Today is the A to Z Challenge's scheduled day off. I'll be back tomorrow with the letter N.
I'd like to welcome those who are new to my blog. Thanks for following! When I'm not taking part in the challenge, I usually post 100-word entries describing my observations about things like motherhood, writing, and life. So without further ado, I bring you this morning's 100 words:
When I ask my kids to name their favorite colors, my five-year-old son will usually say blue or green. My two-year-old daughter, on the other hand, will start by saying pink but then change her answer to "I love all the colors of the rainbow!" before she dances and twirls out of the room, arms raised high, a wide smile spread across her face. Sometimes she stops, skips back to where I'm standing, and loudly sing-songs the colors: red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo, and violet. Good old Roy G. Biv. I remember him well.
Remember Roy? He's my old friend. I probably wouldn't be able to recall the colors of the rainbow without him. :)
Showing posts with label 100 words. Show all posts
Showing posts with label 100 words. Show all posts
Sunday, April 15, 2012
Sunday, April 8, 2012
The wool blanket
Today's 100 words:
Morning finds me on the other side of quiet. It's not the face of dawn that greets me; no sun breaks through windows to light the grayness of the room. Instead it's the black silence of midnight, that harbinger of a new day, who beckons me closer while I fight the weariness that presses upon me like the crush of a heavy wool blanket. The old man had carried such a blanket with him as he sought those things we all seek. It covered him like stars at night, something familiar to keep out the cold from outside--and within.
Morning finds me on the other side of quiet. It's not the face of dawn that greets me; no sun breaks through windows to light the grayness of the room. Instead it's the black silence of midnight, that harbinger of a new day, who beckons me closer while I fight the weariness that presses upon me like the crush of a heavy wool blanket. The old man had carried such a blanket with him as he sought those things we all seek. It covered him like stars at night, something familiar to keep out the cold from outside--and within.
Saturday, April 7, 2012
G is for Grace
Grace is a beautiful word, both in its sound and in its meanings. It can describe fluidity and charm--She skated gracefully across the ice--as well as kindness and pardon--He was saved by the governor's act of grace. It can also describe ummerited mercy and forgiveness, which I think is its most powerful definition, especially when I think of the word in terms of Easter. It's not always easy to extend grace to others, especially when I feel they don't deserve it, but it's one of the most important concepts I can teach my children.
I hope you all have a wonderful Easter!
I hope you all have a wonderful Easter!
Tuesday, April 3, 2012
So sentimental
Today's 100 words:
My friend texted me today to let me know that she'd like to return the baby clothes I gave her last week, as she could tell I had a difficult time parting with them. She's right: I am very sentimental about things that belong to my children. Another friend had advised me to treat the whole situation as though I were ripping off a Band-Aid--just do it and get it over with--and I really tried to do that as I handed over the bag of clothes. I guess my emotions were still pretty clear, though.
I texted her back, asking her to keep them and letting her know that I've slowly been going through my other clothes bins, looking for more things her son can wear. It's hard--a piece of clothing can hold so many memories--but I know that I can't keep everything, and really, it's the memories themselves that count.
My friend texted me today to let me know that she'd like to return the baby clothes I gave her last week, as she could tell I had a difficult time parting with them. She's right: I am very sentimental about things that belong to my children. Another friend had advised me to treat the whole situation as though I were ripping off a Band-Aid--just do it and get it over with--and I really tried to do that as I handed over the bag of clothes. I guess my emotions were still pretty clear, though.
I texted her back, asking her to keep them and letting her know that I've slowly been going through my other clothes bins, looking for more things her son can wear. It's hard--a piece of clothing can hold so many memories--but I know that I can't keep everything, and really, it's the memories themselves that count.
Monday, April 2, 2012
B is for Books
I love to read. When my sister and I were kids, we would stay at our grandma's house in town for a few days in the summer, and we'd always walk to the library, then carry home stacks and stacks of books, which we'd devour in no time and then crave more. I still read like that, which is probably why I don't get as much sleep as I should. Every year I set a reading goal. Last year's goal was 104 books, and I read 108. This year I've set the bar at 110. I'm reading number 27 now.
