Monthly Archives: December 2012

Yes, It’s Really There


The Boy & I were watching TV together, snuggling in our big comfy chair when this came on:

We both said nothing for about 30 seconds, then The Boy, without moving his eyes from the screen whispered: “You’re seeing this too, right?”



I haven’t posted for a bit. It’s that time of year in retail & in my personal life as I dodge from doctor to doctor developing a treatment plan.

But today, even though I am stunned silent by the day’s events, I had to write.

I dropped The Kids off at school this morning just like millions of others. Running late, I said the same thing I always say when we’re late, “Okay, guys. I’m running late. I’ll slow down in front of the school & you guys just open the door & roll. Go on… Git. Love you!” We all have mornings like that. Mornings we’re running late, short on patience, barking at the kids to get their shoes on, put the book down, get in the car,  move, move, MOVE!

I did it this morning. So did countless other parents. Even parents in Newtown, CT. Perhaps even the parents of one of the 20 kids who didn’t make it home. We can never imagine what those parents are feeling tonight. But I wondered how I would feel having one of those mornings, then learning hours later that those were the last words I would ever say to my child.

We’re all holding our kids a little tighter right now, paying a little more attention to the details of their day, loving that they are safe & secure in their own homes, relieved to tears that we don’t have to know what those 20 sets of parents are feeling. For those of you who have said, “I don’t have to hold them tighter tonight. I cherish them every day” I respectfully call bullshit. We all lose our tempers. We all lose patience with our kids at times. We are human & we are stretched incredibly thin in our day-to-day lives. And when it happens, we vow to do better, to try to be more patient. Yet, as much as I may vow, I know my limits & I know there will still be days where I will be at my wit’s end trying to get out the door & I will bark, “Go on… Git! Love you!” And I will forgive myself for those times. Just as we all should. Just as those parents in Newtown should.

Will the Real Fat Man Please Stand Up.


The Boy, after standing at our town Santa Parade, waiting to see the final float that Santa rides on: “C’mon! Where is the fat man? I want to see the fat man!”

The Girl: “Mom said Dad wasn’t coming.”