Today is going to be a good day.
When I started writing this blog I had no idea the blog’s name — mourning dove motherhood–would take on so… Read more I just don’t like your uterus
I thought I had writer’s block. For three months (almost) I despaired that the writing gods had gone away and it was officially over. No more. All hope was lost.
What I did not see (or more accurately, did not want to see) was that I was avoiding my truth.
2016 WENT LOW BUT WE WILL GO HIGH! Yesterday I started a list lessons from the little bastard teacher that was… Read more A list of 20 things I am grateful for from the hell that was 2016
I am supposed to be working. And if I am not working, I should at least be finishing the job… Read more Self-Control
Can I hug you all? Seriously, consider these words a virtual hug traveling from WordPress to your computer or smartphone… Read more Thank You for Sitting on My Bench
Flashback to 1983. My parents are watching Dallas in the basement with their friends. I’m at the top of the stairs, trying not to squeak the steps, hunched in a nightgown with my knees pulled tight. Of course my mom sees me and yep, she is upset. Despite her frustration she lets me sit on the floor and join them in watching the number one show of 1983.
My mom had to do this a lot–put up with a kid who was awake until all hours of the night. Usually it was just the two of us. She’d let me watch Love Boat on the tiny black and white TV in our kitchen while she made popcorn. Initially she would be exasperated (Of COURSE she was, adult Sarah gets it now!) but she always softened and lovingly let me join her in her late night routine.
Let me write it out right here in case my prayers haven’t reached my mother: MOM I AM SO SORRY FOR WHAT I PUT YOU THROUGH. MOM HOW DID YOU DO IT. MOM YOU POOR WOMAN YOU NEVER. GOT. A. BREAK!
Why the sudden mea culpas? [Read More]
“I am called to listen to the sound of my own heart—to write the story within myself that demands to… Read more I am called to listen to the sound of my own heart
So about all those posts this week…about the kid. The coffee. The coffee again. And again. I’ve Just had a… Read more And the universe laughed!
I thought I was through the worst of the “threenager” behaviors with my daughter. I was wrong. My sweet, almost-four-year-old… Read more Meet it with love