If you're like me, born in the dark ages of unflavored medicines, you've probably repressed memories of your mother holding you down, shoving some vile antibiotic down your throat while you screamed and spit, only to get another mouthful and a good tongue lashing from your parents. And if you're more like me, you will probably never, EVER be able to hold down anything with the misleading description "cherry flavored."
Sorry to dredge up these deeply buried visions. But I do have a point here.
Continue reading "Just a Spoonful of Sugar..." »
Several months ago, my husband told me he was jealous of the bond I had with our son. I couldn't deny it; my son just responded better with me. It's not that my husband was doing anything particularly wrong, but I was home more with the boy and had learned what made him smile, what comforted him, knew when he was ready for another nap, etc.
Continue reading "The Green-Eyed Mother" »
This past Sunday, my brother, an Army Reservist, left for Afghanistan. He will be gone 400 days, so won't be back until mid-February of 2010. The Army held a send-off for his unit at the unholy hour of 4 a.m., so I, along with my parents and sister, managed to get my sleepy behind out of bed to see him off. The first formation was at 4:30 a.m., the second at 5:15 a.m. This gave the men and women some time to say their final goodbyes and hugs to their families.
Continue reading "Life During Wartime" »
