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Live. Write. Repeat.: October 2013
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Live Write. Repeat. My attempt to write what I know. Tuesday, October 22, 2013. When Forgetting to Eat is Just That. I glanced at the oven clock: 11:37 am. Only eight minutes until pickup. It's time to GO-OOOO! I shouted upstairs. The pair were heading to the swim team's hour-long swim-a-thon. One set of footsteps rumbled down the stairs and into the kitchen. Olivia tossed her swim bag down on the floor and turned back around the corner to grab her fleece from the hooks in the hallway. She didn't eat any...
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Live. Write. Repeat.: The Gray is Always Grayer
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Live Write. Repeat. My attempt to write what I know. Monday, November 3, 2014. The Gray is Always Grayer. I was 28 the first time I put chemicals on my virgin hair. My dark brown mop was graying and I wanted to ease the transition to salt and pepper. Hardly a poorly thought out lapse in judgment, I went to a professional, asked for her guidance, gave it a couple-month’s thought, and made the appointment. There’s also the fact that I truly hate the process of coloring my hair. The kindly folks a...So I re...
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Live. Write. Repeat.: My Mean Girls Will Never Be Mother Teresas
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Live Write. Repeat. My attempt to write what I know. Tuesday, August 26, 2014. My Mean Girls Will Never Be Mother Teresas. Shame and anxiety are my brain's Mean Girls: they make me feel bad and for a long time, I was scared to talk about them. Do I have to feel ashamed or anxious about? Well, in the past year, it's come to my attention that practicing gratitude when I'm feeling bad is a lousy coping mechanism, not to mention it's insulting to those who I have determined "have it worse" than I do. Since I...
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Live. Write. Repeat.: January 2014
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Live Write. Repeat. My attempt to write what I know. Saturday, January 18, 2014. I stood facing the stove, my back to Olivia. My rear-view vision told me our nine-year-old was slumped halfway down the kitchen table bench, not at all attempting her least favorite homework: spelling. I pictured pursed lips, puffed cheeks and a salty demeanor worth at least a pallet of Morton's. Breathe deeeeep, Jen. Breeeeeeeeathe deeeeeeeeeep. Instead, I puffed shallow, frustrated. You have to eat dinner and. I was always...
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Live. Write. Repeat.: Pushups for Wedding Jitters
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Live Write. Repeat. My attempt to write what I know. Monday, October 13, 2014. Pushups for Wedding Jitters. Thank goodness Santa comes under the cover of darkness. Imagine if the jolly old elf came midday, instead. There would be no nestling of children. No visions of sugar plums a-waltzing. No good night. Creatures would ceaselessly, mercilessly stir, stir, stir. Shannon and her step-mother were quick to console Anna. "You're fine, honey! But Anna was already overwhelmed by my voice and my glare. Sh...
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Live. Write. Repeat.: October 2014
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Live Write. Repeat. My attempt to write what I know. Monday, October 13, 2014. Pushups for Wedding Jitters. Thank goodness Santa comes under the cover of darkness. Imagine if the jolly old elf came midday, instead. There would be no nestling of children. No visions of sugar plums a-waltzing. No good night. Creatures would ceaselessly, mercilessly stir, stir, stir. Shannon and her step-mother were quick to console Anna. "You're fine, honey! But Anna was already overwhelmed by my voice and my glare. Sh...
livewriterepeat.blogspot.com
Live. Write. Repeat.: April 2014
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Live Write. Repeat. My attempt to write what I know. Tuesday, April 8, 2014. Our girls have a favorite knock-knock joke. Go ahead and read the punchline twice if you have to. Then faster. Now again. Furrow your brow if it helps. Still struggling? Ask your resident human under the age of 10. Guaranteed she'll giggle. A rather professional "business" is the clubhouse leader. The runner up? In the meantime, I'll do my best to curb it. I certainly won't engage in it. And occasionally, I'll chuckle wi...Http:...
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Live. Write. Repeat.: August 2014
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Live Write. Repeat. My attempt to write what I know. Tuesday, August 26, 2014. My Mean Girls Will Never Be Mother Teresas. Shame and anxiety are my brain's Mean Girls: they make me feel bad and for a long time, I was scared to talk about them. Do I have to feel ashamed or anxious about? Well, in the past year, it's come to my attention that practicing gratitude when I'm feeling bad is a lousy coping mechanism, not to mention it's insulting to those who I have determined "have it worse" than I do. Since I...
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Live. Write. Repeat.: February 2014
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Live Write. Repeat. My attempt to write what I know. Tuesday, February 25, 2014. Letting It Go When the Time is Right. All I could see was the top of our seven-year-old's head. Face buried on the kitchen table at dinner, Anna didn't want Tony and I too see what we already knew was happening underneath. Crying. Lots of it. Only minutes before, we enjoyed a rare moment of civil banter at the dinner table that didn't involve a poop story, a tired knock-knock joke or another play-by-play of a Jessie. Well, t...
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Live. Write. Repeat.: December 2014
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Live Write. Repeat. My attempt to write what I know. Wednesday, December 3, 2014. Wholesome Language, Foul Intentions. I don’t swear out loud at my three daughters. It’s rude, it’s unnecessary and I’m pretty sure that they’d dish it right back to me, eventually. To be clear, our three daughters are good kids. They behave at school. They’re kind to each other. But their lack of knowledge and awareness of basic hygiene, self-maintenance and the world they live in every freakin’. 6 Urine in the bowl with a ...