motherhood
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Don’t turn away. Stay soft.
I just watched a reel of a mother rocking and singing to her deceased child. Her hysteria was heartbreakingly calm, like shattered clay settling to the bottom of the sea. In the last two seconds of the reel, she buried her face in the shroud, still singing so very softly, and I find myself hoping… Continue reading
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Drops in a Bucket
There are not enough tears to cry for all of them but I will cry for them on my lunch break and my bus ride home and the hour before I fall asleep the rest of the day requires a straight face and full command of my vocal chords but I will allow my heart… Continue reading
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A Love Letter for the Children
Leave space for dreaming, my beloveds, I’m sorry that most of your memories of me are of rushing, talking about the big and cruel world preparing you for the big and scary future concepts and contexts flooding, obeying, legislating, blowing up you, puzzle pieces in a chaotic big picture that takes too much effort to… Continue reading
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90 Minutes
Between 5 and 9 I amfrying cracking scrambling seasoning pouring kneading rolling baking sandwich-bagging lunchboxing plating pouring scooping brewing sweetening waking waking waking reminding negotiating yelling soothing feeding bathing dressing toothbrushing hairbrushing time-checking weather-checking synchronizing bus-chasing street-crossing Between 10:30 and 8 I amscheduling calling texting phone-answering greeting teaching reporting asking listening executive functioning anxiety-managing people-managing… Continue reading
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I really want to care about the KPIs
because my employer paid for me toattend this convention where they talkabout “best practices to turbo-charge yourcustomer service and maximize your revenue”while sipping pretentious coffee servedby waitstaff who get paid $8.40 an hour.So I could rub elbows with people who areso great at the game that being aroundthem made me feel small, so smallI couldn’t… Continue reading
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Every unsolicited advice is criticism. Read that again.
From the perch of her privilegeshe tells me to prioritize better.She tells me who I should listen to.She rummages through the emotionsI’ve confessed and tells me which onesare valid and which ones are lying.But with respect, I didn’t askwhat you would do if you were me.She thinks she’s coming from lovebut I’m coming from her… Continue reading
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My preschooler has strep and I’m entering numbers on a spreadsheet.
Imagine calling off work when your kids are sick and still being able to pay your bills.I imagine sick kids would be able to get enough rest, as many days as they need.I imagine they would heal faster.I imagine they would grow up accustomed to having their needs centered.I imagine there would be way fewer… Continue reading
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Rituals
My older son asks why his brother needs for him to wave before walking through the Big Kids Door no matter how hard they’d fought at breakfast, why there has to be a high-five, a fist-bump, and a half-bump, in that order, one hug at the bottom step and two at the top every day,… Continue reading
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Ten Thousand Martyred Children
are on my mind along with bus schedules I am the lady crying on the CTA challenging my seething heart to not turn away from the images of hospitals under siege, white sheets enshrouding somebody’s beloved, gaping wounds and howling, sky-tearing grief while listening to street names rationing my breaking heart into the handful of… Continue reading
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Little Child, Big Feelings
My child is little but he has very big feelings disappointments big as clouds confusion by the truckloads frustrations towering like the bears at the zoo and fear, sometimes enough fear to flood a river and spoil the boats’ lunches I am constantly searching for this small child in the crowdeddowntown parade of his emotionsto… Continue reading
Rampant & Golden 