I am that mom who had my kids out the door early. Summer camps and travel experiences led straight to college and beyond. Even if they circled back home they were clear across the country in no time at all. My mom never held me back from life either. Regardless of my questionable decision making, she let the cards fall as they would. When I needed to circle back, she made sure I did not shy away from life for long. All that is to say that I don’t often have them, my children, together in one frame, but last week they stood together for a moment, on a grassy hill, with the latest addition to the clan kicking a soccer ball, ocean pounding along on the horizon and the cobalt blue taking up the vast sky overhead, and I smiled.
Tag Archives: family life
Good News Movement
Here we are folks, surrounded by increased fear and corporate greed and fresh lies and more scary diseases. Just about every sound bite or headline is enough to send even the most even-keeled among us into a full-on never to recover panic attack. But, and this is a major but, there is plenty of good news sparking up every neighborhood cul-de-sac and throughout your day to day which is worth focusing on, if we only dare to let it, don’t you think? Like, just reflect back, even today, you probably had several wonderful encounters with actual humans worth celebrating, right? Tonight I’ll share a few pleasantries from my week rather than fixate on the latest lunacy being reported by our brave and brilliant reporters. What do you say? You with me? Ready to join a movement of good news?
Runaway
After hearing about Trump’s latest fuck-up today I felt like running away. How can one stand for such ignorance? Such foolhardiness? Such lack of foresight? There are no sensible responses to these rhetorical questions, except to stay vigilant, and keep shouting them. #resist his #ignorance. My history with running away runs deep… and days like today don’t make it easy.
There was a stretch in my younger years when I actively ran away, like a few times a week, or maybe it was only once. Let’s face it, memory, at least mine, is porous and malleable. But for now, let’s say that running away was something I did with regularity. I’d pack a few items, like pj’s and my toothbrush, and walk around the block to our back-fence neighbor’s house. I have no idea why that household seemed like a respite, for they too had plenty of children scampering about with two parents faded in the background, but it was there I always went.
Nine Cent Girl 