From the category archives:

Because I said so. (Parenting)

Thank you, Mama

July 3, 2009 · 18 comments

I love my mom. She is solid, beautiful, there. She loves me like a rock, protects me and cares for me—whether she’s three blocks over, in a different country, or simply a blog away. Read her post. That’s the lady who taught me to write, who taught me to be kind, who taught me it’s [...]

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Ai ai ai!

July 3, 2009 · 57 comments

All this over a naked bum or two! Let’s get a few things straight: 1) I do not shove my daughter’s face into my ass cheeks and command her to sing. They did that at Guantanamo Bay. I choose waterboarding when my children misbehave, as most sane parents do. 2) I did not choose the [...]

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Um? This one time? At band camp? I wrote this thing? And the people of Boston want to call the DSS?

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Maestra Mama

June 25, 2009 · 30 comments

“Why does there have to be money anyway?”

“I asked my father the same thing when I was eight,” I tell her. “He told me something about raccoons and monkeys and pineapples becoming too burdensome. I still don’t understand.”

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Despite reports to the contrary, chivalry and gallantry were not dead—not until you threw them under a bus last week and proceeded to hump their remains in the middle of a busy street.

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Sophie: I’ve read every one of my chapter books. Me: Oh, I don’t know about that. Sophie: (eye roll, disgusted sigh) CONSIDER MY LIFE CYCLE. Read, read, read, sleep. Read, read, read, eat, read, read, sleep. Read, school, read, eat, sleep, read, read, read. Me: Your LIFE CYCLE. Can I write that down? Sophie: (eye [...]

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Oh yes she di-id

May 6, 2009 · 9 comments

Last night: S: Oh no you DIH-INT. H: OH YES I DIH-ID. S: Oh no you DIH-INT. H: OH YES I DIH-ID. S: No you dih-int ’cause I SAW-AW you. H: OH YES I DIH-ID ‘CAUSE YOU DIH-INT SAW ME! S: I know you cah-ant. H: OH YES I CAH-AN. S: [turns to me, quizzical [...]

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Self-seeker

April 26, 2009 · 20 comments

Dogged dog-furred raggedy mother
of two seeking self that spring-cleans
despite limited means, a self with
sudden wealth and no hair in the
drain, a self that can listen to the
train at night and not take flight.
Self, come soon.

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We talk about how their bodies will change, how they are likely to have adult bodies that resemble mine in many ways. I shake my booty. They shake theirs. It is absurd. We are absurd. We are lovely.

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He was as unbalanced as a McDonald’s Happy Meal toy.

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