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Category: Family Frets

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Quarantine Family Court

Quarantine Family Court

“Dad, I said I was ‘sorry.’ Can you please just spank me now?” pleads my daughter with the overwrought exasperation that only a quarantined 16-year-old can muster. Family Court is in session – and will be 24/7 for at least the next month or two. Or more likely three. At least. We’re here all day together. All day. Every day. Together.  We are proof positive that familiarity does, in fact, breed contempt… and conflict… and ennui.  The transgressions add up quickly; this court’s docket can full by mid-morning. “You’ve never been spanked in your life. What are you talking about?” Must I worry about revisionist history on top of everything else? Welcome to QFC — Quarantine Family Court—West Coast Edition.… READ MORE

Certainty

Certainty

The dishes whir in the dishwasher, the sun retires from this hemisphere. My husband responds to emails, the children collude with their computers to complete work while the dogs nuzzle them.  I am alone in the spotless kitchen. I listen to the rain and debate what will sate my soul’s parched tongue. I claim this transitional hour, when day gives way to night’s quiet dark, as mine the quiet a reward for a cacophonous day. A cup of tea? A glass of wine? Either will do because neither is what I truly crave. It is certainty that is my fave. The sun will rise in the east and set in the west, of that I am sure. As for anything… READ MORE

Mom Time: Part Two

Mom Time: Part Two

I love my children. I actually like them sometimes – at least often enough to keep me out of jail and them out of house arrest. Sometimes though, I have to rely on love alone and remind myself that motherhood is a blessing. Children are cute when they’re little and incapable of wiping their own ass. It’s Darwinian: even if expelled from the perfect derriere of your perfect progeny, poop stinks – and wiping it up for more than a few years can lead to insanity. Some children are capable of rudimentary self-care by age six. By the time they reach double digits, most can feed and bathe themselves. Thank God. What little sanity any parent retains after a decade… READ MORE

Mom Time: Part One

Mom Time: Part One

]There are many roads to the Mecca of motherhood. All are bumpy.  All lead to the rollercoaster of emotions that is parenthood. The blessed and life-affirming firsts; baby’s first step, first tooth, first love and its inevitable denouement. Then there are the less savory firsts …. first time they lie, their first speeding ticket…. the firsts I hope I never know, though I doubt I will be spared.  I’m told that the ride smooths out usually… at some point. Some point soon I pray. I took three paths to motherhood.   My oldest son, aka My Souvenir Gift Item, is so nicknamed because he was my stepson but, when I divorced his father, I was blessed to keep him in the… READ MORE

Connect

Connect

“Of all sad words of tongue or pen, the saddest are these,  ‘it might have been’.” Sadness that you no longer walk upon this earth washes over me. When I’m driving a familiar route or moving through mundane tasks, my conscious mind finds room to wander, and there you are.  What might’ve been, what should I have seen, what could I have maybe done? All of these are academic – made moot by a rope. Why? As long as you’re above ground there is hope. What made you give it all up?  Suicide is a permanent solution to a temporary problem – why could you not envision the light at the end of the tunnel? Where were your emotional army… READ MORE

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