I’m being judgmental, but I am a mother trying to find some sort of cause and effect, so please indulge me.
After seeing the list of items seized by the police from Nancy Lanza’s home after the beyond-horrific Newtown shooting, I have to conclude that Nancy Lanza should, at the very least, have known her son was too emotionally unstable (and volatile) to have access to guns. After seeing the list of items that were in her house, things she had seen, his diaries, a morbid photograph of a dead body, checks for guns for him she had written, etc. – I think she has more than just a little culpability. Read the Rest »
Woke up to this today:
Didn’t expect it. (That’s an upturned chair on the lawn, if you’re wondering.)
I got the flu two days ago – horrible – in an instant my health was completely gone. I woke up in the middle of the night and felt as if I was going to pass out. I got extremely dizzy, nauseous and confused and went a little crazy – I ran out the front door into the cold night and sat on the driveway to cool off, I was so hot. I couldn’t move. My husband came this close to taking me to the hospital. I’m better now but still in bed and weak.
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A little boy gave Ella a Valentine today – a whoopie cushion that says “Love Stinks” on it. Heh!
He moaned and groaned about how weirdly “American” it is for a father to take his daughters on an actual “date” to a dinner dance. “You wouldn’t see this sort of thing in Dublin,” he sniffed. He didn’t go last year. This year he dragged his feet. Then you know what he did? He decided to go. He organized a limo for their big night with some of the other dads, and said it’s “because it’s not everyday a dad gets to take his daughters to a dance.” (-:
This is why I love him.
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It’s sad, when I think about how there really isn’t anyone on my side of the family for my children to “know” (because my parents died, and the rest of them live in far-flung countries, and my sister lives across the country…). My husband’s family are all in Ireland, so we really are orphaned when it comes to holidays, grandparent’s day at school; as a mother I just feel robbed not having that everyday family contact with relatives – knowing them, their personalities, traditions, their stories. Read the Rest »
Like a lot of moms, I’m a card-carrying member of the Mamarazzi – that persistent group of moms who insists on photographing every moment that happens in their children’s lives, and in the act of trying to get that perfect photo – get a lot of flack from the family for interrupting, staging, and saying stuff like, “Say cheese!” But the thing is, our families never complain when they see – and covet – the photos we take. Because a photo is not just a photo, it’s a memory captured. And when I finally get around to putting it all on video, and we sit down together as a family and watch it – it is amazing.
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There are some things in relation to parenting that I take credit for even though the credit might not fully belong to me (like, for example, my children’s musical ability – although I get to sit in the audience and bask in reflected glory it’s usually my husband who slogs through the grueling daily practice and therefore deserves the credit – but I drive them to and from, I shlepp their stuff, I get them ready for performances, I nag/cajole and bribe, I listen, I worry…I get a percentage of the credit, but not all of it…). One of the things I take credit for is the fact that my 11-year-old daughter, Fiona, an iPhone-carrying-eye-rolling tween, still believes in Santa Claus. Read the Rest »
I saw this on a minivan today so I just had to take a picture. (-:
Hello from Ireland where they don’t celebrate Thanksgiving, but we do over at my brother-in-law’s house.
Today my post about the meaning of Thanksgiving, The Homeless Woman at the Supermarket, has been featured on Blogher.com’s LIFE page. I’m kind of thrilled about this – they even sent me some blog bling, below, so please check out my post while your turkey is cooking if you can…and have very a happy Thanksgiving. xo
In my last post I alluded to the fact that I, too, have a field of proverbial unicorns I go to in my head when the going gets boring, tough, or crappy and I want to disappear. Only my field isn’t full of unicorns. For now, let’s just say it might be full of Ryan Goslings. Read the Rest »