I was over at Writing, Wishing (one of my favorite blogs) and her post today really struck a chord with me.Alison's post is entitled "Intrinsic Goodness" and is about the goodness within us that exists clearly as children and just seems to get sucked out of us as we grow up in this world. This post literally made me cry.I've been thinking alot about this topic lately as I watch my children grow and I fear the effects of bullying at school or just mean statements by friends and peers....more
I didn’t sleep very well on Friday night. To be honest, I was up until 1 am, in bed, watching news coverage of the tragedy in Aurora (probably not the smartest thing for me to do).
These kinds of senseless killings definitely shake me to the core....more
What a day. The sun’s shining, the birds are singing, the A380s are flying overhead (I live in the inner west) so I grabbed Crash* and threw a rug on the lawn and we surveyed our sparkling surrounds. In between eating grass my 8 month old soaked in the scenes. He’s been trapped indoors by rain for about a week and he couldn’t really contain his joy at finding there was a world outside his colourful rubber mat and the table he’s been systematically pulling himself up on and then falling off. ...more
There he is, only a few hours old, stealing away my heart. He does it quietly with soft grunts and squeaks –and quick little breaths inside his warm blanket, making my cradling arms simultaneously weak and as strong as iron. Welcome tiny grandson!...more
I know the signs. Having witnessed three of my children be seduced cult-like to ‘The Other Side’, I recognise when they will succumb to the teenage years where never a sensible word will be heard again until they graduate from the University of Life. The side where The Gibberish Generation reside. The side were a fun, innocent, playful child turns into ... into ... I don’t know what. Words escape me.Last year I was happy to report that Child No. 4 was showing no signs of defecting. I was happy to report that last year. This year, I fear though the tell-tale signs are there....more
I’m just a girl. Once you strip away the independence, the pride, the roots, the job, the background, the degree and the title—I’m just a girl. I’m a girl who wants to be loved. Yes, I’m admitting it…I want to be loved, I want to be cared about, thought of, looked after—I want to be someone’s. But it’s hard to admit that…It’s hard to strip away all those layers and expose the core. Because at the core is vulnerability. At the core is innocence. At the core is me. The real me. The me that he doesn’t see....more
And it's not just because I don't like the wrinkles that come with aging, or the new aches or the awareness that gravity ... is not a friend.
I want to be four again because I long for the heart.
When I was a little girl, there was no doubt I was a tomboy, through
and through. There was simply no better way to spend the long hot
Georgia summer days than to run barefoot through fresh-cut grass, catch
crickets and lizards, climbing trees, and hopping from rock to rock in
the creek behind my neighborhood.
That being said, I did have the occasional moment of girlishness (as
is normal, even for tomboys). For example I remember making the long
drive to visit my mama Summers and her mother (my great-grandmother)
A recent visit to one of my fave boutiques on South Beach proved a wake up call in my self concept and the need to defend inner beauty.
I’d ventured over to Washington Avenue where lie a few small
boutiques housing rather affordable feminine digs from Rio to Rome, one
selling jeans from Brazil that feel like they’ve been laundered 20
times, embroidered with feminine designs that are just very me.
Yesterday was my son's 29th birthday. Everyone knows that because I lamented about it all day. Now, his niece is the apple of his eye so to speak. There is little he will not do for her, and when he is not home she is constantly worrying where he was. So she was very concerned that Uncle Eric was not going to have a birthday party. We didn't tell her he WAS having a party or where, but she proposed that they should have a proper tea party.
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