Monday, March 29, 2010

Sometimes My Life is a Movie

This morning on the way to school I think we were all a little tired.
I was thinking of all the stuff I have to do this week,
and regretting shoving my slipper-socked feet into the toes of
Twin Girl's silver princess ballet flats on the way out the door.

In the back of my mind I was thinking as we turned onto Main,
that usually at this point in the drive on a Monday
I am giving a little positive pep talk to everybody,
so that the week starts out right.

But this morning my toes were crunched into those shoes
and my mind was on the busy week ahead, and I felt no inspiration,
no words of encouragement came to me.

Just then, and I promise I am not making this up,
Twin Boy started singing "Don't Stop Believin'",
really softly until he didn't know the words anymore.

Then there was a pause and somebody else started in on the verse,
and everybody gradually joined in, with hushed, sleepy voices,
one picking up the words of the verses where somebody else left off,
until we were all joined together on the chorus:

Don't stop, believin,
Hold on to the feelin!

I dropped them off as the song dwindled out.

Okay, that will do.


Wednesday, March 17, 2010


"Depending on the taste, I may or may not ask you to buy these tortillas again."

The Teenager just said this to me while fixing his bean burrito in the kitchen.
I tried a new brand of tortilla and he was suspiciously hopeful.

The Teenager doesn't talk very much, and most certainly not about food.
If he comments about food at all, it is to say that he hates it,
or he just gives a thumbs up while chewing.

These are the things he will eat:

Ramen Noodles (chicken flavor)
Macaroni and Cheese from a box
Bean Burritos
and Toast

Anyway, from the kitchen he just yelled the above comment and my ears perked up.

"They're really big!" he called out.

Then he said, taking his burrito to the table to eat it,

"It's been an honor working with this tortilla.
It is a fine tortilla.
But it really all comes down to taste."

A connoisseur of fine foods in my midst.


Wednesday, March 10, 2010


photo courtesy of Kelle Hampton Photography

My cousin is a star.
No, she really is.
She wrote an amazing birth story (here)
and her blog became almost instantly famous around the world.

Although the story is compelling and gut-wrenching and honest and beautiful,
I think people are coming back to the blog
because they have read further into it,
and found that she is just about the most honest girl they've met in a long time.

She kinda lives life starry-eyed.
Expecting the best.
And she takes everything that happens,
and she looks at it from all angles,
until she sees it's best side.
And then she chooses that.

Kelle has always just wanted to live life to the fullest,
whatever it brings her,
and her words inspire the people around her to stop racing through life
and instead,
to remember to celebrate the moments that they have here, now.

I realize, when I read her words, that I really do have what she has - Love.
And it makes me think that I can live it better.
Live my love better.

Love you Kelle.
Can't wait to see you on CNN this Tuesday.
Just smile if you can't think of what to say.
The whole world will smile back.


Tuesday, March 02, 2010

Needed: Brain

One day earlier this year, when I stumbled late out of bed,
I realized that they were all ready for school.

They had eaten and brushed and tied things without me.
I was no longer needed!

So I began to sleep in until the blissful hour of 7:30am.
I have grown quite wonderfully lazy.

But this morning, when I jammed my feet into boots
and staggered out the front door at 7:35,
fumbling for my keys and blinking my way down the driveway
in the early morning darkness,
slowing my car to match the speed of my pre-coffee brain,

I arrived at the high school, the first drop-off point,
where I was supposed to let two of them out of the car.

And only one got out.

I checked the back seat and scowled.

There were two imps grinning at me and pointing at the empty spot
where number 3 should have been.

They live for this stuff.


Monday, March 01, 2010


Some things need to be let go, eventually.

Sometimes you know it's leading that way because things get all out of kilter,
and there is wrestling, and letting go, and taking back up again.

And pieces of the puzzle that have fit before
don't fit anymore.
They can't be jammed back into their spaces.
No matter how hard you jam.

I know that as my children grow up,
all of the skirmishes, the discipline, the laughter, the coddling,
leads to this moment of letting go.

And I see it in my oldest, I can see it happening.

He is seventeen years old and wanting to be free,
but not ready yet,
squirming in his ill-fitting childhood clothes,
wrestling with his status,
clinging to infancy in some ways,
doffing it so completely in others.

"Me do it!"
he would say, at age 2.

And I would step back
and let him do it,
so clumsily and independently
and beautifully.

Like I am now.