Parenting Gone Awry, Reruns and Leftovers

Corn – The Great Mystery Of The Universe

Corn is one of the most indestructible elements on the face of the earth. At one time it was on Mohs Scale of Hardness, but was later replaced by Conundrum. Or something like that. Which is a good thing because had it stayed on the list, your birthstone might be corn. It’s true. I would not make up something as serious as that just to amuse myself. Anyway, you don’t need Moh to tell you about the properties of corn. You’ve eaten corn. You know that it can pass through the length and breadth of your…

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Antique Daddy, Use Your Words

What I Said

What I said:  Done with the milk? What I meant:  Would you pleeeez not leave the milk out? What I wanted to say:  Stop leaving the damn milk out. What I said:  I need to go to the store (sigh). What I meant:  I have to defrost or chop something for dinner and I don’t feel like it. What I wanted to say:  I’m not really hungry. Y’all are on your own for dinner. What I said:  Are these papers important? What I meant:  These papers have been on my kitchen counter for a week and you…

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Mildly Amusing, Parenting Gone Awry, Use Your Words

Antique Carnivore

Sean has never been much of an eater, but when he was around 18-months old eating stopped almost entirely.  Somedays we are lucky to get five calories in him.  We try not to worry about it because watching us nervously wring our hands at the dinner table has not increased his appetite.  Wise people say when he’s hungry he will eat.  Wise people are wrong. In an effort to encourage eating, we tell Sean that if he hopes to grow up to be big, he’s going to need to eat something — specifically something not made of orange dust or coco/fruity/frosty/gummy/happy…

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Antique Childhood

The Prize

On the news last night, there was a story of a woman who won a house. A house! A lot of people say, “I never win anything.” I am one of those people who say that. I never win anything. Except a pumpkin. One time I won a pumpkin. The year was 1969. It was Friday, October 31st. Halloween. I was a skinny scrawny fourth grader at St. Cabrini Catholic grade school. The entire month of October, the teacher had a big fat pumpkin sitting on her desk. Just before the bell rang, she decided to…

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Antique Childhood, Faith, Mildly Amusing

It Made Sense At The Time

Whenever I’ve talked about how that at St. Cabrini, where I attended Catholic grade school, our 4th grade class saved up to buy a pagan baby, I’ve gotten one of two responses.  People who did not attend Catholic school in the 1960s will look at me in stunned silence as though I were from Mars.  People who did attend Catholic school will nod their head knowingly and sigh at the utter absurdity of the notion. How does a fourth grader go about buying a pagan baby you might wonder?  Well, we brought our scavenged pennies and nickels…

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Joy, Photography & Photoshop


Photo Temporarily Unavailable Ah, but a man’s reach should exceed his grasp, Or what’s a heaven for? ~ Robert Browning


Sandbox Theology

From a distance, I watched two little boys hunched over in the sandbox. One sported a mop of platinum curls and wore an orange Kool-Aid mustache. In typical little boy fashion, he skidded and careened a plastic truck through the sand, crashing into the other toys in a spectacular display of vehicular manslaughter. The other little boy, taller and thinner, sat off to the side and quietly observed. After a minute, Curly got bored with the truck and set off on another search and destroy mission. Slim watched Curly saunter off. After he was sure he…

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Sometimes Sweet

Of Bears And Boys

One rainy afternoon last week, Sean and I were snuggled on the sofa together watching a show about bears on Animal Planet.  A young bear scaled a tree with enthusiasm if not grace. “Now why is that widdle bear not with his mommy?” he asked with concern. “Well, he is probably big enough to be by himself,” I assured him.  “He probably doesn’t need his mommy to look after him anymore.” He took a few seconds to consider this and then said in a low and worried voice, “I don’t ever want to be that big.”…

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Always Real, Antique Crazy, Mildly Amusing

Only Because Stacy London And The Local News Would Not Approve

I have two or three boxes of maternity clothes in my closet that I can’t bear to part with or pass along. Part of it is that my pregnancy was the most joyful time in my life and I want to hang on to that. The other part is that I had some darn cute maternity tops and dresses that I didn’t get to wear nearly enough. The pants? Not so much. Good riddance. There is no such thing as cute maternity pants. So the other day when I was in my closet the boxes called…

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