Silently, I pull out the glass bowl. I get the metal one-cup measure without clinking it on the counter. I do not rustle the measuring spoons. I stare into the other room. I have not been detected. One false move and it will all be over. I add the flour, crack a couple of eggs, coughing over…
Writing While Half-Baked
I marched to the garden. In actuality, I wanted to run but Rusty said, “That’s just stupid.” I knew it was. I didn’t say, “Because it’s the intelligent thing to do, I want to go for a run.” I just wanted to run. I like to run. I download some reggae, specifically Third World’s 96 Degrees in…
Yoga for Moms
I mentioned before that my son can detect the presence of or intent to do yoga. He is psychic. But today, he was watching a video. I give him way too much TV when I want to selfishly mediate or practice yoga. It never works. Usually, he pounces quickly. “I’m hungry.” “I have to poop–wipe me,” or…
I Need Gandhi: Little Boys and Weapons of Mass Destruction
Give a boy an object and he’ll make a weapon of mass destruction. Every time. My son is six. I’ve watched this phenomena brewing for some time. I’m a Gandhi-loving pacifist. I never push gun toys on The Boy. I don’t give him games that promote violence, and we don’t watch “inappropriate” shows on TV. Somehow, deep…
The Little Things: When Time Stands Still in America
It’s 5:30 AM. I’m sitting in the library of the Spruce Point Inn in Bar Harbor, Maine. Bar Harbor is a quaint, nautical village–I can hear the ebb and flow of the tide and the constant warning of the fog horn, as you do in New England nautical villages–the gulls, the fog horn, the bells in the…
Horror Movie Script: Vacation Planning
I woke up at 4:11 this morning. 411 is for info. 911 is for help. I needed 911. Today’s vacation day, and that’s the day Moms everywhere must prepare. There are piles on the floor and nothing’s really ready. The boy’s going wake up on crack, and I’ll have to remember what I wanted to put into…
My Season of Obnoxious
Today’s Saturday. Dates and times are irrelevant to me for the next seven weeks until school starts. This is the time of year when you hate me. The time of year when I call you randomly, email you at all times, and disturb you at work. You get annoyed. “I’m working! Don’t you have something to do?”…
Electricity and First-World Conveniences
$187.74. The electricity bill. That’s pretty high. “Did you miss a payment?” Rusty asked. “No. I overpaid.” I pay random amounts and usually end up months ahead. Why? I don’t know. Bill ADHD. I try to get ahead of the months I know will be higher. This is one of those freaky post-recession financial behaviors I still…
School’s Out: Will My Grammar Return?
School’s out for summer. But will my grammar return? Will I be left with words and phrases like “conversating,” “presentating” and whatever you call the verb tense that includes “be gettin’?” Will I recognize that nouns and verbs combine to make complete sentences, and will I continue to acknowledge people with affirmations like “aiiight,” and “s’up” always…
The Zucchini Phantom
My garden is out of control. I disobeyed seed recommendations in all regards. I planted too early, spaced insufficiently, and failed to thin. My peas look like an invasive species about to strangle the town. I lost ten pounds eating only vegetables from the garden so I could fit down the crowded rows to pick the vegetables….