From the category archives:
I have learned not to look at the article when I come and go, fetching my corset and petticoat and Victorian trekking costume. Just a piece of paper on the wall, I tell myself. It belongs to the theatre now, not to me.
[read more...]
{ Comments on this entry are closed }
Hattie Belle has just finished her first day of first grade. She is not accepting direct questioning about her first day of school, not at this time. However, I manage to wrench a tiny bit of information from her: she says she was being funny.
“How?” I ask. “Funny how?”
“Oh, you know,” she says. “Just…I don’t really know.”
“Yes, you do. Come on. Funny how?”
“Just…ohhhh, like—” She flings out her arms and widens eyes in mock surprise. “‘SAAAAMAAAAAAAANTHAAAAA! Oh my GOSSSSSHHHHH! WHERE have you BEEEEEEEEEN?’” she yell-drawls.
“That is funny,” I agree.
“Yeah, you know. Just funny.”
[read more]
{ Comments on this entry are closed }
H: What? I like eating all the killed.
Me: WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT???
{ Comments on this entry are closed }
We get to think of life as an inexhaustible well. Yet everything happens only a certain number of times, and a very small number, really. How many more times will you remember a certain afternoon of your childhood, some afternoon that’s so deeply a part of your being that you can’t even conceive of your [...]
{ Comments on this entry are closed }
Cheap restaurant. Me: I’ll have the Crispy Chicken Salad. H: (to waitress) Yeah, our MOM has to try something new, because I’M trying something new. That’s our DEAL. Me: That’s right. Can I get that with oil and vinegar? H: Usually Mommy ALWAYS gets that other salad, the BUFFALO one? But then she always goes [...]
{ Comments on this entry are closed }
S: Did you lick the slime off me when I was born? Me: (squints) Wait, seriously? S: Yes. Me: No. Seriously. S: Goats do.
{ Comments on this entry are closed }
I want to write something of it down for safekeeping—something I can give to you, something to help you remember your courage when it’s slipped your mind in the future. Courage has a way of slipping after a few setbacks, a few hard knocks. No one’s fault. It’s just a difficult life, sometimes. I would tell you I wish I could protect you from life’s difficulties, you and your sister both, but in truth, I would be doing you no favors. You’ve already experienced more than your share of life’s bumps and losses so far, and in spite of this (and, I think, because of it), you are becoming yourself in beautiful fashion.
{ Comments on this entry are closed }
I ask Hattie Belle what I should write about today.
“Your loving daughters,” she says, without hesitation.
I swoon. I say, “You mean write about how much you guys love me?”
“NO,” she says. “About how much you love US.”
“Oh,” I say. “But you said ‘loving daughters.’ That means, uh, YOU, loving ME.”
“Oh. Okay,” she says, kind of bored. Love is BOORRRRRING.
{ Comments on this entry are closed }
Soph is free-verse rapping to her sister in the bathroom: “You need a freak flag! You need to use it! You need to show it! Wherever you go it! YOU NEED A FREAK FLAG! You got it in your body! Hey, don’t be a hottie! Bring it out! Use your brain! YOU NEED A FREAK [...]
{ Comments on this entry are closed }
My dearest Hattie Belle, These are difficult times for you and me. I know it’s hard to be six. I wish you knew how hard it is to be 39, with two daughters you love more than you love yourself. But you: You tell me that you are never getting married, and that you are [...]
{ Comments on this entry are closed }