a.rose

I generally shy away from publicly stating my political beliefs.  I am pretty open about my religious beliefs, but for some reason I don't like to participate in conversations about politics on open internet forums.  But I can't stop thinking about some recent events, and I don't know, maybe you have too?  I don't claim to have the right answer, or to know exactly what we should do, but I need to process my thoughts and there's nothing quite like writing for sorting out what you are thinking. First of all, perhaps you've heard what happened in Beirut, and what Adel Termos did?  Another article reporting the story, here . I read about Adel and his sacrifice and I feel good inside, about the decency, the absolute heroism left in some of humanity.  But then, I turn around and I see news reports of states here in the U.S. making the decisions about opening their borders or not, governors taking one position or another about harboring refugees. I read through...

There is something in this moment that grabs at my throat and pulls at the tears gathering in my eyes. Something that makes me aware of every breath I take, and every beat of my heart.  Something elusive and fleeting, and I worry that if I don't sit down and try to capture it in words on paper it will float out the window on the warm gentle breeze blowing through my windows, carried away with the sunshine and sound of birds. I hear it in the sounds of laughter and voices calling from outside, as Heather plays on the swings and Hazel dumps sand on herself in the sandbox.  I am in their bedroom, the window just above where they play.  I watch their tiny bodies as I fold laundry and pick up the flotsam and jetsam of childhood that is strewn about their room. I hear it coming from the next room, as Hallie giggles softly to herself.  She is surrounded by piles of books that have been pulled off the bookshelf, in careful search for the one that was just right for t...

Five years ago, give or take a couple weeks, a younger Devin and I spent the day with our younger Hallie and Hanna at a car dealership. We were trying to decide which Mazda 5 to buy.  It was a big gulp for us to drop that 20 some thousand dollars, but our little family was growing and it was time to upgrade to a second car and a bigger vehicle.  The next day we drove past a different car dealership on our way somewhere else, and saw a beautiful sight - a slightly used Mazda 5 for half the price we had been planning to pay.  We squealed a u-turn, marched in, and dropped a fat check on a shocked salesperson's desk. It was a happy five years, 100, 000 miles, and a million memories.  That little car drove us to Utah, Texas, Indiana, Michigan, and Wisconsin.  It knew our little section of Lincoln like the...backseat of... itself.  And then, in the way that you know things that you know, it was time to let it go. Our family had grown again, and that little m...

My friend Holly recently organized a busy bag exchange, and so I decided to make a little playmat.  The idea was for them to be small enough to be carried around in a purse or diaper bag, to pull out whenever you need something quick and entertaining, like at the doctor's office, or post office? driver's bureau? waiting to pick up big sister from school? So for my playmat, it was easy to find printable ones online that were for cars, you know, roads and whatnot.  I found a bunch like that, and then I found some that were like for jungle animals and dinosaurs, and that was cool too.  I printed off those, and then I thought of all the little toys we have that would work so well with a playmat like this (see below), all the little farm animals and people and I searched and searched for something that would work for that kind of creative play, and couldn't find anything. So I just made my own, even though I don't have photoshop and wouldn't know how to use it even if...

It's one of those things that I can't make up my mind about.  Part of me wants to talk about it, and part of me doesn't.  And part of me shrugs and admits that I wouldn't know what to say even if I did start talking about it. I don't even know exactly what it was, exactly, that hit me after Hazel was born, and the fog that I lived in that year.  I have wondered if it was postpartum depression, and I have wondered if that is why it is hard for me to talk about it. I still have trouble finding words to describe my experience, because I don't know any words heavy enough to convey how it felt in my head.  This, written a few weeks ago, is as close as I have been able to come. we dance and we are drowning in the flames, burning in the waves yet the sweet, sweet agony summons it is seductive, shrieking, screaming, the sounds of a pain so caught up in pleasure a mask of cocoa mist obscured by moss and blood and still we dance our eyes closed to the...

one hundred cornflakes all over the floor / little feet stepping / each time breaking / each flake / into / a hundred new flakes I sigh I bend down / and I begin / picking up each one by hand / it would be easier / of course / of course / of course / to use a vacuum or even the broom / but / of course / I don’t think of that until the job is  all but done / of course / but the job is never done / and there are puzzles and books and papers and crayons and dolls and trucks and bits and pieces of a life / in the middle of living / if archaeologists dug our / house out of the rubble of time / frozen exactly as it is now / they would know just how we lived / and what we wore / and what we ate / but they would not hear your laughter / your little voices calling / your feet padding / down the hall / en route to new adventures / they would not see / that spark in your eye / of creativity as you make / a paper towel roll into a telescope / of discovery as you learn you can hop on one ...

I left all of this behind for a weekend to go to Charleston, South Carolina to have some therapy and fun with some of my very all time, top of the list, holding nothing back because I know they love me, friends. I got on a plane and I flew across the country and spent the next few days just basking in the glory of beautiful places, good food, the silence in conversation that is only possible when there are no children around, and the people.  Yes, these people. The kinds of people who will do yoga on the beach with you, and just roll with it.  The kinds of people who will do crazy jumps, and wild dances, all on a public beach all while filming everything, just in case we wanted the footage someday.  This picture makes us look like any of the other tourists who were out there on that cloudy, windy day, but it doesn't show the wild antics that would follow immediately after.  It's no wonder that even in our 30s people kept thinking we were college kids on ...