Released

This story has a happy ending. (I promise.) A text message: Surely, a 10 x 12 door open to the waning sunshine will be enough to get the bird out before long. Is fifteen minutes long enough? Another text: Apparently having a hummingbird trapped in your garage is a common enough thing that YouTube videos…

Rapid Fire

Upon reading Amanda Potts’ post, “It’s Not About Me,” I was reminded of the rapid fire questions that Brene Brown asks at the end of each of her podcasts. I thought it might be fun to imagine myself being interviewed by her based on the questions she asked in her most recent Dare to Lead…

When I Get Aux

That is the name of her behind-the-wheel playlist. It used to be she’d sing along to whatever I had playing from Faith Hill’s “Fireflies” to Taylor Swift’s “Love Story.” Sure there were days that Old MacDonald and Elmo’s World were mixed in. Then she introduced me to Fall Out Boy and Panic at the Disco….

Door to Door

In just 120 seconds, I can make it from the clicking close of one door to the unlatched unleashing of the other. Behind one, my girl, home from a Spring Break overnight, enjoying her own Spotify playlist behind yet another door. Beyond the other, my guy, working on a Saturday so that he can get…

I Got Nothing, Part II

“Ooh, who is this?” she asks from the driver’s seat. She knows better than to glance away from the road to check the screen though she’s seen me do it a thousand times. I catch a glimpse at the display, but push the side button out of habit. Nothing. Black screen. Music still plays through…

Triggered

I lifted my shirt to reveal the dozen or so bee sting sized pokes along the right side of my stomach. I pulled a Sharpie out of the junk drawer in the kitchen and drew a line diagonal along the top of my hip. I noticed that I am starting to bruise. Before that, I…

Your Mom

I am five minutes away when I get her call: “Hey, the game just got over. Where will you pick us up?” “Okay, ummm. Google says I’m five minutes away.” I am not sure why it sounds like our drop-off spot at the Coliseum might be unfit for the pick-up. “I guess the same place…

Sixth Gear

This has a sixth gear? Flashback six months. We pull into her preschool parking lot. I don’t get it. It lurches. It dies. I hate this. It lurches. It dies. Can we practice? It lurches less. It dies a little less. When can I drive home? Not yet. Soon? I’m not sure. We cruise around…

Takes Me Back

“When your kids were little, did you ever bend down to pick them up and they jumped and came up under your chin?” “Yes!” she said with a chuckle. “It was like that.” My mind flashed back to the day at Venice Beach where my then little one had jumped, knocking my teeth together, and…

Ready. Set. Go.

Start by burning dinner. Wait? What? Start with what? Are you sure? Hmmm. Let me think… No, I think let’s end with that. What? End with that? Well then where do we start? At the beginning: For the first time in a week, I wasn’t up at 4:30. I swore that if I was, I…