washwords

The Mommy-track post, or as Maggie Dammit would say, the post in which I lose several readers (in a fiery rage? she didn’t say that part). Anywho, back to my point, which was… am I evil for resenting a “New Parent Community of Practice” recently (heh) spawned at work? Don’t answer yet. Let me explain.

I. Let’s say one works at a federal government agency. Let’s say said anonymous Place of Employment offers flextime, telecommuting, maternity leave, paternity leave, on-site (good) day care, part-time schedules, family-friendly sick leave, use of sick leave and annual leave towards extended maternity/paternity leave, etc.

Photo by N. Farnsworth as printed on Flickr.

II. Let’s further say Place of Employment is a place where work is analytical and done in teams in a Read the rest of this entry »

I haven’t been writing as much lately. Yes, I’ve been busy with work and work and work. Yes, I’ve been trying to learn about some other facets of the internet to grow my blog and make it better, perhaps even profitable.

But also, I’ve been blue. Deep, beautiful, aquamarine blue, in my core. Read the rest of this entry »

I hold my niece against my chest, tight. She laughs – her eyes sparkling with her laugh. She shrieks with glee rolling over my leg, my arm, my fingers on my sister’s soft bed. “Hava” says E, my niece.

“Ba” I say.

“Ma ma mama ba, hava?”

“ka la” I answer.

She giggles, throwing her head back, pleased with the answer. She pulls herself up on the footboard pointing excitedly at the window “DA! BA!!!”

“Yes! Window! Sun!” I say, wanting desperately to know what she is trying to tell me. She seems to forgive my ignorance, choosing to plunk herself back on the bed and laugh and laugh and laugh. And then, she scrunches up in a ball, butt up in the air, closing her eyes, murmuring, giggling, singing, “hava? bama?”

I scoop her up, put her in her soft onesie p.j, sing her a song, rub her tummy, while she slurps down her milk and coos. I cover her in her pink knit blanket. i tell her I love her, more than anything, in the whole wide world, kiss her cheek, and tiptoe out.

I am not home. But I am home.