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Browsing Tag: mother

This is Not a Story You’ll Tell at Parties

I’ve realized recently that I don’t write about my mom very often, and when I do, it’s always sort of about her as a part of something else–my dad’s life, or my children’s. I’m not proud of this–mom is an integral part of my life, after all, and of our life as a family. Why don’t I discuss her? Why don’t I talk about her? I mean, we’ve gotten pretty tight, especially in these past ten years, and our relationship is–outside of a bumpy decade or so I’ll just call adolescence–for the most part, easy. So maybe that’s it: maybe the easy is why she hasn’t appeared on these pages so often. See, Mom is my constant. She’s as much a part of the framework of my life that to write about her sometimes feels like writing about what it’s like to breathe, or eat yogurt for breakfast, or put in a load of laundry for Clean Sheets Day. Mom is my constant: she…

Sick Day

He ‘s been fighting a cold for over a week now, along with both sisters, on and off. It’s gotten to the point where I can’t tell where one child’s infection ends and another’s allergies begin. I took both him and Quinlan to the pediatrician this morning, certain they had sinus infections. Both were declared healthy and well, so one child got dropped off at school just in time for recess, and the other and I stopped by a local cafe on the way home. The sick boy requested carrot cake at 11 o’clock in the morning, and carrot cake he got. He’s beside me at home now, under a blanket, playing with a toy stethoscope while I catch up with writing work on my laptop. I finished most of that carrot cake, of course. He didn’t want more than the tiniest of bites. Turns out he just wanted an excuse to sit down at a table for a while and hang out with me. I didn’t mind at all…

Well, I Did Not See That One Coming

You guys, this post was going to be epic. It was going to be about the inherent feminism found in young children, about their keen, unclouded observations of the societal biases of the world in which they’re growing. It was going to be about GIRL POWER, and Rosie the Riveter-type gumption, and I-am-woman-hear-me-roaaaaar. I may have been overreaching just a little. In one way, at least. The kids have recently watched the first two (well, fourth and fifth, you know) Star Wars movies. Cian (yes, he’s too young to watch them, and yes, we made his sisters wait until they were older, but he’s the third kid and tends to go with the family flow. Which means he might be driving a car by 12) loves them. He’s obsessed with the “miyen-yun fack-on” and pretends to be Luke Skywalker and walks around singing the movie’s theme song. Saoirse could take Star Wars or leave it–she just likes the corresponding Legos–but Quinlan, too, is all about it. AT-AT walkers are like “cute puppies” (until…