Once I was a cave for you Strong walls and a deep hearth Warm and safe and home My skinny arms sheltered – Not too thin for you, Tiny little thing, sprawled or curled I was a whole landscape You grew as you do when you Have a home to grow out of It is good and right and true But I feel I am small again Too small for you To be enveloped like you ought to be When the world is too un-cavey I wonder if it is enough That once I was a shelter – It seems to be when you cling And I can’t surround you…
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There was a school shooting…
There was a school shooting near my home today. Not many details have been released, but there was a school shooting near my home today. Parents – friends – received automated voice messages from the school district informing them that their children were on lockdown. News footage covered the school like it’s covered so many – too many – before. There are cliches around this now; how did that happen? A friend of mine texted me a link to a news article while I was plunked down at the YMCA getting some work done, my babies safely playing mere feet away from me in the child watch, oblivious to the absolute…
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Mothering in (Racial) Tension
This is a piece I wrote at the prompting of Motherlode – a website which features stories surrounding Motherhood. Their March Prompt is “What Now?” and there are a lot of fabulous pieces by writers trying to figure out how to navigate the crazy we are all experiencing right now. If you want to head over there, I would love it if you read and shared my piece (and as always, I would love to hear from you in the comments!), but also if you checked out what the other writers are up to! Happy reading! One morning as I am summoning the energy to stand up, my daughter comes…
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Playtime
And they play together. She is tirelessly into all.the.things. She is relentless in her exploration. Big things. Small things. Sharp things. Messy things. She will decimate a Jenga set in .342 seconds after it took me 3 minutes away from the oven to put back together and in the box. He is crawling after me, then her, but mostly me. He is putting the big, small, sharp and messy things in his mouth. He is being encouraged by excited cheerleading from the big one. He is coming dangerously close to climbing. Dangerously. And they are an unholy army of ruckus. They are amok. The children are amok. But then, as…
