So today I made a list of all the failures I’ve had over the past ten or so years. Yeah, I know. It’s not something a person would normally want to do. It’s a tad masochistic. (“Ya think?” yells the peanut gallery that sits in the back row of my brain.) But sometimes a chick can’t help it. Sometimes I just have to stare it all down and see what I can decipher. Maybe a comforting metaphor is lingering just beneath the surface. Maybe not.…
Me at three. My mom did not get me. The showdown started early. Mom wanted a baby doll of a little girl whom she could adorn in frilly dresses and patent leather Mary Janes. She dreamt of kempt hair with cute ribbons. What she got, however, was chubby, messy me. I was my own little animal with a bit of a feral streak. I had no use for the corduroy jumpers and matching tights that she perpetually tried to inflict on me. I…
My Old School OK, I’m having a mom conundrum. This particular issue spins around and around in my brain like a crazy dog endlessly chasing its tail. Sometimes it keeps me up nights. It’s certainly caused some considerable drama in our household over the past few years. In the big picture scheme of it all, I’m not even sure if all my fuss and worry is warranted. The issue I’m talking about is education. We have a struggle on our…