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Showing posts from June, 2008

So Long as Men Can Breathe

The air is so heavy with humidity that you can see it. The Boss calls it "sozzy," which is the word that comes out when she means foggy but can't quite remember the F and the double G. We were driving through a bucolic stretch of one of Connecticut's more sparsely populated areas on the way to swimming lessons. Green spread to gray underneath the haze. There was the wide swath of farmland to my left, then the treeline behind it, then the sheet of metal sky. It took my breath away and replaced it with wet heat. "This is so beautiful," I said out loud. "You're so beautiful, too," The Boss piped up from the backseat. " I'm so beautiful?" I startled slightly, the soft sentiment somehow sharp in my ears. "Yes, you are so beautiful," she assured me. "You are." I hadn't expected that. Me, in comparison to a summer's day. Not sweaty, fast and frazzled, but beautiful. My lips were buoyed by a slow grin as I lift

Bookstore Breakdown

We left Borders Books in a frenzy, the front desk sales associate leaping over the counter to push open the door for us. "Breakdown," he yelled to the customer just coming in through the other side of the entryway. "Hold the door!" The Boss was hanging in half over my arm, her face to her legs as she spewed snot and tears on her kneecaps. I clutched her discarded shoes with three fingers of one hand as I used the other hand to steer Number Two's bulky stroller through the exit. The Boss was bucking and screaming; Number Two was discordant in his seat in front of us as I pushed him into the doorjamb and then pulled back with a jerk. I'm not sure if I croaked out a "thank you" to the startled people holding the doors. When we crossed over into daylight, the sun barely registered with me. It should've been a thunderstorm as far as I was concerned. Maybe the crack-boom of static electricity would've drowned out the tantrum. I heaved a sigh and

More Than an American Footnote

So my name is a footnote in American legal history, which I'm perversely kind of proud of. I don't want to go around describing myself as a 'groundbreaker' or a 'difference-maker' because I'm not and I wasn't. But I contributed to people who were saying things that weren't supposed to be said. - George Carlin Last night I dreamed that the president was assassinated. When I woke up, it turned out George Carlin was the one who died. To me, there are few personalities as interesting and important as those found in the footnotes of American legal history as they pertain to the first amendment. Larry Flynt. Howard Stern. George Carlin. They're interesting (love 'em or hate 'em) because of the things they say. They are important because they said them. Each one made an indelible mark on freedom of speech by constantly pushing the envelope containing the letter of the law. If George Carlin's legacy was humor, it would've been enough. Bu

A Cold June in New England

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I am very much a product of my New England upbringing. That is to say, I'm cold--like a November pilgrim alone in her one-room shanty mushing corn into meal. I don't tend to enthuse much with strangers. I'm slightly more animated with acquaintances. It's only with good friends (and preferably a few glasses of wine) that I begin to act like I give a good goddamn about those around me--at which point it becomes clear I'm no puritan. When I was gestating my children, no stranger ever touched my stomach. I've heard many stories about such liberties being taken with pregnant women, but I never had to worry about it. Nobody whose name or face was unrecognizable to me would dare mention my condition, let alone feel around for it. It's like I wear a big sign flickering "UNAPPROACHABLE" in neon letters. I belong to a mom's group where many of the members are transplants. Some are from the midwest, some from the west, others from further north. They are

Realizing There's No Net

The thing about Number Two is that I know exactly how fleeting his infancy will be. I didn't have that awareness with The Boss. I guess I thought she'd be tiny forever. Certainly there was bliss in that ignorance, but what remains is a lack of memory for the details. The rub of it is this: now that I understand the quickness, I've become so preoccupied with it that I still cannot enjoy the moment, what with all my fear for the remembering. I feel pressure to record everything, but this "everything" is so expansive that I don't know where to begin. Sometimes I don't. I get caught up in trivialities that are less daunting. Volunteer projects. Playdates. Yesterday I filled out a page and a half of Number Two's baby book and considered the effort a success. But behind those everyday moments, my son still snuffles like a horse. He looks at everything with widening eyes that are, of course, turning hazel like his father's. His feet have outgrown all sock

Blue

I found out about San Diego Momma's PROMPTuesday via Slouching Mom . I've enjoyed reading SM's responses to the creative writing exercises and, this week, I'm jumping on the bandwagon. Go to SDM's site to read the prompt, and keep reading here to find my response. It's fiction. *** The sky is midnight blue. Light leaks through the house’s picture window and it is blue, too, but more frenetic and kind of dazzling. I stand on the sidewalk, directly opposite the curtained panes. Azure shadows flicker on the colorless palette of grass. I wonder what she is watching on TV. The trees have skeletal hands that bleed leaves. They are caught by the wind in cold eddies around my feet. The temperature doesn’t touch me as I imagine so much broken glass and its affect on the eerie color scheme pervading this late hour. Opening curtains, white light bathing pale skin, blue turning to black as Letterman deadpans onscreen. No, not tonight. It’s not real, me standing here now.

