1). WHAT DOOR OF THE CAR THEY GET IN. And, the thing is, there’s not even a preferred door. It’s not like they both want to get in the rear driver’s side door OR the rear passenger side door. That would be too easy. No. My kids fight over the door that the first one begins to MORE »
These are my last few days of having an 8-year-old daughter and I will miss her. Missing people is usually reserved for those who have moved away or died, but I tend also to miss the past manifestations of the people I love. I miss my baby girl. I miss the toddler. I especially miss MORE »
(This post is parenthetical because it’s kind of an aside, you know, on the down low, because, I think, not sure, but it’s possible, signs point to “yes”, that my son might maybe perhaps possibly, though by no means certainly, have a girlfriend. This is of course a touchy area in terms of parent blogging. MORE »
This morning my daughter was a dog. She walked around my apartment on all fours. She barked, she growled, and she wagged her tail. She panted with joy when I tickled her belly. She took great delight in being scratched behind the ears. And when she was a good girl, I tossed her a treat MORE »
I’m going to do a list post because they’re easy and I’m dying and I have a quota. I just wanted you to know the whole truth right from the start. Okay, I’m probably not dying, but I have the flu and I feel like I’m dying. I also look like I’m dying (see left). I have MORE »
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I stand there every day, waiting for the yellow bus to rumble down the street and stop with a hiss and the smell of diesel. Kid. Kid. Some vague kid. Kid. Kid. Another any old kid. Kid. Kid. Kid. And then BAM – my daughter appears and my irises and pupils, like lightning, power through MORE »
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My son continues to mix water, sand, and cement powder. Making mortar. He sets up scaffolding. Sits busy with his trowel, spreading mortar on bricks, making walls.
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After she hops off the bus, before she mentions the dead boy, my daughter says “I got moved to the front of the bus, daddy, but don’t worry. I’m not in trouble.” This is how my daughter usually begins a story about being in trouble. But today is different. Everything is different. “I’m in charge MORE »
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So another year ends, never to return again, as we all rush headlong toward our deaths. It’s creepy, isn’t is? You ain’t getting any younger. Did you suck all the marrow out of 2012? If not, you can always live vicariously through your kids. They tend to make the most of things. If you don’t MORE »
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So Christmas happened. Things were purchased, wrapped, given, unwrapped, received. Absurd — yes — but no more absurd than living and dying so I’m not banging on Christmas. We do all kinds of crazy things. Like fishing. Fishing confuses me to no end. And Twitter. What is that? Anyway, Christmas happened. It happened for my MORE »
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