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Category: Reality Check

Considering That I’m Still Finding Sand Everywhere, Yes

So much has happened this summer, and at the same time…so much hasn’t happened. I had a list a mile long of everything I wanted to to do with the kids the past 10 weeks or so: trips to the lake. Hiking the Appalachian Trail. I vowed that we’d spend so many days at the pool the kids would actually become bored with it. And then, as it usually does, summer happened. We did, though, we did, go to the pool. No hikes, though. And no lake trips, even though we have three within forty-five minutes of us. Can’t explain that one. But we went to the beach and touched dolphins and we rode on an airplane. The kids drew and played and drew some more and hardly ever, ever, watched an electronic device. They stayed up late and slept in and rode roller coasters and saw sharks and ate raw oysters and ran in the rain. They played in sand and jumped waves and ate funnel cake still hot from the fryer. They decided that they want to live in Florida, but only if they can stay close to Winter…

Heck No, There Aren’t Any Pictures With This One

I caught Cian’s barf in my bare hands Friday. I think I’ve turned a corner, motherhood-wise. He was sitting beside me on the couch as I worked on my (other) website. Laptop in my lap, sleepy baby on my shoulder. My brother called, and as we talked, Cian fell asleep against me (his first nap in months, but that’s another story), hot and sweaty with a broken fever after a very long night of (computer-less) cuddle time.  My brother and I hung up. And then Cian woke up. And then Cian leaned back against a “pih-row”, started crying, sat back up, and threw up his lunch. Which I caught (go, mama!) in my hands WHILE managing to keep my laptop from crashing to the floor. It’s the small things. I had a friend, a very close friend–one I would’ve told you three years ago was one of my best–move away a couple of years ago and drop contact, for reasons I still haven’t been able to pin down. We’re still Facebook friends, but that’s the…

Just One of Many (Just One More Time)

Note: I don’t normally repost essays I’ve previously written, but I’ve been thinking about this one a bit lately–or, actually, this topic. See, April holds the anniversary of the days on which both David’s and my father died. And right now, there’s a lot of bad talk in the news–people being hated, the people who are hateful being hated themselves, all that usual stuff that swirls around our world on a daily, weekly basis. And I just find myself withdrawing from it all: I will say that these past couple of weeks I’ve actually liked those cat memes that keep popping up on Facebook more than my friends’ actual status updates. It hurts me to admit that. I’m not someone who wears my faith on my sleeve, partially because I don’t feel like being lumped into any sort of stereotype (I know. How very Peter of me), and mainly because faith is something I stumble through every day, picking my way through the fields (sometimes meadows, sometimes gravel) of belief like a stranger trying to find her way in…