Just a few hours less than a year ago, I held my tiny second son in my arms.
He fit so neatly in the crook of my arm then. Now, a heartbeat and an eternity later, he wouldn’t stay there even if he did still fit.
I get that. It’s been such a whirlwind of a year that I have a hard time sitting still now, too. I feel like a storm will come along and blow me away if I try to settle in, so I’d better just keep rolling with it and test my landing seat when the winds slow.
This was the year I moved my older son to a new school, only to discover a new school with a mean teacher is a far more destructive choice than an old school with a loving one. This was the year he quickly returned to the old one.
(It’s also the year I learned a loving teacher can work wonders, pulling a terrified child out of his new-built shell with her tender tenacity.)
The ride was long,
but the sense of hope
well worth it
Anything could happen
would glimpse my writing
over my shoulder and know
I needed to write their next
My sister told me she forgave him.
She’d had a beautiful dream encouraging her to do so.
I believe in forgiveness, but I didn’t see the point.
He was dead. Read more…
I know I wrote a post this morning.
I don’t like posting more than once per day.
But my five-year-old son finished his first story for school, and I am thrilled, though it is silly.
A few months ago, he could barely write the letter “R.”
Now he reads early readers with ease and can write about bad guys arriving in Mexico.
Why Mexico? Who knows?
What I do know is I am grateful for his teacher, Miss A, whom he sometimes calls “Teacher Mommy.”
Bless you, Miss A. Bless you, all teachers who make such magic, wherever it is you make it.
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…