Sunday, April 1, 2012
A is for Art
Since I wrote yesterday's post, I've been giving a lot of thought to the theme I'd like to explore during this year's Blogging from A to Z Challenge. This morning I finally chose one: A Few of My Favorite Things. I decided on this theme because one of my interests is family history, and in the family history memoir I'm currently working on, I've been striving to include not only the big elements that make up a person's life but the small details as well. I want to know what kind of people my ancestors were, not just what job they did or who they married. Did they love peanut butter and eat it three times a day? I want to know that. Did they always buy red cars? Tell me why. These are the kinds of details I seek, these everyday anecdotes that give a true impression of a person's life.
Similarly, during this year's blogging challenge--my first ever!--I want to preserve some of the details of my own life for my children. They know me as Mommy, but I'm a lot more than that. Do they know my favorite number and the story behind it? Do they know I'm claustrophobic? There's a story there, too. Each day of this challenge, I'll share a little about myself so that my two-year-old and five-year-old children can someday read these entries and learn a little bit more about who Mommy really is.
Most of my entries will be written in 100 words, which is the style I've adopted for The Daily Dose. My hope as I begin this challenge is that readers will find something in these words that they can relate to and enjoy.
So without further ado:
A is for Art:
I'm intrigued by the way Monet and other impressionist artists like Renoir and Bazille used angles and light to show common, everyday objects in new ways. Their creativity inspires me, though I am a writer and not a painter (although I often wish I were). In fact, I think there is much to learn from all creative people, and I find it fascinating how artists of any medium can take an emotion--fear, for example, or anger--and express it in so many different ways: through paintings, poetry, sculpture, photography... Art--no matter the type--is born in the soul.
Similarly, during this year's blogging challenge--my first ever!--I want to preserve some of the details of my own life for my children. They know me as Mommy, but I'm a lot more than that. Do they know my favorite number and the story behind it? Do they know I'm claustrophobic? There's a story there, too. Each day of this challenge, I'll share a little about myself so that my two-year-old and five-year-old children can someday read these entries and learn a little bit more about who Mommy really is.
Most of my entries will be written in 100 words, which is the style I've adopted for The Daily Dose. My hope as I begin this challenge is that readers will find something in these words that they can relate to and enjoy.
So without further ado:
A is for Art:
I'm intrigued by the way Monet and other impressionist artists like Renoir and Bazille used angles and light to show common, everyday objects in new ways. Their creativity inspires me, though I am a writer and not a painter (although I often wish I were). In fact, I think there is much to learn from all creative people, and I find it fascinating how artists of any medium can take an emotion--fear, for example, or anger--and express it in so many different ways: through paintings, poetry, sculpture, photography... Art--no matter the type--is born in the soul.
Saturday, March 31, 2012
The push and pull
Today's 100 words:
I stayed up too late reading again last night. I never mean to--I know how deeply tired I am and how much my body and mind crave rest since my first child was born five years ago. Before, I used to drink coffee in the mornings because I liked the taste. Now I drink it because I need it to push me closer to awake. Still, as anyone who reads knows, it's hard to put a good book down--no matter the time, no matter how tired, no matter the push/pull of reading love and need for sleep.
I stayed up too late reading again last night. I never mean to--I know how deeply tired I am and how much my body and mind crave rest since my first child was born five years ago. Before, I used to drink coffee in the mornings because I liked the taste. Now I drink it because I need it to push me closer to awake. Still, as anyone who reads knows, it's hard to put a good book down--no matter the time, no matter how tired, no matter the push/pull of reading love and need for sleep.
Friday, March 30, 2012
I may never understand
Today's 100 words:
I listened to the song again last night--Evanescence's My Immortal. You said it reminded me of you, back when our lives were breaking apart, back when nothing seemed certain for us anymore: the present, the future. Even our past felt like it somehow didn't exist--or maybe it was that it no longer seemed like time we had shared. Whenever I listen to this song, the one you say describes how you were feeling when it all came crashing down, I never completely understand. We wouldn't have been in that place if it hadn't been for you.
I listened to the song again last night--Evanescence's My Immortal. You said it reminded me of you, back when our lives were breaking apart, back when nothing seemed certain for us anymore: the present, the future. Even our past felt like it somehow didn't exist--or maybe it was that it no longer seemed like time we had shared. Whenever I listen to this song, the one you say describes how you were feeling when it all came crashing down, I never completely understand. We wouldn't have been in that place if it hadn't been for you.