A Connoisseur is Born

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Evidently he prefers Sam Adams.

The Unveiling

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Welcome to the new and improved 24/7, courtesy of: Shannon was a pleasure to deal with. She whipped out the design and helped me install it to my Blogger account in the span of one day. The final product is her telepathic rendering of my vision. It had to be telepathy, because I'm pretty sure I didn't make any sense when I tried to put into words the look I was going for. But no matter. Shannon can read your mind over email. That's how good she is. But if you thought the new design is the only thing being unveiled today, you underestimated my desire to kill two birds with one title. Today, I lift the curtain on the New Guy's Name ! Before you make any assumptions about the winning name based on the fact that I created a poll and asked you all to vote in it, you have to know a couple things about me. One is that I don't generally go with the most popular choice in any given situation. The second is that I often disregard my gut instinct, only to return to it after a

Backseat Drivers

The Boss does not take kindly to it when Topher* shatters her "ignore him and he'll go away" mindset with his newborn wail. The scene most often unfolds in the car, where seatbelts, five point harnesses, and the fact that I am driving separate me indefinitely from the two prisoners in the backseat. The acceleration in my sporty little v-6 has nothing on The Boss, whose mental deterioration can go from 0-60 in five seconds whenever she hears him cry. "Mommy, he needs you! HE NEEDS YOU!" Her scream is a rain of spit as she joins in with him--all red-faced, wet and puffy--until their joint clamor builds to a crescendo that will one day either make me drive off the road or wish that I had. Either kid crying alone is tolerable to a hardened mother like myself, but the two of them together in hysterics is an invitation for me to let loose right along with them. I don't know what it is about Topher's baby yelps that tears his sister up. She won't acknowledg

On Yams and Strippers

In honor of the bachelor party The Partner is currently attending, I am re-posting a She Said/He Said written upon his return from a previous weekend of debauchery. It's two years old, but it is still relevant today. Frighteningly so. *** SHE SAID: My husband came home from the Vegas bachelor party determined to put up a strong front. We went to a Memorial Day party on Monday; he went to work and then to play pool on Tuesday; and it wasn't until Wednesday that he finally called in sick to the office. Or, more accurately, he emailed his employers that he would work from home "in between naps." I ran to the nearest Internet portal and looked up the incubation period for the ten most common STDs. HE SAID: My wife doesn't trust me worth a darn. She is still convinced I got some at my bachelor party. I probably should have. At least then, I'd have the bragging rights to go along with the blame. Believe it or not, a bachelor party can be fun without the swapping

Cast Your Vote - Name the New Guy

The blog lines are now open! Head over to my sidebar (below the fold) to cast your vote in the Name the New Guy contest. Thank you to everyone who submitted a name in Round One. The field has been whittled down to five finalists. Go vote now! Don't let your favorite business-world-inspired bloggy pseudonym go home. ___

The Boss Grows Into Her Role

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The Boss at 4 days old When I wasn't looking--maybe it was while I was busy transitioning Topher from womb to delivery room--The Boss turned solid and grew long legs. She's been a baby her whole life. That's only two years and ten months, but it's what I'm accustomed to. She started out small--a round repository of fat cells beneath pale skin--and grew so stealthily that I failed to notice when muscle moved in and her face colored with the blush of ideas. Until her brother came along in comparison, I couldn't see how much she'd grown. The other day, I was folding a mass of laundry that had been piling up in the wake of Topher's arrival and subsequent hospitalization . After stacking romper after romper, onesie after onesie, I pulled a pair of The Boss's pants from the bin. The jean material seemed voluminous. I looked at the tag. They were 2T, a size that I knew--conceptually, anyway--was actually a bit too small for her. Emotionally, I still didn&