A Holiday Memory, aka Mom-Comment #7. This one goes out to all the moms and daughters, and all the relationships both sweet and twisted, sincere and sarcastic.
In the family room, 8pm, Mom is holding a cup of water. I am holding a holiday beverage. Not my first.
Mom: Are you trying to kill this ficus tree?
Me: Nah, I told it that you would be here soon, to save it.
Tree Jesus.
You're welcome.
Friday, December 28, 2012
Tuesday, December 25, 2012
Merry Everything!
Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays, and may your days be warm and... quiet.
Yeah. Ssshhh...
It's so quiet here! :)
A slice of this moment:
Where are the rest of the matchbox cars? Let's go get them.
Phoenix, I don't want to play with you right now, but can I play with your cars?
Who has gas?! Ewww!! Get away from me! It's not me, it's not me, it's him! I know. Let's go over here & play. Him: (very offended) Noooo! I have clean underwear!
Rick: What else is going back? Here's this, tape it up, it's ready. (Daddy, gathering up anything that didn't work out quite right.)
Me: (sleepily) Mmm, that chai makes me want a nap... Phoenix! You're jumping on me & elbowing me! Why??
Love and peace, friends. Peace and love.
Friday, December 14, 2012
sacred
It’s too much sadness
a punch in the chest
babies don’t get taken
before all the rest.
Society has havens
in thee we must
you can’t break the rules
can’t breach the trust
where was your higher calling
your humanity’s in arrears
you dare to touch the babies,
leave us with our tears
Our hearts they now flounder
and wash up all cold
Eyes they well up
and tongues they scold
Little ones and guardians belong in a bubble
evil and ilk aren’t one with the muddle
You take your ugly and take your hate
walk it out down another way
you wound us, remind us of how very much faith
it takes to wave goodbye
and believe it all waits
for the learning and schooling, the hours they’re away
the honor we place in time spent afar
Don’t mess with our babies
they said in loud voice
Don’t mess with our babies
we’ll leave you no choice
Nostrils flaring, chins tilted high
energy rising, we don’t go to die
You leave our sweet babies
go off your own way
We’ll take your crazy and turn the tide
to the ultimate
level.
10.14.12
tragedy in CT
Wednesday, December 12, 2012
Don't Wait
kiss your babies
hold them close
grab your fellow nose to nose
this life it's furious and rolling straight along
this life its brutal and wonderful all in one
we can't wait can't wait for one day to come
can't wait can't wait to say the words we know
tell them love them
crack your heart open and show them
there's never enough time
hand to hand and heart to heart
never enough time
never.
enough.
time.
together
With love, and a broken heart, for a dear friend's family loss. Not mine, no, mine I will bundle in my arms tonight. And thank God we have more time.
hold them close
grab your fellow nose to nose
this life it's furious and rolling straight along
this life its brutal and wonderful all in one
we can't wait can't wait for one day to come
can't wait can't wait to say the words we know
tell them love them
crack your heart open and show them
there's never enough time
hand to hand and heart to heart
never enough time
never.
enough.
time.
together
With love, and a broken heart, for a dear friend's family loss. Not mine, no, mine I will bundle in my arms tonight. And thank God we have more time.
Monday, December 3, 2012
These Days
These days, ya'll, these days! I think I'm becoming a cliche. After all my efforts to the contrary, I just might be That Mom. You know her, you smile at her, you feel slightly relieved that she exists - because it means you've got your stuff together better than at least *one* person.
I mean, when did it happen? There I was, going along, brushing everyone's hair, buying new jeans to replace holey ones, keeping my van detailed & trash-free... and the next thing you know, here comes Mama. Here comes Mama with her hobo-children all snarly-headed with Goodwill-looking shoes and high-water jeans, tumbling out of a dusty van along with a spilled bag of library books & empty sundae cups. But she's got her earrings on, does Mama. No matter what, she has those ears dressed.
What is with that?! I mean, the brood can show up like a scraggle pack, but I will not leave the house without earrings. Must be my new major priority. Sometimes you cannot fight the Good Fight of Well-Coiffed Offspring, so you put on dangly earrings & lipgloss. And hope to fight another day.
Words to live by, I know, I know.
Please to enjoy my very own kitchen band. They drum, sing, dance & strum. All using large kitchen spoons with magical powers - microphone! Drum stick! Violin bow! Ukelele pick!
Wicker makes a very nice drumming surface - very whispery, sshhh, don't tell.
I mean, when did it happen? There I was, going along, brushing everyone's hair, buying new jeans to replace holey ones, keeping my van detailed & trash-free... and the next thing you know, here comes Mama. Here comes Mama with her hobo-children all snarly-headed with Goodwill-looking shoes and high-water jeans, tumbling out of a dusty van along with a spilled bag of library books & empty sundae cups. But she's got her earrings on, does Mama. No matter what, she has those ears dressed.
What is with that?! I mean, the brood can show up like a scraggle pack, but I will not leave the house without earrings. Must be my new major priority. Sometimes you cannot fight the Good Fight of Well-Coiffed Offspring, so you put on dangly earrings & lipgloss. And hope to fight another day.
Words to live by, I know, I know.
Please to enjoy my very own kitchen band. They drum, sing, dance & strum. All using large kitchen spoons with magical powers - microphone! Drum stick! Violin bow! Ukelele pick!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)