Sugar and Spice

Certainly if the judges were out this weekend, after the failed parenting experiment that it was, I would be have been eliminated from any possiblity of Mother of the Year. With Hubby out of town and my parents headed to New Orleans to meet up with family and friends for JazzFest, I had a choice - stay home alone all weekend with the two girls or load them up and head them out to NOLA.  It wasn't really much of a choice - we were road-tripping it!  I talked myself into by reminding myself that Pumpkin is very musical, loves live music and loves to dance.  She also loves hotels.  Bug, on the other hand, is just as laid back as a Sunday morning, so there was really no reason NOT to go.  Right? The car ride there was fabulous - no major meltdowns, mostly naps, and we made half-decent time despite three pit stops in as many hours.  The hotel room was big enough that we weren't going to suffocate (which is a big PLUS in NOLA) and the weather seemed like it was going to hold ou

As my last post may have hinted at, I've been feeling very existential about motherhood. I feel very much that being a mother is the most complicated, intense, profound and deeply rewarding experience I have ever had.  From the moment that you feel the first flutter, there truly are no words to describe the constant roller coaster of overwhelming emotion.  This is ironic since I am writing a blog about motherhood that I am always finding myself at a loss for a word big enough or powerful enough to truly capture my emotion. I am now a part of a long line of mothers near and far, old and young, who want the same exact thing for their children that I want for mine. I want their basic needs met.  I want them to experience joy, love, success, pride, and peace.  I never want them to want.  I never want them to hurt.  In whatever language, on whatever continent, we are all mothers.  We are connected by our love.  We hurt for each other though we have never met.  We long for a better

There are no words. I have nothing profound or eloquent to say. A child was among the victims. What kind of world are we living in? I don't want my children to know this fear that is choking me. I used to ache for the mothers in those other places who were afraid their children would be shot when they walked outside... Those mothers who worried about roadside bombs... But that was their concern, those countries were over there.  Far away. I once only ached for them.  Now I am one of them. Bug was up sick last night.  Two long hours.  I held her the entire time. I let Pumpkin fall asleep in  my bed.  I missed her as soon as her eyes closed. I finally laid my own tear-stained cheeks on my pillow and frantically whispered fervent prayers into the cold dark night. Waking, I hoped it was all a bad dream. It wasn't. But neither was the beauty in those little girls' eyes as they peered over their warm comforters this morning;  Neither was the slow