I was working on one of my favorite TV shows when a fellow extra started chatting with me.
I was intrigued by her accent, and asked her where she was from.
When she said Russia, I wowed her with my Russian. By which I mean, “We conversed in Russian until I exhausted my skills 30 seconds later.”
I told her I’d studied Russian for two terms in college.
My face was turned toward the extra, but my eyes were on the nearby lead actress. Read more…
My baby son has slept in my room since he was born.
At first he did so in a tiny wicker bassinet.
Then, when he outgrew that, he did so in a mini-crib.
My husband and I didn’t want him gulping down wood splinters, so we moved him to a proper crib. I grieved as we made the move. Where had (most the) year had gone? What would I do without his sweet snores lulling me back to sleep?
Then something magical happened: Read more…
My eleven-month-old son really likes sharing, in three- and four-second bursts.
So when he caught me peeking in yesterday to see if he’d fallen asleep, he naturally chose to share what he had been waving around moments before. He stretched his arm out toward me.
I couldn’t quite see what he was offering, so I broke one of our household’s few rules of naptime: I moved in for a closer look.
I found a sliver of wood.
It took me less than a second to figure out the sliver’s origin.
I crouched down and saw several more slivers on the floor beneath his crib.
When I rose, I found my little beaver at work again. Read more…
My five-year-old son, Li’l D, complained of a stomachache when he awakened the Wednesday before last.
He was fine soon after, but awakened with the same complaint on Thursday. This time, he threw up, leading him to join his dad at work instead of going to school.
“Morning nausea in kids can be a sign of terrible things, hon,” I told my husband, Anthony.
“He does not have cancer, Deb,” he replied. Read more…
Sleep eludes me as I listen to my baby son’s labored breathing.
Intellectually, I’m pretty certain he’ll be fine with another few hours to kick this flu.
Instinctively, it’s a different matter. Some part of me says I must stay awake to listen for signs of distress.
So I’m awake. I’m awake and thinking how exhausting life is right now, but also how full of hope. In four hours, I’ll begin my penultimate day with my new job. I’ll be working from home to help nurse Littler J back to health while wrapping up what I can, reporting to my manager via instant messaging instead of office check-ins. What a gift it is to have the option, if only for another day!
My older son, Li’l D, was sick just last Thursday. I wanted to wrap up as much as possible before leaving my current job, so asked my husband to stay home with him. He works in television, but I figured there was a chance he could bail since it was a non-filming day.
My husband took Li’l D to work on set instead. Read more…
I started a new job two months ago.
I will leave it next Friday.
This is not typical for me.
But there can be a dark side to stability. Sometimes it means staying with someone who hurts you because the pain you know can seem better than even the possibility of worse pain somewhere else. It can mean sticking with something that limits you while keeping you comfortably, predictably “safe.” It can mean living with your wings wrapped tightly around you because you know you’re less likely to fall if you don’t even try testing your wings.
Of course, avoiding falling means you also never learn to fly.
I only saw this a few months ago.
I used a different analogy then, though. Read more…
as knots were massaged
from shoulders tense from
constant motion and
the universe unfolded
I am born of stardust
as to be beyond
even dreams of calculating
are the motions of
through time and space
that led me to be
here, to be
are so small
held up against
oceans filled with
stardust in myriad forms
and the stars in the sky
(that we are a part of)
and the galaxies
from which, so far away,
their brilliance still
that we are
stardust among stardust
asked how I was,
my “good. better than good,
better than in a long while,”
was offered through a shimmering
a hug from one woman,
then from another,
who whispered “God bless”
as she released me
I told her
before stepping out into darkness
filled with twinkling lights
and telling the sky,
“He already has”