-
Starting from Scratch
It’s a new year and I’m looking at an empty back yard. The latest issue of Organic Gardening came in the mail and even if I wanted to start planning the spring gardens, I’m completely overwhelmed by the clean slate. Do we go with raised beds or in-ground gardens? Fence? Square or organic boundaries? At the back of the lot or next to the house? Of my 4 raised boxes, only one remains intact. The fire ants shredded the others,…
-
Starting from Scratch
It’s a new year and I’m looking at an empty back yard. The latest issue of Organic Gardening came in the mail and even if I wanted to start planning the spring gardens, I’m completely overwhelmed by the clean slate. Do we go with raised beds or in-ground gardens? Fence? Square or organic boundaries? At the back of the lot or next to the house? Of my 4 raised boxes, only one remains intact. The fire ants shredded the others,…
-
It’s About Expectations: Response to “Happiness in Parenting”
This morning, Sue Robinson over at “Motherhood & Me” posted an article in which she discusses her lack of happiness in parenting and lays out the difference between loving her children and loving the act of parenting. I’ll admit I had to look up the definition of happiness because happiness isn’t something I think about often. I’ve always placed happiness and enjoyment on the backburner to satisfaction and joy – or taking pride in hard work and results, which I…
-
Bag it.
This morning as I was getting my son ready for Mom’s Morning Out, I pulled out some fresh pull-ups and he promptly told me, “No, I want to wear these” – these being his Lightning McQueen and Mater underpants. This was a pretty big moment because ever since the baby was born, Scooby has resisted underwear showing a strong preference for the pull-ups, even preferring them over being naked. I thought all little boys preferred to run around naked, but…
-
Mutt Amongst Purebreds – Female Insecurity
At Mom’s Morning Out drop-off, I am a mutt amongst purebreds. Each morning I pull into a parking space and herd the toddler to the sidewalk while I unload the baby and then clumsily make my way to the door eying all the other moms chatting in their tennis skirts or their designer jeans and blouses. I feel their eyes on me, and I think a million thoughts of how they must perceive me looking like I walked straight out…
-
Forgotten
Did you know, that after you said goodbye, I quit sleeping? On the hot summer nights in my bunk I thought of you. I tried to talk to the God who claimed you for himself, but it hurt so deep that my words just came out as silent tears drowning in the nightly chorus of screaming crickets and cicadas. I watched as she changed. We rarely spoke of you, but you were there. In each circular conversation as her mind…
