Category: seasons
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Kindness is cool
I miss this guy today. Although, I’m too tired to possibly run after him if we were home. That’s how it is though, right? You can’t wait to put them to bed and have some alone time, but the minute you put them to bed for some alone time, you miss the crap out of…
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Stylish free-thinker?! ha, sure!
Jack and I were featured as “stylish free-thinkers” for a pretty awesome clothing company called The LB Brand. A few months ago they were searching for brand reps, so I submitted myself. What the hell right? Free shirt, a free shirt I actually love and makes me feel kinda sexy (which is hard to come…
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‘Today, we’re younger than we’re ever gonna be.’ -Regina Spektor
I guess day care is alright … they at least inform parents when their clothes are inside out. But I miss my guy this morning. We’ve been sick. Cold number 2 in 3 months. Good track record… He’s the happiest, sick baby I’ve ever seen and other than the cough/congestion, you’d never know. The joys…
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Willing fall
I’m going to relish the next few weeks. The baby and I will never be this close again. I heard on Radiolab that fetal cells remain in their mothers for decades. Of course they do, how can you be that attached to a person and not have some spillover? 3 weeks after waiting 37 is…
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Spring cleaning
In the mornings, after I’ve just woken up, my belly is hard and pulsing. The baby likes the right side and curls there until I get up and gravity centers us again. The pulsing feels like a wound, when all the blood rushes to one place in your body and you’d swear your heart was…
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Monday Journal entry
April 28, 2014 (I almost wrote 2019 … whoa … slow down) Boys share a cigarette on the street corner. One straddles his bike while a smoke points northwest from his ear, a small contrail against his hair, mimicking passing planes. Days grow warm. Summer’s heavy foot will soon walk across the valley. I need…
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Feather grass
My mom says those are feather grasses, or look like them anyway. I have no idea what they are. They don’t need a name. I ran my fingers over and through them without knowing anything about them and that was enough. They dotted one hillside on my Saturday morning hike. I’m trying to get out…
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A not very Christmasy Christmas poem
My mom asks me to write Christmas poems every year for our cards. We’ve been doing it since I was in 10th grade, I think. She’ll take the photo, I’ll write the words and lately the poems that I try to sit down and write have turned out too dark for the holidays. I’m not…
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Raising an army
The beldams are out today shuffling their carts. Maroon smocks, pointy hats and gloves. The desert cold slows hands to wish bones, easily broken. Their men are dead. Of course, they’ve outlived them. They wear Christ around their necks. Yell fears to each other across benches because whispers haven’t registered since they gave a damn.…