Updated on October 26, 2016
“A zombie with blood dripping out of my eyeballs! Will that work? Can I be that? Or what about the guy with the chainsaw?” this boy goes on and on with his lists of possible costumes as we wander the aisles of the costume store. And I have no words. What is the deal with all things death?
“No blood, gore or death, that’s the rule!” I remind him as I add ‘get a pumpkin’ to my list of things to do.
“But, mom! Then what am I going to be!?!!” he questions loudly. “Why are you always so against all things Halloween?”
What? Good ol’ Halloween. We meet again. Read More
Updated on October 14, 2016
Fall has arrived in the South, y’all! And I am so thankful for the crisp air that whistles through the open windows in my office and helps with the usual pervading smell of all things boy. I have peaceful visions of quietly getting some work done while the boys frolic gently in the yard. Ummm… yeah, sure. The sounds from the backyard neighborhood football game make their way through my open windows and I remember that this is real life. With boys. Read More
Posted on October 3, 2016
“Hey, Mom! You know it’s been almost 20 years since you went to school here, right?!” my oldest bellows his discovery across the breadth of the rambling porch at my college sorority house. There is a young sister perched in one of the old rocking chairs, her books and phone scattered about on the painted cracks of the floor. She smiles over at us, and I feel as though I should be using a cane to navigate the steps. Wasn’t that just me, there on that porch? Read More
Updated on September 21, 2016
This time of year in the South we are all waiting. Waiting with visions of crisp cool breezes, rustling leaves, apples, campfires and all things pumpkin dancing behind our eyelids. Waiting for the heat, which excited us with its possibilities back in March, to finally make its exit. And we’re not sure it is ever going to happen. Because, y’all, it’s 94 degrees here with 87% humidity; you could fry an egg on the pavement in our cul de sac (don’t tell my boys that — they will try it).
So we wait … Read More
Posted on September 8, 2016
It’s looking a lot like this around here this morning. There’s not a clean knife to be found and the boys nearly had to share the same cup at breakfast. And yes, we do have dishwasher — this magical machine that takes our grimy greasy dishes and makes them bright and shiny again. Yeah, we have one of those. Read More
Updated on August 26, 2016
That clock. All. Day. Long. He watches over my shoulder, tick-tocking his way into every fragmented thought. He determines what gets done and what gets piled in the corner. He decides if I eat lunch or simply down another cup of coffee and call it good. He declares with every beat of his tiny second hand if we are on time or late; if the deadline will be met or missed; if the day will slip quietly down with the sun or pull at the hem of the darkness with its demands. He gets my eyes more often than anything else throughout the day. That clock. Read More
Updated on August 18, 2016
This week it is Snapchat. Please, mom, please can I get it on my phone? Everyone has it. Please mom. This teenager of mine is nothing if not persistent. And he knows I have no good answer. He senses the wavering of my uncertainty.
Why are there always so many decisions to make as a parent? Read More
Updated on August 11, 2016
We’ve been in school two weeks here in the southern suburbs. Two weeks, people! And the whining has already begun. We’ve already lost a notebook, cried over a book report and had a melt-down over the fact that we have to memorize all of the prepositions that exist in the whole world???? Read More
Posted on August 1, 2016
They are heading back, Lord, our little (or not so little anymore) people. Back to hallways, desks, math, writing assignments, lockers and playgrounds. They are lacing up their brand new sneakers, strapping on their heavy backpacks and walking right out creaky old doors into their new years. And I make the peanut butter sandwiches, fill the water bottles and suggest that maybe we should comb some hair, but Lord it feels all out of my control now. Read More