Target already emailed me a Black Friday ad. It’s November first. I feel torn about this. On one hand, I love anticipation. We’re going to Mexico next week; we booked the trip in March. I have been savoring the feeling of being excited about Mexico every single week for so long now, like a delicious … Continue reading
Sometimes the day starts at 5:30am and never slows down. Sometimes my daughter cries for me for over thirty minutes when I leave in the morning and leaving actually feels like severing a part of myself. And I cry in the car before I even exit the garage. Sometimes Delta emails to say our flight … Continue reading
Today I heard the words I have been looking forward to hearing my entire life. “Mommy, read to me.” She didn’t have to ask me twice. I spent a lot of time during V’s first year on my phone. To be honest, I was grateful for it: I was so sleep deprived that I needed … Continue reading
“But if you can’t find the right words, why not paint it? You’re an artist, after all.” “If you can’t say it, paint it. That’s easy to say. Not so easy to do, though.” “But it may be important to try, don’t you think?” “And perhaps Captain Ahab should have set out after sardines.” Masahiko … Continue reading
Exactly two-thirds into this process, and I feel like I’m only just getting to the heart of my feelings. Like there were sixty-plus other days of gunk floating at the top that had corroded, and had to be scooped and poured off. Here it is again — sentences running through my mind all day, translating … Continue reading
It happens, every time. Just so you know. I get my stuff together. I lace up my shoes. You come over to me, babble about something. Eventually, it happens. I say, “Okay, I’m going to work. Can you give me a hug?” And you do. That’s not the moment though. It’s five seconds later, when … Continue reading
I am tired in my very bones today. My body aches, my eyes are forming bleary tears every time I yawn. But even with that, while at the park and feeling achy, slow, I still notice you. And when I take the time to do it, time completely stops; it’s like I’m freezing you into … Continue reading
There are these moments that flow like total perfection. I’m sitting with V on the couch. She’s watching Sesame Street. She is constantly sitting as close to me as possible, sometimes even on me. I am reading the new Murakami, Killing Commendatore. V wraps an arm around mine, plays with the seam on my pants. … Continue reading
V and I went to see my dad today, and although he hasn’t asked me this in a long time, at some point in our conversation (and trying to stop V from tearing all the guitars off the walls), he said, “So, are you writing?” For so long, the answer has been, “No, but I … Continue reading
There is a certain way you call me. “Mommy.” It’s not really calling me; it’s not loud. You say it softly, repeating it, but not asking for anything. You say it when you sit in my lap, you say it when I come home. You say it when we’re doing nothing together. Sometimes you’ll put … Continue reading
small life, slow life 