Posts Tagged ‘joy’

Freedom to walk outside without fear

Last week I wondered about the color of justice in my country.

Last night’s delivery of the Ferguson grand jury decision played out about as I expected it. Even anticipating it, I awakened feeling gloomy about prospects for real change in the United States. I continue to wonder

What it will take for police officers everywhere to approach men of all melanin levels in the exact same way, treating shooting as a last case resort in all cases.

I wonder how change can take root when bystanders support status quo by focusing attention on property damage over fatal violence.

changeAnd yet, with all this heaviness in my heart, I find reason to smile in the tiny men who own that heart. I can’t help giggling at how my baby is doing headstands–yes, headstands–while my husband tries to change his diaper.

I watch him dance and wonder what else will inspire him to dance in the years to come.

I pray freedom to walk outside without fear will carry his dancing feet far.

Just like Mommy taught me!

Long before my son was born, I occasionally crossed paths with childrened people. They were a strange lot to me, with one particularly peculiar habit: sharing their kids’ newest accomplishments. To my non-parent ears, these accomplishments were pretty unremarkable.

  • Oh, your kid can smile now? You must be so proud.
  • Your kid’s pooping in a toilet now? That’s . . . wow. I can’t imagine your sense of achievement.
  • Your kid knows the alphabet now? Better sign him up for med school, pronto!

The end results these parents shared hardly seemed noteworthy to me. So why, I wondered, were they spoken of with such pride?

My conclusion then: Parents are weird.

"Isn't it amazing?!" "Yep, you've got a real Van Gogh on your hands!"

“Isn’t it amazing?!” “Yep, you’ve got a real Van Gogh on your hands!”

A couple of weeks ago, I had to help my four-year-old son with his capital “R.”  Read more…

The feeling of our love

He touches the “map” card before throwing it across the floor. He spins some circles, a four-year-old’s idea of breakdancing, while waiting for it to settle.

“Now touch ‘shell,'” I tell him, starting the same mirthful cycle anew.

By the time we finish, he’s spun more circles on the floor than I can count. He runs laps between the living room and the bedroom, more ready for bedtime than he realizes. His heart is big, this little man’s, but so is his boyful exuberance.

boy + 30 seconds + 1 raw avocado = this

We settle in for stories. He protests my choice, even though he gets his choice next. As I read, I swap real words for silly ones to see if he’s paying attention: Read more…

What kids and shopping have in common

It could be argued there are many things kids and shopping have in common, but the one that’s pertinent to this post is:

I used to dislike both these things. A lot.

In my very first guest blog entry ever, the posting of which I’m celebrating formally with crumpets and tea*, I describe what changed and why. If you’ve read TMiYC for a few months, you probably suspect it relates to the picture I posted in the entry “The myth of perfect people.”

You might be wrong. But you might not be! You’ll have to mosey over to Cookie’s Chronicles, blog home to the lovely Sue (a.k.a. “Cookie’s Mom”), to find out.

Without further ado, I present to you:
Mother, Child, Mother 

* Yeah, I thought you’d see right through that. In the real world, I had to turn all my focus toward not running around shouting, “OMGyouguysmyfirstguestblogentryisliveyayyayyayyaywowwhee!”


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