Always Real

Moving On

If you have been reading this blog for very long, then you already know that my pregnancy was, hands down, the most joyful season in my entire life. I loved being pregnant. When I was pregnant with Sean, I was deliriously (and obnoxiously) joyful. I had a Cover Girl complexion (thanks to the can of sardines and three avocados I ate every day), my hair was full and lustrous and bouncy (probably from the steady diet of Filet-O-Fish). I was never more creative or funny or witty (too bad I didn’t have a blog then) and…

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Always Real, School, Sometimes Tart

I’m Thinking Of Taking Up Tennis Again

Back in September, on the first day of school, Sean bounced right into the classroom and started playing with the train set. He didn’t look back or take notice when I left the room, so I left feeling smugly satisfied with how well it went. I flashed “poor you” glances at the mothers whom I passed in the hall on my way out, sobbing mothers pulling unwilling children down the hall like stubborn mules, mother’s whose children aren’t as secure and well adjusted as mine. Tsk. And that was the last time I took Sean to…

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Always Real, Antique Crazy, Mildly Amusing

The Freezer

The freezer is the place where you store food for two years before you throw it away. The End. No, not quite the end. After you chunk six cubic feet of unrecognizable two-year-old frozen gray matter into the trash, you haul it out to the curb for your most favorite of civil servants, the trash collectors — the saintly men who take away the diapers. And then the next morning, when you go out to get the newspaper, you find a ham bone on your driveway, the same ham bone that two years ago, you were…

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Always Real, Mildly Amusing, School, Sometimes Tart

I’m Crying On The Inside

Today was Sean’s first day of school. As I walked him down the hall to his classroom, I passed some of my neighbors who had just dropped off their children. They were sniffling and dabbing at their eyes, overcome with separation anxiety. I felt like a rotten mother because I was not crying. I was having a hard time suppressing the happy dance. Although he protested the entire way to school, as soon as we got to his room he made a bee line for the Brio train set and immediately forgot that he had a…

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Always Real, Mildly Amusing, Sometimes Tart

Some Assembly (And Tequila) Required

We are officially in the dead of summer here in Texas. My flip flops have melted into the pavement like bubble gum. What the mole hasn’t destroyed of my lawn, the sun has burnt beyond recognition. I can barely stand the sight of my shorts and tank tops that I couldn’t wait to wear back in April. I have soured on summer. I am ready to break up with summer. If summer were my boyfriend, I would beat him to death with my electric bill. The thrill of summer is gone folks. Because it has been…

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Always Real, Sometimes Tart

The Broccoli Police

I am so bummed. I just figured out that motherhood is mostly about trying to get people to eat stuff they don’t want to eat. It hit me the other day when: – I overheard myself saying, “No dessert for you dude until you eat some of those vegetables.” (This from someone who ate Raspberry Zingers out of a vending machine for breakfast all through her 20s.) – I noticed broccoli and bran were where the Cheetos should have been in my shopping cart. – I found myself reading package labels for fiber content. – I…

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Always Real

Things I Learned From Balloons

1) If someone knocks you down, bounce right back and be perky. It’s annoying. 2) It only takes one little prick to take the wind out of your sails. 3) Sometimes the greatest joy is in the releasing and letting go. 4) Some go out with a bang. Others linger long and lifeless. But nothing lasts forever. 5) Sometimes all it takes to cheer someone up is just to hang around. 6) It’s probably best to stay away from power lines. The bandwagon is officially open. Feel free to jump on.

Always Real, Makes Me Sigh

As You Are Now

“As you are now, I once was. As I am no, so shall you be.” Old Chinese Proverb * * * When I was a young girl, maybe 12 or 13, I visited a nursing home as part of a youth group. I remember studying the face of the woman who lived in the suffocatingly tiny room we were standing in — made even more so by the cluster of pubescent kids awkwardly standing around not knowing what to do, where to look or what to say. Wrinkled with time, weathered with worry, spotted with age. …

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Always Real, Sometimes Tart

Reasons I Make The Super Nanny Cry #7

In Sunday school class this morning, the gal sitting next to me asked how Sean liked pre-school. I said he hates it, but I make him go because it’s good for him and it’s good for me to have some time away from each other twice a week. She told me that what she did to ease her daughter’s transition to pre-school was to put a picture of herself in her daughter’s lunch box with a little love note. Just my luck to sit next to the Super Nanny. “Wow. You’re a way better better mom…

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Always Real

Scarred, For Life

Featured In The 2007 July Issue of Good Housekeeping!  You may keep your Mederma — I like my scars. I don’t try to hide them because they tell the story of who I am. My many scars are evidence that I have not spent my life on the sidelines and that I am an “experiential learner”- which is a polite way of saying that I have to learn things the hard way. My scars remind me that God built me with the will to persist and overcome and heal and be the better for it. They remind me…

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