Part One is Here
Part Two: So, we made it to Boston. Once off the plane, we gave each other the usual smiling silent, “Well, that was awkward.” expressions and made our way to baggage claim. Shortly, we were ready to tackle Boston’s public transportation system and take the bus into town.
So, remember a week or so ago when I told you about my weird day leading me to my grandparents’ old house and then to their graves? And remember when the really nice people who own it now, Tami and Patrick, invited me to come see it? Well, today was the day! My dad and I, along with my mom and stepdad swung by the old place today where we were graciously welcomed by the “new” homeowners. They’ve actually owned the house for three years now, so while it isn’t new for them anymore, being there without my grandparents was very, very new. The main word that comes to mind when I think of our visit today is closure. I was worried I’d leave their home with sad memories, but instead I felt overjoyed. Let me tell you why…. Continue reading
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
Okay, okay. I know this is a typical cheesy Valentine’s title, but y’all. I am FEELING the love this weekend. Let me start with romantic love (since everyone assumes that’s what this is all about), and then move on to the real message behind this babble. Continue reading
I feel like I’ve let my fellow women down. Most of my girlfriends and female family members have a wicked fashion sense and an eye for design. I have never been one to obsess over home decor, or even decorating my own body. Over the past few years, I’ve discovered scarves, skinny jeans, and riding boots. It seems to make me appear to have a little fashion sense, but the truth is that I do not. I can look at a person and tell if they’re dressed well or not, but most of the clothes I own are hand-me-downs from women who dress better than me. I find it almost impossible to actually pick out a new and exciting outfit and wear it confidently. Continue reading
As I sit here watching my beautiful little angel puff attempting to eat his Disney pasta and peas, I can’t help but reminisce of a specific moment in my life. It was right after my wisdom teeth had been taken out. I was attempting to feed myself some Kraft Mac and Cheese (THE BEST PASTA IN A BOX EVER), but was so discombobulated that I couldn’t find my mouth. It was so frustrating. I was starving and all I wanted more than anything in the world was the delicious, orange, mushy-ness in my pie hole. Instead, I stabbed my cheeks repeatedly with four tiny knives like a drunken idiot. Continue reading
Every once in a while, I’ll have a random flashback to my childhood and go, “What the hell were we THINKING?!” Especially now, when watching Jack play I like to reminisce of what pretend-time was for me. I even remember my best friend Sarah and I discussing as children when we didn’t have fun pretending anymore. It was almost as depressing as finding out “you know who” is really your parents. We just couldn’t do it. It wasn’t the same. I wonder if other kids reached an age where they recognized that their imaginations couldn’t entertain them as well as they used to. Looking back, some of the things we did for fun was either physically dangerous or psychologically messed up. It makes me wonder if our parents ever had any idea what the hell we were up to. Here’s what I mean: Continue reading
Every day, as I prepare a meal for my one year old, I think of my dad. Especially when I’m cutting his sandwiches into perfect little squares so his squishy fingers can shove bite-sized pieces into his mouth. It reminds me of the meals my dad used to make me. Peanut butter and jelly was my fav. Four perfect squares, hold the crust. Cheese toast was second best. These bits were even smaller. Tiny individual toasts with melted cheddar. Another frequent request was “pink pink”, my word for scrambled eggs. Dad isn’t quite sure where that came from, but we think I called it that because the eggs came in a pink carton. I didn’t call scrambled eggs anything, but “pink pink” until I was embarrassingly old. When I am cutting Jack’s sandwiches up for him, I think of my dad and all the fun we had growing up. All the weird and unique things I did with just my dad and no one else. Here are just a few of the things that I flashback to while cutting sandwiches: Continue reading
When I was a little girl, around 5 or 6, my Daddy and I would sing together at different local events in our very small community. He played the guitar and taught me some pretty grown up songs. I think his song choices were what made us so popular. I was pretty sure we were famous. I was exposed to a lot of music growing up. Both of my parents are musical and my father worked(still does) at our local radio station. I remember singing “Achy Breaky Heart” on the radio. For weeks after that, random older ladies would ask me to sing it for them personally. I didn’t really get why they liked it so much, but looking back I imagine a little girl who couldn’t say her “R”s singing a heart wrenching country song with all her being was pretty frickin’ cute. Continue reading
The Munchkin Nugget 