want to lie down in it because it’s not soft, it’s more like crunchy and there are vines in it. The blades grow from these vines that press down to the dirt in lines, criss-crossing, like I do when I mow. Sometimes I’ll even go in a circle around a tree and then just keep going in circles for a few turns. Then I look around for straighter rows and go match up with them. […]
He picked out a hip blue hat for his birthday. He asks every half day or so if it’s Tuesday yet because that’s The Day. He’s Six on that day and so excited. Asher is joy walking around and he still loves to hold my hand so much. All day today, we walked from place to place and he would run to catch up and slip that hand in mind, rubbing his thumb back and forth around my palm. I suppose the reason new parents, all parents really, act like we’re the first ones to have ever been a parent ever, and say all the same things as each other, is because these kids really are that great. They are that exhausting and that difficult to raise and they are the only ones. Like Asher, there’s just no other boy that could ever be him and so I’m the only mother. We’re all […]
They come in with a stroller. A small coffee shop and a tiny baby and Dad is behind the stroller and looking so big. Another couple comes in less than five minutes later. They grin at scrunched up newborn faces that sleep ignore them. They grin at each other. He’ll be a week tomorrow. Yeah, we remember those days, the other mom says back, and her baby is all of about four months old. I smile inside because that’s what it’s like, going to so slow like Eeyore especially the minutes at night and then so fast when you see a teeny tiny piglet in a stroller like yours. They are immediately swapping stories of way back then and this very day. What the doctor said about this and that. What was normal for them. They are doing some kind of dance we all do at first. The new parent dance. Swaddling is […]
In the night, rain had finally come. I know for sure because Tia, our dog, is so afraid of thunder and had come to our bed, panting hard like she does when she’s scared. There’s a certain sound to the breaths of fear. In the morning, rain was still dripping from the trees and off the side of the roof, landing in little puddles along the back porch, making that blip blip blip sound. The air was cooler than it has been since we moved here, where people talk about the weather as much as Minnesotans and that’s a lot. I sat at the table and sipped coffee, watched the scaredy cat dog pretend to be super brave while huntin’ for squirrels. Everything is brighter after a rain. Water is magic. Before the storm and bed and the panting next to the bed, I had cried and I couldn’t stop. I don’t remember […]
In the next room there was a consistent beep. The high sound of keeping track. There was a child we couldn’t see, connected to the beeping as it kept track of a little heart. From another room, a baby was crying. Our Asher was on the hospital bed in front of us and he looked puffy and flushed. He has a fever and so much pain in his noggin. We didn’t know if his hydrocephalus is bothering him in the heat, or if his shunt is malfunctioning, or both. We were waiting to see. The doctor checked him over and had a few theories. Then we went in for a catscan, down the hall. Asher was asking me lots of questions while I said, You have to be really still. Why, Mommy? For the pictures. Okay. Then he held his little white lamb blanket close to his chest. He never remembers doing this from […]
There’s too much to say and nothing to say. There’s pain and a heavy heart in watching my parents drive away on Saturday, Nanny and Bapa and Auntie Kay riding away in a white car, and the five of us–our little King family–standing on a new-to-us sidewalk, waving back. There’s not enough time to say any of all that’s changed and happened and there’s all the time in the world. Ryan made dinner last night. Asher said the dinner was burned and he was sitting there not eating it while Miles was trying to convince him that it was awesome. They’re both exhausted. They play and play and play and play with new neighbor friends. They play everything and nothing, as many hours as they can fit inside one day. Like it’s their job. Later in the day, after our family left, we went to Goodwill. On the way in, a woman told […]