Thursday, March 29, 2012
I can't help it--I'm weak!
Today's 100 words:
This week I've gotten into the bad (calorie-wise, anyway) habit of allowing myself to walk near the avocados in the grocery store. They're like a magnet to me, and although I've been able to resist in the past with a turn of my head and a mental admonition--Calories!--this week I've been, well...weak. I could eat avocados every day; I'll be in real trouble if we ever move to California or Florida or anywhere else they're even more easily accessible. I have one waiting for me right now, and after I write these words, I'll heed her siren call.
This week I've gotten into the bad (calorie-wise, anyway) habit of allowing myself to walk near the avocados in the grocery store. They're like a magnet to me, and although I've been able to resist in the past with a turn of my head and a mental admonition--Calories!--this week I've been, well...weak. I could eat avocados every day; I'll be in real trouble if we ever move to California or Florida or anywhere else they're even more easily accessible. I have one waiting for me right now, and after I write these words, I'll heed her siren call.
Wednesday, March 28, 2012
Sentimental value
Today's 100 words:
I need to do something scary today. I don't want to do it; I don't want to subject myself to the flood of emotion sure to hit as I open the door to the crawl space, but it's time to sort through my five-year-old son's baby clothes and pass some along to my friend's new baby. I want to help my friend--there's no question about that--but it's hard for me to give away my child's possessions. The idea of not owning them anymore breaks my heart. I keep trying to remind myself that they're just things.
I need to do something scary today. I don't want to do it; I don't want to subject myself to the flood of emotion sure to hit as I open the door to the crawl space, but it's time to sort through my five-year-old son's baby clothes and pass some along to my friend's new baby. I want to help my friend--there's no question about that--but it's hard for me to give away my child's possessions. The idea of not owning them anymore breaks my heart. I keep trying to remind myself that they're just things.
Tuesday, March 27, 2012
Clutter: My Nemesis
Today's 100 words:
I have too much stuff. I've known this for years, of course, but I didn't really see it until last night, when I walked into our bedroom and forced myself to take a look at the clutter that covers all surfaces: the floor, the tops of the dressers, the bookshelf... Sadly, most of our other rooms are the same--except, of course, for the ones I keep as uncluttered as possible for company. I wouldn't call myself a hoarder, but I do attach sentimental value to some things. Guess it's time to put emotions aside and start tossing things out.
(Easier said than done.)
I have too much stuff. I've known this for years, of course, but I didn't really see it until last night, when I walked into our bedroom and forced myself to take a look at the clutter that covers all surfaces: the floor, the tops of the dressers, the bookshelf... Sadly, most of our other rooms are the same--except, of course, for the ones I keep as uncluttered as possible for company. I wouldn't call myself a hoarder, but I do attach sentimental value to some things. Guess it's time to put emotions aside and start tossing things out.
(Easier said than done.)
Monday, March 26, 2012
Fearing the unknown
Today's 100 words:
When I moved to Nebraska, I was terrified of tornadoes. I'd never experienced them in Northern Michigan and was afraid I was putting myself in prime tornado territory. I guess we always fear the unknown. As it turned out, in the six years I lived there, I experienced only two tornado warnings, and no tornadoes ever touched down. But the fact is that the unknown is frightening. I fear a lot of things, I think, because they're out of what I consider my normal. I get that nervous feeling in my stomach--the same feeling I woke up with today.
When I moved to Nebraska, I was terrified of tornadoes. I'd never experienced them in Northern Michigan and was afraid I was putting myself in prime tornado territory. I guess we always fear the unknown. As it turned out, in the six years I lived there, I experienced only two tornado warnings, and no tornadoes ever touched down. But the fact is that the unknown is frightening. I fear a lot of things, I think, because they're out of what I consider my normal. I get that nervous feeling in my stomach--the same feeling I woke up with today.
