Ideally, my blog list would greet me each day as sort of a personalized magazine that is all opinion, advice, and humor columns. With a touch of my personal interests (plus size clothing, motherstuff, archaeological exhumations) thrown in. I’ve searched HUNDREDS of blogs in the past month, trying to build this blog roll of legend. And in this searching…
LE’s teacher Mrs. Z was gently molded and hand-patted from the clay of humanity into the perfect form of “Kindergarten Teacher.” She is slight and cheerful, in her early 20’s, with crystal blue eyes as wide and guiless as the babies she teaches. She laid what she called “a rubric” in front of me today at the Parent Teacher conference. It…
Daughter of Mine, this isn’t how I planned it. Why aren’t we dancing in eyelet cotton dresses together, our bare feet pressing wildflowers? Twirling with our long curly hair dancing free in the sunshine? I DID lug my Wildcat 1972 portable record player last summer into the weedy clay of our yard, but you weren’t really into Creedence and asked…
Amelia is very efficient mother, good in all the ways I am bad. That’s why I like her as a friend. I don’t feel threatened that her daughter’s braids are tight and straight and that her children always have clean dishes and don’t ever have to use tupperware lids and left over fast food…
That’s it. I’m taking a stand. My kids aren’t sexy and you’re not going to intimidate me into pretending they are, perverts and mass media. We are so afraid now. On my Pinterest, one of my most commented-on pins is whether or not this little girl is “too sexy” and “dressed inappropriately.” Or whether or not she’s just cute…
I am fat. That’s my word. That’s the word I choose. If you were to describe my body to a policeman that would be the first descriptor you’d use, except you’d probably say, “heavy set” or “larger woman,” cuz you’re too civilized to use the F word. Pssht. Fat is fine. I don’t think a fat person should ever…
Sesame Street, it’s more than it seems, friends. I have a theory. I came up with it when I got to see the first ever episode of Sesame Street from 1969. It opens with a afro-ed early version of Gordon leading a shy little girl down Sesame Street. He introduces her to his wife, says she’s new to…
Lex tells me not to mix pills and booze. Pick one and stick with it. She says that, from where she is tucked away in the leafy brown silence of her home. It used to be a mechanic’s garage, now it’s a cozy, glorious dump of a place, real wood paneling and bizarrely proportioned rooms. She doesn’t have children. She sits…
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