Turn the TV down Elsie, Nutella Face stay off the bed! Are you dressed? I asked you to get dressed. Someone get Daddy up yes I’m making you some Elsie no hitting! why are you hitting Asher? (much crying) Miles, the library books must go back find them now why aren’t you dressed? No, don’t open the door! the dog’s feet are wet stop, please. (door opens) Boxes are all around. In two days, the moving truck is coming. We sat down and made a list and tried to guesstimate how long each thing would take and the total was 27 hours and there is work and kids and life. But the windows are washed and most things are packed and now it’s the mind-bending what goes where and last-minute cleaning and you get the idea. I have been so peaceful and preparing, organizing, working hard. I’m waiting for a meltdown because I […]
There are two apple trees in the backyard. They stand watch over the chicken coop. Their blooms are a soft pink, almost white. This year they will grow more fruit than our family can keep up with. We will leave this home before those apples are ready for picking anyway. Someone new will pull them down (or pick them up off the ground, hundreds of them), and I hope she knows how to make pies or crisps or something. The grass is littered with petals, like snow and the chickens peck at them and then drop them back down. Not tasty. We’ll soon say goodbye to our three just-over-one-year old feathered friends. The kids are struggling with this and I am too. We can’t take every part of life with us. We’re talking a lot about the good things, the very most important things, like each other. We’ll be there together. On Sunday […]
It’s not that long of a trip, just a little over a half an hour. All three of them are so tired and the complaints and needs start right away. I’m thirsty, I have to go to the bathroom, Asher interrupted me! I’m turned a little sideways in the front passenger seat and talking over Elsie to the boys in the back. They want to know why their older cousin pinches his nose closed when he sneezes. They keep acting it out for me, to be sure I know what they mean. We start to laugh a lot and I glance at Elsie to see her head bobbing and her eye lids dropping. She tries hard to stay a part of the short road trip levity, but sleep wins and her head is bowed too far forward. I take a change of clothes from the diaper bag and try to squeeze them between […]
We let them stay up late. The neighbor boys were out and it was finally so warm and there was so little wind to blast through and take our fun. The boys all had light sabers and Elsie Jane had bubbles and a truck. That was after she climbed in the minivan (no keys in there, thank God) and blasted the horn by pressing her chest against it. OH HELLO. She got really mad when I took her out, kicking and screaming and walking away like I’d just told her to go to bed. But that tantrum was for later. Now she’s in her bed, calling out over and over Mama, Mama, Mama and there are nights when she only says it a few times. Tonight she’s not giving up because that’s what being over-tired does. The opposite effect. She asks for water and then the next time she has thrown All The […]
When Elsie Jane’s head is on my shoulder and her back has a little curve to it, when her legs are dangling and her hand is patting my back, that’s my favorite. She got sick a few days ago and I held her a lot, her head on my shoulder like that. She’s starting to say a few more words together and lately sometimes she stops to hug me and then she looks me dead in the eyes and says, Mommy. Home. She loves it when I’m home, which is most of the time and still she occasionally just stops what she’s doing to point out that this is how she likes it. Me too. On Saturday, for most of the day, I wasn’t home because we had rehearsal for Listen To Your Mother. Thursday is our show, at the Riverview Theater in Minneapolis, and how did the time fly like that? Like […]
From snowing to seventy-something degrees in a just a few days, we jumped. We’ve been soaking up sun like the pale and vitamin D depleted Minnesotans that we are. The sliding glass door bangs every few seconds, in and out and in and out. There’s dirt sticking to my bare feet from the muddy shoes. I don’t even care this time, this winter was just too long to begrudge a little dried spring mud. We are going through all of our things and really considering each item, Do we need this? Are we taking this to Austin? Will we get there and open a box and say “Why in the world did I pack this? Now I have to find a place for it and we never use it.” I’m a tosser, he’s a keeper. Our new garage is about a quarter of the size it would need to be to fit all […]