Sunday, March 25, 2012
Still miserable
Today's 100 words:
It's been a week, and my ear still feels congested, in spite of the Amoxicillin the Urgent Care doctor prescribed. I've tried so many things--the antibiotic, Sudafed, tons of water, ibuprofen, cough drops, warm compresses, home remedies I found online--but none of them has provided relief for more than a moment. I feel like all I've done for the past week is whine like a child might, but I've never experienced anything like this before. I'm going to call my primary care physician tomorrow. Hopefully, she'll given me stronger medication or a referral to someone who can help.
It's been a week, and my ear still feels congested, in spite of the Amoxicillin the Urgent Care doctor prescribed. I've tried so many things--the antibiotic, Sudafed, tons of water, ibuprofen, cough drops, warm compresses, home remedies I found online--but none of them has provided relief for more than a moment. I feel like all I've done for the past week is whine like a child might, but I've never experienced anything like this before. I'm going to call my primary care physician tomorrow. Hopefully, she'll given me stronger medication or a referral to someone who can help.
Saturday, March 24, 2012
Chatter and song
Today's 100 words:
The birds must be holding some kind of caucus this morning. Their chatter is loud and insistent, and I love to imagine that they're hosting a public forum or city council meeting and discussing important things: no fly zones, the empty nest law, speeding, flying without a license, the dangers of drunken flying... As a teenager, I can remember being so annoyed by the birds: How dare they interrupt my sleep! Now, though, well out of my teens, I can appreciate them for their beauty and their song. And I can imagine that maybe sometimes they sing just for me.
The birds must be holding some kind of caucus this morning. Their chatter is loud and insistent, and I love to imagine that they're hosting a public forum or city council meeting and discussing important things: no fly zones, the empty nest law, speeding, flying without a license, the dangers of drunken flying... As a teenager, I can remember being so annoyed by the birds: How dare they interrupt my sleep! Now, though, well out of my teens, I can appreciate them for their beauty and their song. And I can imagine that maybe sometimes they sing just for me.
Friday, March 23, 2012
The fog
Today's 100 words:
She journeyed to the healer, fell upon her knees, begged for help, a cure, an end to the fog that blurred the edges of her world, that made her feel as though all sounds--hellos, good-byes, a child's cries--were coming to her through a wall of denseness, and even the sound of her own voice echoed through her head, loud and brash, until a whisper seemed like thunder or the blast of the trumpet carried by that band member as he marched down the street-left, right, left--past her closed window and closed drapes and closed ears.
She journeyed to the healer, fell upon her knees, begged for help, a cure, an end to the fog that blurred the edges of her world, that made her feel as though all sounds--hellos, good-byes, a child's cries--were coming to her through a wall of denseness, and even the sound of her own voice echoed through her head, loud and brash, until a whisper seemed like thunder or the blast of the trumpet carried by that band member as he marched down the street-left, right, left--past her closed window and closed drapes and closed ears.
Thursday, March 22, 2012
It's enough
Today's 100 words:
It's enough, really, that I have this computer and this room in which to write, the sun slatting through the blinds, the traffic outside my still-closed window serenading me with its early morning quiet hum. It's enough, really, that I have this home in which to live, this small place to share with my little family, beds to sleep in, food to eat. A refuge. It's enough, really, that I have a stack of books to read and time to read them. Simple things. True things. Comforting things. Life and breath. Nothing else matters. It's enough, really. It is.
It's enough, really, that I have this computer and this room in which to write, the sun slatting through the blinds, the traffic outside my still-closed window serenading me with its early morning quiet hum. It's enough, really, that I have this home in which to live, this small place to share with my little family, beds to sleep in, food to eat. A refuge. It's enough, really, that I have a stack of books to read and time to read them. Simple things. True things. Comforting things. Life and breath. Nothing else matters. It's enough, really. It is.
Wednesday, March 21, 2012
The roaring
Today's 100 words:
It was the roaring that made her crazy, the seashell sound of some indescribable fullness or heaviness, a rushing through the ear, never ceasing, forever consistent, only seeming to abate when the noise outside her head grew louder than the pounding within. She began to despise the quiet time she had always loved and craved, the only thing that brought peace to her mind, but now that peace danced hand in hand with strangeness and waltzed with insanity, and although she tried to ignore the cacophonous chaos, she wondered how long it would be before she was finally--blessedly--free.
