Once upon a time, I was pathologically afraid of spiders. When I was a child, I screamed for my father, paralyzed, whenever I encountered one. Size was irrelevant. Interestingly, I wasn’t paralyzed if he wasn’t home, nor did I call for my mother – she was terrified too. On those occasions, I fled. My father picks spiders up with his bare hands. He’d laugh at … Continue reading Spiders and me.
I’m folding a couple of the T-shirts that haven’t yet been demoted to dryer status when all of a sudden, I’m thinking about my son’s father’s reaction when I told him I was pregnant. We limped along for another two and a half years, but he never quite forgave me. [i] That isn’t what I’m thinking about, however. I’m thinking about the day he came … Continue reading Memories are the darndest thing.
Seven months ago, my daughter ghosted me. She was angry and upset over something I’d said and rather than talking to me about it, she went with radio silence. During a subsequent text exchange about five months later as she tried to reconnect, suggesting it had nothing to do with me, mostly. She had fallen into another abusive relationship and that had led to problems. … Continue reading You’re not as awful as you think.
Everything I know about parenting I learned from McDonald’s. Okay, not everything, but I did learn some important things. “Time to lean, time to clean” for instance. Cleaning as you go is better than trying to fit in an attic to basement extravaganza. The latter never happens when you have young kids. Also, be organized. A little preplanning is worth its weight in gold. And, … Continue reading Everything I know about parenting, I learned from McDonald’s.
From Famine to Feast. 