I call it the library daze. Just saying the phrase evokes in my mind the summer heat on my skin, the tension in my legs as I skip or (these days walk) towards the blast of cool air coming from automatic doors, the reassuring smell of air conditioning and paper as I pass by the security scanners and make a beeline for the stack of 25 cent paperbacks. There is always the potential that something is there – maybe the book I have been waiting all of my life to read. The library has it’s myriad of possibilities as well, but something about the chaos and chance of the used bookshelf always appeals to me first. Then, after a good hour or so of browsing, I checkout. The hot air hits me as I walk out to the car, for a moment slightly more unbearable than I remember it an hour before. I distract myself by hefting my books closer to me, feeling their weight and unrealistically hoping that each one will be the book I that I enjoy the most. Home, and then next few days, hours, and minutes of leisure I have (usually dictated by whatever age I am at the time) are completely booked. In every sense of the word.Read More »
It just so happens that when your wonderful, beautiful, completely himself child is placed into your arms, everything in your life completely rearranges itself – including your brain. I cannot tell you how many times I’ve sat down to write up something amaaaazing coherent, only to find that I cannot remember my name, or what I was going to do next, or what I want to say. Then, through some trial and error, I remember what I was going to say, and then the next 5 minutes is taken up with searching for the words, only to find myself coming up empty handed. And of course, by then my little lion man is up, crying for mommy, and it is more than second nature now to gather him up into my arms and kiss the slope of his sweet nose, nuzzle the back of his head where his fluffy ginger hair always makes me smile, and talk to him in a voice so high my pre-baby self would mime gagging.