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What was that?
Me: So I am an evil mommy? Bambi: No you aren’t, you are making sensible decisions. Over the course of the summer I will exploring the identity crisis.
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Like medicine after death
Like medicine after death.
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The need to memorize
I am learning some of the most profound lessons from my son (age 7). This morning I tried on an outfit for work, I looked at our massive full length mirror, A: What does this look like? B: It looks like you. A: Do you think it is too much for work. B: Yes and…
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The Ladies of Grace Adieu and Other Stories … a review
Originally posted on BookMark: This is a book of fairytales, yes, the real kind! I picked it up at the book fair this year judging by it’s beautiful hardback cover. Yes, I am guilty! Anyway, apparently the author Susanna Clarke is quite famous from having written another series of such tales, but I must confess…
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This parenting thing
So I asked Bambi can you speak about the things you say to me, and he said: B: “I want to play with the iPad.” A: What about the time you said, “Your food tastes like dirty sock” B: “Well, we are going to talk about the nice things.” B: “I want to go…
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Renewing my faith
Currently having a dodgy relationship with my old faithful Canon PowerShot G11 after it failed to deliver on two important occasions. Today we took a walk towards Ouderkerk so that I could renew my faith. I am still skeptical, cynical. Let’s see how things go.
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Falling through the cracks
Blackened embers still burning now and then A white moon smudged In-between I built my castle on reclaimed land Dug the wet sand till its grains hurt between skin and nail Swept away the sea Pushed back the tidal waves of full moon the basalt gray Call me sturdy
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A walk through Amstel Park
“Is it summer yet?” “I think so.” “How would you know?” “Well it is that time of the year.” “What if you did not have a calendar?” “It is warm, the sky is clear, the ducks are having ducklings, the flowers are out, and the trees have leaves.” “That’s just a good day.” “When you…
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Carla
The day Carla died my almost seven year old cried at the hairdresser not because Carla died, but, because he wanted to “it is just so unfair” When we came home he cried some more. Refused to shower claimed he hated showers since the end of time. Then he said, “Sometimes you don’t take care…
