Friday, January 29, 2010

Week 4

Friday, January 22, 2010

What does it say about my own vernacular,

when my two-year-olds favorite new word is “now.”

Not just “now,” but “NOOOWW.”

“My hand . . . NOOOWW, mommy,” he says,

holding out his hand and pointing to my cell phone.

Saturday, January 23, 2010

I am stumped, trying to understand the appeal

of the top of the dining room table.

I guess my first problem is trying to apply logic to the issue.

Sunday, January 24, 2010

Thanks to the genius button pushing of my two-year-old,

my cell phone is now reading my text messages out-loud to me.

My genius button pushing

has yet to figure out how to turn it off.

Monday, January 25, 2010

As I pull him down from the pantry shelves

he is scaling for the millionth time,

it confirms he got his risk genes from his daddy.

Tuesday, January 26, 2010

I’ve decided that God knew

He needed to put two-year-olds in cute bodysuits

so we wouldn’t be too tempted to strangle them.

Wednesday, January 27, 2010

There’s nothing like a two year old

having the ability to slam your ego to the ground.

“No, mommy, no . . . no sing.”

Thursday, January 28, 2010

I wonder what goes through his head

as he climbs into the pedestal sink and turns on the water.

Friday, January 22, 2010

Week 3

Friday, January 15, 2010

Sleep eluded me yet again,

leaving me to walk around in my fog filled bubble.

Saturday, January 16, 2010

Growing up, family game night was

Monopoly or Operation.

Twister if we had company.

For my boys, Rockband! (Beatles version, of course.)

Sunday, January 17, 2010

Death is like a wisp of smoke that seeps under the door,

smoothly wrapping itself around your ankle and

wrenching you to the ground.

Monday, January 18, 2010

We heard the sound of the diesel engine

long before we could see it.

It was a mad dash to the window, kids and adults alike.

Smiles on our faces, hands in the air as the world’s

friendliest garbage man stops in front of our house.

Now the day can begin.

Tuesday, January 19, 2010

“It’s okay, brother. You can hold my hand if you want.”

The world could use a little more brotherly love.

Wednesday, January 20, 2010

Ahh, the sun, long hidden—showing it’s face,

making people do strange things.

I went for a run . . . damn.

Thursday, January 21, 2010

In a moment of self-reflection,

I realize my “Florence Nightingale” skills max out

after twenty-four hours,

just as “suck-it-up” mode kicks in.

Friday, January 15, 2010

Week 2

Friday, January 8, 2010

The hands on my clock have entered some strange time-warp,

quickly counting down the time I have left to be productive.

Saturday, January 9, 2010

We squeeze together in my chair,

the morning silence wrapped around us.

He with his sippy cup, me with my coffee, watching Elmo. Bliss.

Sunday, January 10, 2010

The older I get, the more depressing the mall becomes.

Monday, January 11, 2010

He can’t possibly be turning thirty-five today—

the brother who is always five years younger.

That would mean . . .

Tuesday, January 12, 2010

A valuable lesson: When filled with nervous energy,

it is not good to drink three cups of coffee.

Wednesday, January 13, 2010

I watched the UPS man scurry away from our front door,

as the ferocious beast on the other side did his thing.

His bark really is worse then his bite. Sometimes.

Thursday, January 14, 2010

How have I been so lucky,

to be blessed with so many dear friends?

Friday, January 8, 2010

Week 1

Friday, January 1, 2010
I carefully picked-up the white box,
cradling the evil contraption before chucking it out the window.
One less thing to step on in the morning.

Saturday, January 2, 2010
Sitting around. No plans. No agenda.
No chaos . . . for a brief moment.

Sunday, January 3, 2010
I know I should be doing something,
but I can’t seem to motivate myself to do “it” or
figure out what “it” is.

Monday, January 4, 2010
I’m slouched in my chair, eyelids heavy and burning.
One cup. Two. Three.
Coffee’s not working.
Nobody in their right mind should be up at four AM.

Tuesday, January 5, 2010
I watched their backs as they walked up the sidewalk to school,
hand in hand.
Daddy and his mini-me.
There was a softening in my heart.

Wednesday, January 6, 2010
They are everywhere.
I sit and watch, eleven toddlers spinning around me.
I am thankful their mom’s are not too far from reach.

Thursday, January 7, 2010
which I normally thrive in—breath a steady relief of air in,
foiled me this morning.