on the daily
my mother came across the idea of chalk blessing your home for the feast of the epiphany. basically the blessing is a way to invite god into your home on the daily.
and at the end… there was you
you. where do i begin with you?
well… jay… simply put… you are tough. tough in every sense of the word.
let that shit go (part two)
there was no awareness of the moment while it was happening.
life simply moved on.
life can be brutal like that.
and the mets will WIN!
i wish i could somehow show this photo to myself ten years ago.
“chill. you will find a GORGEOUS man. a good man. and you will have a baby boy with curly blonde hair and crystal clear blue eyes. and they will both love you so much that they root for the mets.
so wonderfully ours
to my hunny on your second birthday,
two. oh my. my boy, my heart, my world. you are two. how can this be? on one hand i can hardly believe two whole years have passed since we met. on the other it seems like an entire lifetime ago when it was just me and baba and snoop dogg.
keep f*cking going.
today was the longest of my marathon training runs. this week and in particular this run have been glaring up at me from my training calendar for the last six months.
i believe more.
this morning… while eating handfuls of banana chips and playing with his little people toys… my almost two year old stopped dead in his tracks. he looked up… smiled, waved, and said “hi!”
in the thick of it.
there are many lies new parents are told. one of the most popular, aside from, “you can sleep when the baby sleeps,” is “it only gets harder from here. you will miss these days when they are older.” each time i hear this lie… and i hear it a lot… i have to physically bite my tongue to stop myself from replying with a firm, “shove it up your ass.”
all i can say is hold on.
but the very last thing my old man wrote was, “it’s hard to imagine that someone who has done so much in such a short amount of time is really just getting started. ant, all i can say is hold on….”
it’s me. your mom.
hi hunny. it’s me. your mom. your all day ery’day playmate. your constant companion. your personal jungle gym. your butt wiper. your tear drier. your boo boo kisser. your snack bitch.