In the wake of the tragedy in Connecticut, I wanted to do what most of us writers did and that is work it out for ourselves through the exercise of writing. But for me, the right words never came. That day, I sat with my son on my knee, wetting his head down with my tears and I could not feel anything but heart sickness and grief. I wanted it out, off my shoulders and down on paper but I’m telling you as real and tactile as my emotions were … the words just couldn’t come. I didn’t and I still don’t know how to talk about what happened. I never let Jonah watch any of what was flashing on the television screen. I…
Archive for
Jonah was four months old on December 4th but at the same time he became the four month old that looks like a twelve month old. He’s a big kid. Not just his head, people. All of him is growing like he’s in a rush to become a full grown adult by spring and if I don’t start force feeding him coffee pronto, he will get there. I don’t care if that whole coffee-makes-you-shorter thing is a myth. I’m giving it a go. I’ve also called Alice and asked if she has any of those tiny cakes lying around that Jonah could use. One magic bite and it’s shrinksville for you, baby … back where you’re supposed to be, you gigantic Christmas turkey. You…
Dear Random Child at Swiss Chalet, Thank you for telling me you liked my baby. This was very sweet and you immediately won me over, which is saying something because the truth is Little Bit, that I do not like babies or kids other than the ones that get ripped from my belly. So, you’re cute and you’re probably thinking that your high cute factor buys you the ability to get away with things. All kinds of things! Right? Hell, I am no stranger to that idea. Kid, I invented that idea. You think my Dad ever yelled at me? How do you think I acquired all the hair accessories and toys I had when I was your age, hmmm? I smiled and made…
You know I keep getting asked one particular question over and over again pretty much since the moment Jonah was born and I will say for the record that asking this question right after having a baby isn’t exactly cruel but for sure it hits me harder than maybe it does for others. Drum roll, please. “So, when are you planning to go back to work?” Now, I can stomach this question when it’s coming from my mother or another family member even though it’s not my favourite discussion to have. But when the damn checkout lady at my local Safeway asks about Jonah’s age and then follows up with the all-too-bloody-popular-shot-to-the-groin question about going back to work, I think my facial expression says…
