January 2010
11 posts
Guilt, guilt, guilt
“Do you brush your teeth regularly?” asked the dentist, swinging her light around in preparation for my daughter’s semiannual cleaning. “Do you brush them every morning and every night before bed?”
My daughter smiled and nodded slowly. I knew that smile. It was the same frozen smile I paste on my face when I don’t want to lie, but don’t want to tell...
Are You There God? It's Me, Cici
The child came off the school bus yesterday in tears. “Mommy. Something bad happened today. I need to tell you about it.” A thousand awful somethings flitted across my brain. I held my tongue and, instead of cross-examining her, busied myself zipping up her coat. I took a deep, calming breath. “OK, honey. What happened?” She opened her mouth and all that came out were...
Extra, Extra... Read All About It!
So many tabloid newspaper headline possibilities here:
When Kitchen Cabinets Attack!
My Kitchen Cabinet Gave Birth To A Fully Clothed 6-Year-Old!
Editorial: Dear God, She’s 6? Just How Big Are Those Feet Anyway?
Pantry Items Stored Too Long — Grow Legs! … And A Skirt! Fruit Basket Cringes In Horror!
Swimming 2: The Hero José
The child came bouncing off the bus as always. She went over to her friend’s house (down the street) to play for an hour. When she got home, we sat down to do her homework. “Sweetie… you were having some awful nightmares last night. Do you remember what they were about?” She looked at me blankly. “You were kicking and seemed awfully upset. I wanted to make sure...
Swimming
I have happy memories of swimming. I remember over-chlorinated swimming lessons at the local YMCA and long hot summer days at the outdoor pool in the park. I was never one to sit and cook in the sun. I was a swimmer. I never swam competitively because that just seemed to take all of the fun out of it. I preferred to splash around with friends and imagine stories as I gazed through bloodshot...
Little teapots, big ears
We are in the car, driving home after my husband got his upgraded iPhone. The child is in the back seat banging a little pink plastic hairbrush and mirror and singing two words over and over again: “Pink oval, pink oval, pink oval….”
My husband is sitting next to me, tapping passwords into his phone. “I had to agree to another 18-month contract with ATT. You might...
