Saturday, March 31, 2007

My Dad

My dad wasn't my dad yet in this pic.

He was in his early 20's fighting a war.

Sometimes I think he was always fighting it.

He loved me.

I loved him.

We just never quite clicked.

The teen years were hard on us both.

Lots of words said that can never be called back.

Hearts bruise so easily.

I wish I could tell him it was all okay

It doesn't hurt any more

but he cant hear me now

and it would be a lie.

I hate to hear people whine about their childhoods.

It's over

It's done

And it wasn't bad

just not good enough.

so I learned

laugh loud

love hard


never hold back

take the extra step

reach out your hand

hold the ones you love close

stay as late as you can for as long as you can

'cause the night is never long enough

we all have to go home.

and we'll be a long time gone.


It's a lovely night on the porch....

planting things makes me think of my dad

he spoke roughly to his only daughter

 but his hands were gentle with his plants

all day I coaxed plants from pots into the ground

with the hands he gave me

we grew something together.

Thanks, Dad.

cheerleading convention

I thought gymnastic meets were an adventure...

long rides

cold bleachers

tiny girls hurling themselves past you at inopportune moments....

cheerleaders are like gymnasts on crack!

with ribbons...

and the sweetest faces....

Caitlin went to the Nationals in Atlanta.

HUGE place

girls puting on makeup and bouncing off each others's shoulders in every nook and cranny

I drove in Atlanta

bumper to bumper

80 miles an hour

in the dark!

I got rid of all my phobias at once!

I hate to drive at night & have an unreasonable fear of interstates....they require too much commitment, you can't turn around!

But I did it!

And I had fun!

I only took two Ativan.

It was a big deal for me!

I am free!

And all it took was a cheerleader who just happens to be my daughter & needed her mom.

I can do anything now!


Saturday, March 24, 2007

sex and substitutes

I was talking to an adorable Kindergartener the other day.The conversation got into the subject of her mama going to work.

She lisped,"you can call my mama if you ever need a good prostitute."

Imust have looked like I was drowning momentarily, because she added in the tone one uses to speak to the simple-minded,"If you can't come to work, just call her and she'll prostitute for your class."

I gotta meet this woman!