It was the roaring that made her crazy, the seashell sound of some indescribable fullness or heaviness, a rushing through the ear, never ceasing, forever consistent, only seeming to abate when the noise outside her head grew louder than the pounding within. She began to despise the quiet time she had always loved and craved, the only thing that brought peace to her mind, but now that peace danced hand in hand with strangeness and waltzed with insanity, and although she tried to ignore the cacophonous chaos, she wondered how long it would be before she was finally--blessedly--free.
Tuesday, March 20, 2012
Stream of consciousness--and a good thing
Today's 100 words:
I feel out of sorts, not myself, like something isn't quite right, and I don't know if it's only the respiratory infection I've had for a couple of weeks or the ear infection I was just diagnosed with or the fact that ever since the end of February, everything in my life has been go, go, go when all I want--all I need, really--is to rest, to relax, to take some time to breathe and just be because honestly, I don't know how much longer I can go on this way at this pace: too fast, so fast.
As much as I've felt strange lately, I was able to push those feelings aside yesterday when my little boy, only five years old, ran up to me in the library, a book clutched in his hands. It was a "big kid" book meant for much older children--no pictures, chapters, lots of words--but he was so excited to check it out, so excited for me to read it to him bit by bit. We started it yesterday, and although I'm not sure he has the focus yet to really concentrate on such a story, I'm so proud of him for wanting to try, and I'll never forget the excitement on his face and the look of pride in his eyes as he clutched that book. I guess it's true that there's always a silver lining if one looks carefully enough.
I feel out of sorts, not myself, like something isn't quite right, and I don't know if it's only the respiratory infection I've had for a couple of weeks or the ear infection I was just diagnosed with or the fact that ever since the end of February, everything in my life has been go, go, go when all I want--all I need, really--is to rest, to relax, to take some time to breathe and just be because honestly, I don't know how much longer I can go on this way at this pace: too fast, so fast.
As much as I've felt strange lately, I was able to push those feelings aside yesterday when my little boy, only five years old, ran up to me in the library, a book clutched in his hands. It was a "big kid" book meant for much older children--no pictures, chapters, lots of words--but he was so excited to check it out, so excited for me to read it to him bit by bit. We started it yesterday, and although I'm not sure he has the focus yet to really concentrate on such a story, I'm so proud of him for wanting to try, and I'll never forget the excitement on his face and the look of pride in his eyes as he clutched that book. I guess it's true that there's always a silver lining if one looks carefully enough.
Monday, March 19, 2012
Strange
Today's 100 words:
The weather has been so beautiful here these past couple of weeks, but no one in my family has really had the opportunity to enjoy it. We all made it to church yesterday, but later in the afternoon I came down with an ear infection--my first ever--and had to make a visit to Urgent Care to have it taken care of. My son and daughter have both been battling upper respiratory infections, and now my husband seems to be coming down with something as well. Normally, we don't get sick like this. It's been a strange winter overall.
The weather has been so beautiful here these past couple of weeks, but no one in my family has really had the opportunity to enjoy it. We all made it to church yesterday, but later in the afternoon I came down with an ear infection--my first ever--and had to make a visit to Urgent Care to have it taken care of. My son and daughter have both been battling upper respiratory infections, and now my husband seems to be coming down with something as well. Normally, we don't get sick like this. It's been a strange winter overall.
Sunday, March 18, 2012
You never forget
Today's 100 words:
It's funny how some birthdays just stick in my head, even though it's been years since I've seen or talked to those people. Today is Mike's birthday. Mike was my first crush and the recipient of my elementary school puppy love. His mother told my mother that he liked me too, but we were both shy and rarely spoke. In high school, we did go to the prom together--just that one date. It strikes me as funny how throughout my life I dated other men for far longer time periods, yet I've forgotten most of their birthdays. First love...
It's funny how some birthdays just stick in my head, even though it's been years since I've seen or talked to those people. Today is Mike's birthday. Mike was my first crush and the recipient of my elementary school puppy love. His mother told my mother that he liked me too, but we were both shy and rarely spoke. In high school, we did go to the prom together--just that one date. It strikes me as funny how throughout my life I dated other men for far longer time periods, yet I've forgotten most of their birthdays. First love...
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