Showing posts from 2014

The Naughty List

The Soundtrack to the movie Annie was sitting on the table beside me. It was staring at me like it was the last cookie in the jar. So naturally I reached for it.  

"No, no," my older sister Kari said while she pushed the cassette closer to the tape player, "Not for you." 

Not for me? Nothing was ever for me.  I wasn't even allowed to drink out of my bottle anymore. EVER. I had resorted to taking tiny sips from my cousin's when he wasn't looking. I had been stealing chugs out of Chris' bottle for close to a year. Apple juice just didn't taste the same out of a cup.

I swear I can still hear my Aunt say to my Mother, "Well at least he drank his juice," when Chris hadn't eaten all of his dinner.  I always thought I should have chimed in, but then they would have known what I had been doing. And even would have to stop. Maybe it tasted better coming out of the bottle or maybe it was knowing that it was wrong to drink from it t…

A Letter to the MAs

Sometimes Momma is forgetful,
Sometimes she just doesn't get that my needs, in my opinion, are monumental.
Has that ever happened to you?
Has she ever dressed you in something pink when you just wanted it to be blue?
Or how about glamming me up with hair pieces and lace?
Doesn't she see the disgust on my face?
Sometimes I like to sit in my own pee,
Once I wiggle away I think —"you'll never catch me!"

There's another thing that I can't stand,
It's when she tries to wipe my nose with that tissue in her hand.
"Ouch," I think and "No," I say,
But that tissue just will not be put away.
I get it, you love me and want for me what is best,
But, boy it feels good to get this all off my chest!

Momma and Grandma are quite a pair,
They hustle, they feed me and insist that I share.
Still if you ask me, they are both rather silly,
I don't understand why two women would dote on a baby and dress me so frilly.
You would think I was some stuffed…

Pink Balloon

I bought you a balloon today.
I blew it up, tied a string, but it flew away.

It sailed over parks and jumped over bridges.
All the while dodging a few unsuspecting pigeons.

It swayed and whirled through winds so great.
It was no wonder it did not have a cape.

The faster I ran the further away it got.
For over mountains, valleys and oceans it appeared to hop.

It danced under the sun, while its pink surface glistened.
I swear I could hear your laughter if I closed my eyes real tight and listened.

Before I could grab it, before I knew,
The balloon had made it's way up, up, up, and was headed straight to you.

No more hesitation, no more delays.
This balloon was serving it's purpose,
And was happily on its way.

Happy birthday to You,
Happy birthday sweet Mother,
My best friend, my confident, there will never be another.

When that balloon gets to you make sure to send it back.
From earth heaven isn't too far off track.

Send it back for birthdays, holidays and special occasions w…

In the Name of the Daughter

Sister Grace cocked back her right arm and pelted the grape straight back at the class. She was like Mariano Rivera putting away the side in the bottom of the ninth. There was a frenzy in her eyes and she wasn't quite finished. She picked up another grape that was lying beside her right foot and launched it so fast at Sylvester that it splattered on the front of his school uniform.

"Owwch," was his reaction. 

He returned her vigor with an equally calculated throw back at her. BAM, it hit her square in the forehead, causing the whole class to gasp.

It did not splatter. It did not stick to her head. It bounced off like a tennis ball would from a racket. The height and bounce really was impressive.  Sister Grace charged Sylvester like a bull charging a matador's red cape, with her head down and nostrils flaring. Her habit flapped behind her as she reached and grabbed his elbow in one swoop and marched him out of the room in the next. Instinctively the whole class got u…

Tiny Dancer

I turned to face the far wall of the dance studio, adjusted my grip on the ballet barre and assumed fourth position. 

"PliƩ. And. Up." Mrs. Sullivan instructed.

I loved facing that wall because the previous year's recital pictures were displayed there. I marveled at the older girls' costumes and would fancy being "on toe" in my ballet shoes or in high heel tap or jazz shoes just like them. There was a grace that the older girls carried that I could only hope to obtain as I continued to grow in the school.

When Mrs. Sullivan prompted us to begin our grand battements (a.k.a barbie kicks) I felt a sudden sharp pain in my stomach that was quickly followed by a hint of nausea. It would pass I thought to myself. I looked out into the crowd of parents and caught my Mother's eyes. She smiled attentively and gave me a little wink. It was parent observation day at dance class and like most eight-year-old wanna-be-ballerinas, I couldn't wait for my Mommy to …

Club Barbie

I looked in the mirror and saw a girl who should have been swinging from a pole. The tube top I had on stopped about two inches above my newly pierced navel and the skirt I borrowed was so tight and fitted to my body that it looked like it had been painted on. The smell of pot and cigarettes filled my dorm room and I was already two vodka drinks into one of the worst hangovers I would ever experience.

"See, my clothes fit you perfectly, right?" said my very perky, wide-eyed roommate. "We just need to give you a hint of green to bring out your eyes."
She grabbed the mirror on my desk, "Hold this," she ordered. She then proceeded to grab a baggy from her top drawer and shake powder out over the mirror. Before I knew it, she had blown a line of coke, poured more onto to the mirror and handed me the small straw. Welcome to my first night at college.....
"All you, girl," she said wiping her nose.
"I'm good," was all I could get out.

Voyage to Maternite'

I pushed the call button and heard a voice, "How can I help you?"

Was I hallucinating or did someone just come over a loud speaker in my hospital room?

"Hello? Do you need something?" Asked the voice.

"Oh, um, can someone please come in?" I responded.

"What do you need?"

Apparently the hospital thought they were running a hotel.

"Um, I need ice. For my er..." Given the fact that I had delivered Madison the previous night I would think they could fill in the blanks.

I carefully shifted onto my left side to gaze at my sleeping beauty.  My eyes traced the baby's pink, blue and white hat down to her button nose and then surveyed her perfectly lined lips.  You couldn't pay for lip liner that fabulous.

A little sneeze escaped her mouth waking her up just enough to let out a cry. I attempted to sit straight up so I could scoop her from her little throne. Ouch. I tried to sit up to my right. Ow. Then to the left. Ah.  Every which way …

The Skinny on the Fat

I was pouring out of my training bra in fourth grade. My breasts didn’t need to be trained, they needed to be tamed. Every other girl was looking for toilet tissue to put in her shirt. I was searching for duct tape. My two budding friends were growing at an exceptionally fast rate and to top it off my other friend Flow decided to start her monthly visits early. So there I was a very fertile 10-year-old with the beginnings of perky boobs. Before you go all pedophile on me, you should know that I was a chubby kid. I held onto my baby fat until ninth grade and in my opinion there was nothing pinch-my-cheeks-cute about it. I figure however that between everyone's glasses, braces and uni brows I fit right in during middle school. 

Then there was high school. An all girls catholic high school. Survival of the thinnest on steroids. Laxatives, diet pills and skipping meals were common prom and semi-formal prep. Ah youth— if I wanted to lose four pounds in one week it would happen in the sn…

Perfect Imperfections