I always ask for spinach and black olives and pickles and lettuce and spicy mustard. If I get the spinach, I’ll feel healthy. Doesn’t it make everythign healthy? Jared, the sub sandwich guy who lost all that weight, would be proud. On the way to the airport, alone, I sat again with Ira Glass and This American Life. The two hour trip goes by quickly with Ira in the passenger seat. So to speak. Spinach leaf stems keep popping out the side of my mouth with the bites and I suddenly am fully aware that there’s someone at the table next to mine and he feels too close. Too close for eating comfort. We are basically eating together but so separate, waiting for planes. This trip was planned starting yesterday morning, and here I am, alone in an airport but not alone because of the strangers. But still alone. This isn’t the easy […]
We entertained them in the car with stories from our lives before they came. They asked questions about the most exciting parts. Daddy, do you think the eyes in the dark by your tent were a bear or a cougar? Mommy, when you got lost in Canada, where were you supposed to be? Why did you move to Michigan and then move back one week later? We laughed and laughed, dramatizing parts of our true stories for effect, their eyes wide. Back home, we shushed them and rushed them to bed. Miles came to the kitchen for “one more” drink of water and looked at me with big blue eyes over the top of his small glass. He took a big breath after a big gulp and sighed out, Mommy? Yes, Stall-y Stallerton? Has anything bad ever happened to you? He says this softly and I feel my heart in my throat… Yes, I […]
Blue grass, he says, comes from our time. These new guys are using it now, you know? Old time bluegrass is playing over the speakers at the coffee house. I’m waiting to hang out with the cast of Listen To Your Mother Twin Cities, in a corner by the window so I can see our theater across the street. His beard is stark white. His long gray hair puffs out from under his hat. See? Listen to that, he says to his friend. It’s so good. He’s right, it’s really good. The other man nods and takes a sip of his coffee, looking over the top of a crossword puzzle. These new blue grass bands now, you know how they’re trying to do blue grass? They can’t. They’re too young. You can’t do blue grass well when you don’t know anything yet. They don’t know anything yet! Some of the cast started to […]
Let’s go together into spring, shaking the dust from our eyes and ears, spitting it out. It comes from too many damning thoughts, floats around and brings us to sitting, face in the dirt of our own piling. No, you are not lazy, unless you think you are. No, you are not going to be alone forever, unless you think you are. No, you are not going to go unheard. You are not going to stay right here. You are shaking it off and out and today is a day for moving. Out of your head or your very self or even your city. There are things to not ignore, getting trumped by your repetitive thinkings that demean you and rattle around and whisper hurtful and damaging things. The things to not ignore are heart-gut nudges that you choose to ignore because no no no, not that. That sounds hard. That […]
It was a long day with so much sugar in it. Jelly beans, pastel ones, everywhere and chocolate eggs and Peeps. The boys landed flat on their backs on the couches when the company started to leave, head and stomach aches totally taking over. Elsie zipped around, bouncing off the walls, with her cheeks full of stolen jelly beans like a little chipmunk. At bedtime it was a crash and burn situation. There were several requests for more water, more hugs, more stories, more time. The sugar needed to finish doing them in. The two youngest fell silent first, which is almost always the case. Miles has these big blue eyes that stare into the dark longer, with all kinds of activity behind them, his mind zinging and zapping. His synapses are more active than all three of my sugar-over-dosed kids combined. He went to the bathroom, again. He came to get me […]
We pulled things down from the shelves in the storage room downstairs, holding them out to Grandma, What’s this? Do you want this? Goodwill? Do you want to give it to someone in the family? She answered over and over and then went upstairs for a while, to sit down and watch basketball. Her name hit the top of the list of all who are waiting to live in apartments at a lovely place in a city nearby. Two of her sisters live there now. My Grandma, she is too well to go to assisted living and ready to not have the whole house to herself anymore. It’s time to move away from the house. We found a box of things Grandpa used to have at the lumber yard, back when it was his, years ago. The guys would come and hang out there. I remember sorting nails in little containers all in […]
