In new situations, I often flounder. As articulate as I like to think I am, my default mode is awkward mumbling when put in an unfamiliar or stressful scenario. I need a few minutes of back and forth before I relax enough to speak without sounding like a chump. I imagine it is the same for many adults (if not, I’m jealous, because how?)Continue reading“The chatterbox and the chump.”
Once upon a time, I would inhale, pat my tummy and coyly proclaim, “Oh, I need to lose some weight.” I was 23, with the metabolism of a 16-year-old, and not yet grown any babies. My skin was smooth, my complexion warm and sun-kissed, and I knew of eye creams only in passing.Continue reading“Still got it.”
(Photo by Call Me Fred on Unsplash) Now that all the serious discussion is out of the way, I’ll share some ridiculous things the kids have told me during our conversations or in inconvenient situations. Since my son is the brooding, silent type, most of these faux pas feature …
I once got so filmy. Must have been 12 or 13. I found out one of my school acquaintances had a serious crush on the same person as me. I asked her if it was true. She replied with an eye roll and a smirk.
These are strange times we’re living in. My children who are champion bickerers are now united in their zest to drive me up the wall. My days are peppered with “Amma, look at me jump” (underwhelming after the first 10 times) and “how many minutes before iPad time” (annoying after the first 10 times). There’s so much barking (bored puppy) and so many messes to clean up. I don’t have the luxury of working from home and….well, let’s just say that things aren’t pretty.
(I’m a storyteller and I cannot resist the pull of weaving a good tale. I love to regale my audience, make them gasp at all the right moments; the words ebbing and flowing with a life of their own. Soon I disappear, but no one notices, because they’re immersed, lost in that make-believe world. And when the story ends -stunned silence! Disoriented, the audience looks at each other with a smile, the echoes of the final words still ringing in their ears. And I wait back, behind the curtains, pleased to have been in their heads for a few, long moments. This might be a long read, but I promise you. It’s worth your time.)
Dr. Minerva Floofybutte is a joke.
Made an appointment with her office and her examination room is a mess.
Squeaky toys, tennis balls, mismatched chews and shredded cardboard boxes everywhere. I even stepped on what I hope is peanut butter!
He is 9. He is adorable with his Cheshire-Cat smile and that one wonky tooth. He is a blessing every day and I love him so much, my heart hurts from the joy of it all. Some days, I marvel at just how bright he–.
Hang on just a minute. I’m getting ahead of myself.