My momma’s heart that morning was heavy, my mind racing with worry, anxiety roiling my stomach. The cause for my worry? My eldest daughter. Mini-me.
Four women lean in, a tight circle of Grulich Women The youngest 8 months, the eldest 86 years Each face an age progression of the one before Paired with that glowing milky Grulich skin We are an advertisement for Pond’s beauty cream Daughter, Mother, Grandmother, Great grandmother Women who kiss foreheads and murmur gracious complements Four… Continue reading Four Generations
When I was a kid, my stepdad used to play this game with us. He called it “The Quiet Game”. Mostly, I’m sure, because “The Get These Kids to Finally Shut the Heck Up Game” takes too long to say. The game went like this. We’d be driving somewhere; he at the helm, my mom… Continue reading The Quiet Game
“You’re just like your mother.” I’ve heard that curse thrown at many a woman, and never as a compliment. Just like your mother. The implication? Critical. Nagging. Sharp-tongued. Impossible to please. But the phrase always gave me hope. If all women eventually transform into images of their moms, I was seriously in luck! Nancy Smerdell is one… Continue reading Just Like My Mother…
My storybook changeling, aching for flight’s freedom You wish for fairy’s wings Turnabout and dream of the sea’s cool embrace ’round a silver-scaled tail. Yet, neither wind nor water has quenched your coals of innate soul-fire Phoenix girl born from the smoldering ashes of a mother’s final flame Lips the color of blood smeared across… Continue reading Phoenix Girl
Listen! Crying in the kitchen and hollering in the hall Eight eyes rolling up so sharply, irises get lost Deep dramatic sighs of simmering discontent Mix with muttered murmurs of imminent mutiny From the other side of the house, a door slams Knocking the picture frames and our smiles askew Teenage daughters, my four darling divas,… Continue reading Teenage Daughter Bop
I have a confession. In the 17 years I’ve been doing this mom thing, I have never paid my children for doing chores. They get no allowance for their efforts. Why should they? They are required to do the dishes, cook the occasional meal, and fold laundry simply because they are part of this family.… Continue reading When the Blessings Aren’t Immediate: Part 1