more blankets of snow another blanket back on the bed for the coldest St Patrick’s Day in twenty years. Today, a blizzard closes schools and we’ll wait on plows to clear the way. There’s so much to do and the blankets of snow and the harsh winds are back. This feels cruel, like a mean joke. Like I can’t take it anymore. I’ll clear the driveway, not my mind. We’ll trudge through thick drifts to check on the chickens. Is the water frozen, yes, of course, again. No little warming box under the water is going to save it now. No blankets are keeping us warm. This is bone chilling and exhausting. Someone is coming for a second showing of our house. Please buy it. I have two pairs of socks on and I have writing to do. Due. Am I whining? Probably. Elsie is walking around the house saying Bapa and […]
These sesame rice crackers taste different today. Yesterday I thought they were the best thing I’d ever tasted. Today they just kind of taste weird. Same crackers. I chew ice, the kind that’s all blasted apart by an in-the-freezer ice maker. I don’t know how it makes ice and then you can push a button and it makes loud noises to give you bite-sized pieces, but I love it. Chewing ice is a sign of anemia, did you know that? I mean, if you chew it addictively, like me. I’m anemic. Again. You’d think I would just keep taking the iron supplements all the time forever and ever amen, but I don’t. I stop. Then I want to go back in time to be more responsible about my diet and taking iron so I don’t have a hemoglobin count thingy of 9. But I can’t go back in time, obviously. That happens in […]
She had been up and down all night, sick and burning up. We spent the day tied together with a sling that she still fits tucked in. Either that, or rocking in a chair, her head on my shoulder, mouth open with heavy sleep. When we’d walk around the house, her on my hip in the sling and her head still on my chest, her arms dangled limp like they were lifeless. She needed me a lot. I cleaned up her sickness, from the floor or her crib or her clothes, over and over. I held a towel in front of her to catch her sick over and over and softly repeated, it’s going to be okay, it’ll be okay. And then my heart would follow that whisper with its own prayer for it to be okay. Her fever was 103 and she wasn’t keeping anything down, and it was going on four days. […]
We were talking numbers with a realtor. The discussion back and forth between Ryan and this 26 years veteran of real estate left me dazed, staring off toward our piano, wondering if we’ll take it along when we move. They worked out the numbers. The only thing my brain would do in regard to numbers was try to plan how many plastic storage bins I want to buy this week because they’re on sale. I was imagining putting all the things in them that we don’t use every day, to pare down and clean off and give the house the appearance of tidy and minimal and open and big. After our realtor left with promises of putting the house on the market on March 1, I took the bins we already have and headed downstairs to go through our storage space. I organized the kids’ clothing and re-organized the boxes and bins already […]
He’s humming a Christmas song and sometimes breaking out, off tune, with the words to the song instead of that low hum. I have no idea how a Christmas song came to mind, other than the fact that it’s winter in Minnesota. He’s banging around the kitchen; I hear the pots and pans and cabinet doors slamming. He called out and asked if I wanted eggs. Yes, of course. Our chickens make the best eggs. We got home late yesterday afternoon from Austin, Texas. We saw friends and drove around to many neighborhoods. We spent time downtown and on S Congress where we had great Mexican food and strolled through boutiques and shops. We got the kids some Zots at the big candy store. Do you remember Zots? Hard candy that starts fizzing from its insides when you bite it. The boys hopped around squealing and saying how sour it was when […]
A whisper, Asher! Get back up there! I tip-toe over to their doorway and look up at the top bunk. Asher opens one eye and quickly closes it again. Caught. Asher, don’t peek over the edge. Leave your brother alone so you don’t get in trouble. I half whisper half hiss this and then take a deep breath, trying not to get angry over bedtime stalling. There are much bigger things to need big breaths over, if I can only remember that. I sit down again and listen to the dog snore for a minute, waiting for any more stalling or messing around from the boys’ room. Elsie starts to call out. Mama, Mama, Mama… I hear one pacifier hit the wood floor and I wait to hear the other. Nothing. Quiet. Except for the snores from the dog, who has plopped herself down in the middle of the living room on Ryan’s […]
