Letters To Jack: Letter Two

Oh Jack,

This week has just been the worst.  One day (if you decide to have children), you will drop your kid off at daycare or school for the first time and you will discover what real solid pain feels like.

Today was your fourth day.  The first two days I let you go just for a few hours to get used to it.  Yesterday, I left you for ten hours. TEN.  For ten hours I left you with total strangers.  A little boy pushed you down and scratched your beautiful face and stole your toy.  Your teacher handed me a piece of paper explaining your injuries.  She said you did nothing.  You just cried.  I purposely did not ask which little tot caused harm to my perfect child because I knew that you might one day become friends with him, and that one day you might want him to come over and play, and you might even grow up to be best friends-and I would hate his little toddler guts for the rest of my life. Continue reading

The Reasons I Cry

I cry all the time.  I’m not depressed.  I’m actually a pretty happy person.  Life hands me some lemons, but usually it’s all lemonade and smiles around here.  Show me a commercial with the perfect soundtrack and a well developed story line and I’ll show you an admiring consumer attempting to hold back the tears.  You know that really awkward scene in American Beauty?  Where weird guy next door describes the movement of a plastic bag floating around in the wind (pre-Katy Perry, thank you very much) and he starts crying at the beauty of it?  I was right there with him.  Yes, emo-stoner-guy!  Yes!  There is beauty in trash!  Normal isn’t beautiful!  Pain is in beauty and beauty is in PAIN! Continue reading