My father is one of the reasons I chose to have a child. Not to honor him or continue my lineage, but to fix the parts that he broke.  Too many of my memories are of a childhood and family irreparably damaged, achingly sad, or completely dysfunctional. I wanted to replace these memories with positive ones of my own creation, and to experience through my child’s eyes the childhood I didn’t have. Sure, it’s terribly selfish and probably more than a little misguided. But people have had children for far worse and far fewer reasons.  For example, take the playground. My father rarely played with us in the yard. There was no kicking soccer balls, throwing baseballs, no balls of any kind really. We grew up food-stamps-poor, so there were rarely any trips to local museums or science centers or cultural events. But we did have Sunday Family Day sometimes when I was little, where the four of us would pile in my father’s shit brown Ford mini pick-up truck and go somewhere l...

Many years ago I read or heard the line, “We were like strangers who knew each other very well.” I have more or less adopted this quote as a description of the relationship between my father and me. More than strangers but less than estranged, we talk on the phone a few times a year but we stick to surface streets. He thinks I am closed off and private; I know where his post office box is located but don’t know where he sleeps at night. He lives 1,200 miles away, so at least I am spared the awkward side-hugs and desperate attempts at normal conversation. My mother is dead and my brother has ceased contact, so he clings to me like his last hope at family.  That about sums it up. Father’s Days are tough. There just aren’t any greeting cards that accurately reflect our relationship. So a few years ago I decided Hallmark or American Greetings needed to get on this. Along with a friend, I came up with several gems I was going to pitch to them. The best one was: (front) When...

I have a great husband who knows my limits, and one of those limits is how much time I can spend around other people – including my precious child – before I start to slowly go mad. An introvert at heart, I require a decent amount of down time alone each day so I can recover from the hours I spend being pulled at, whined to, and drooled on. My need for breaks is naturally at odds with my husband’s need to, you know, go to work and earn money so he can support our family. He works an odd schedule, so I am fortunate that he has more time than most husbands to entertain and bond with the kiddo, which allows me some time off. Unfortunately, he travels sometimes – leaving me alone with a toddler for days at a time. Like I said, he knows my limits, and he almost always arranges with his parents for the kiddo to spend the night at least once while my husband is gone. This way he doesn’t come home to an irritable wife who’s likely to sigh loudly and slam doors and yell at the dogs. Or...

One of the dogs peed in the dining room. I don’t know which one, and neither is talking. It left a sprinkle of yellow spots that I got out with Resolve Pet Stain carpet cleaner. As a result, though, the carpet is lighter where it’s been cleaned. Which means either the carpet cleaner is killer, or I’m a crappy housekeeper. One of those.  Then I chased down the kiddo, who is suffering from spring allergies, to give him some Benadryl. Which he spit out on the dining room carpet, leaving a pink blob somewhat near the now-light-tan spots. I reached for the closest napkin to wipe up the pink, which happened to be one of the variety which has a decorative border of blue and green squares on it. One of these squares, naturally, transferred to the carpet as a green spot.  My dining room is a multi-colored rainbow. It’s pink and tan and blue and yellow. You know, for spring.