I keep trying to go to bed early - like, 9:30 or 10pm. My goal this week was to back off the late nights because it was making me crabby and I was waking up exhausted. Ahhhhhhhhhh precious sleep. But it's more of a challenge than I thought. Because even though we get the kids … Continue reading I Keep Trying to Go to Bed Early
I've been thinking about writing a book of dark poetry for kids. You know, like Tim Burton for poetry and maybe a little more sadistic. What do you think? Good idea? Bad idea? It would probably be too creepy for parents to buy. But I know the kids would love it! If I could chop … Continue reading Chop Off My Head
Every once in a while I'm reminded that At some point I'm going to have to Come to grips With the fact That I'm a horrible parent My kids will be fucked up They will both need therapy And they will hate me someday Because I can't stop Sucking At parenting And ruining my … Continue reading Horrible Parent
My dad: "I'm getting ready for your visit; what do the kids like to eat?" Me: "Anything that doesn't happen to be in the house when they're hungry."
The dust kicked up from beneath her worn sandals, the grinding sound only growing louder as the heavy steel boots behind her closed in. Stay focused. Straight ahead. The darkness was closing in, the great shadow that threatened to eat her just out of reach. Ahead, the cliff threatened. Behind, death. She picked up speed, … Continue reading Writers Should Never, Ever, Ever, Ever, Ever, Ever, Ever Have Kids
The sarcasm is strong with one, folks. You have been warned. God. Fucking. Christ. Sometimes it doesn't seem like things can get any better. And by better, I mean really, really fucking awful. Let's start with the yard. Oh dear Lord, the yard. People, if you ever buy a house brand new off the shelf, … Continue reading How’s That for a Shit Week?
Sitting on the back porch, trying to catch a breather from the piles of work I have to complete, the impending deadlines screaming as loud as the high-pitched voices of my two children. My daughter rides down the street adjacent to our backyard, mumbling a story to herself, so enwrapped in her pretend characters that … Continue reading My Someday
Having kids is like injecting yourself with an 18 year strain of mono.
I wrote this poem for my friend who lost her little toddler boy a few years ago to cancer. I wanted to send it to her for the anniversary, but I chickened out. I'm afraid it's too depressing, that it might make things worse. It's already a hard enough day, seems like too big a … Continue reading When the Worst Happens
Gotta love the self-actualization that comes when you're at a Parent-Teacher Conference and your child's teacher is discussing how her schoolwork is excellent, but she has a tendency to lose focus, misplace her things, and let her mind wander too much during class... ...and then you have to ask her to repeat all that because … Continue reading A Self-Actualizing Shit Storm