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Category: Learning Curve

I’m Still Mad About the Cadbury Eggs, Though

The evidence was everywhere, carnage of a sugar rush gone mad, access to all the vices in life consumed at once. It was like Eve not only biting into the apple, but running around Eden with it on the sly, scattering bits and pieces, leaving teeth marks in all the good apples somebody else could have eaten (AHEM), tucking the fruit into hiding spaces so she could go back and get some more, later, when Adam and God weren’t looking. Except this was no Eve. This was Cian, after Easter. And Cian, unlike his sisters, could give Eve a run for her money. The foil started appearing everywhere, starting the day after Easter Sunday. Little crumpled bits of pink in the couch. A flattened wedge of pastel blue on the playroom table. There was a half-eaten milk chocolate egg, wrapper still partly intact, on the floor behind a chair leg. I noticed a smear of something dark on a couch, swabbed at it with a wet cloth, wondered which child had forgotten to wash her hands after playing outside. Then, I noticed the teeth marks in a chocolate bunny, then another. The smudge of brown on Cian…

Even Though ‘Starting Small’ and ‘Brain Reprogramming’ Aren’t Exactly Synonymous

If I make just one resolution this new year, I think it’s going to be something like: Make Intentional Use of Time. And also maybe Write Shorter Blog Posts. But one thing at a time. That’s it. It’s all I need: intentional use of time. I’m not talking about adhering to a super-strict schedule. In six years of parenthood I’ve learned that if there’s anything I can count on, it’s going to be that I can’t count on anything, “schedule”-wise. Someone’s bound to wake up with a nightmare the night I’ve decided to set the alarm for five. Some’s probably going to get sick and barf all over herself at the breakfast table on what’s supposed to be the busiest day of the week. Someone else might, oh, I don’t know, partially dislocate his elbow on New Year’s Day and necessitate an eight p.m. trip to the local urgent care center (looking at you, Cian). It’s just…life right now. It is what it…

All the Days of Your Life

My little brother got married this weekend, far away from his hometown of Carlisle, Pennsylvania, in the Madison, Wisconsin suburb of Middleton. The bride had hair like Rapunzel and a dress with a skirt that went on for miles. The groom, who wore his tux like, “yeah, I always wear these things,” ripped off his suspenders as soon as the ceremony was over because apparently, yech, suspenders. It was the best Catholic wedding I’ve ever been to–not too long!–funny, and touching, and personalized to the couple like none I’ve witnessed (the Gospel reading talked a lot about wine. So, there you go). I cried so much one of my fake eyelashes came partially unglued and started poking me in the eyelid. Nobody tripped. Or popped out of their dress/pants/etc. It was a success, as weddings go. And there’s something sticking with me. The happy couple is on their honeymoon right now, road tripping through the American midwest. They’ve known each other for a decade, have traveled together as friends, so I’m hoping this transition to husband-and-wifehood will be an easy…