Day 2: Stop and PAINT the Roses

This largely unedited free-write is linking up with the annual Write 31 Days Challenge. // indicates the start and stop of five minutes. Today, the word is PAINT. Go!

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day-2-paint

// “Kids, let’s paint the town red!” said no mother EVER!

In fact, the mere words “mommy, can we paint?” used to send me into a state of panic. Paint? No way! I just cleaned the kitchen, I just washed the floor, you just had a bath, I can’t clean up ONE… MORE… TIME.

You know the feeling. That desperation deep inside that says, “Please, Jesus, I just need some time to relax. I can’t do one more thing.”

I LOVE order and cleanliness. No, I’m not OCD (let’s just say that I have SCD… “Stress Compulsive Disorder.” When I’m stressed, I organize.) You know those Ikea plastic dishes in 6 colours? Yeah, when I’m stressed, I always stack them in order of the rainbow. During college, I would take study breaks long enough to re-fold my dresser drawers or organize my closet in order of the rainbow. Wanna know how stressed I am? Check if the dishes say ROYGBIV. Read more

Day 1: You Were Never Meant to Walk Alone

 Welcome to 31 Days of MOM Awesomeness!

This largely unedited free-write is linking up with the annual Write 31 Days Challenge. // indicates the start and stop of five minutes. Today’s prompt word is WALK.  Go!

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mom-advice

// My arrival was met with bloodshot eyes and abject failure. Baby was finally asleep, but mommy was ‘finished.’

Day 3. Why does no one warn you about day 3?

“How are you, my friend?”

The tears started afresh and out of her mouth gushed all of the insecurity and self-doubt that had ravaged her heart and mind for the last hours.

“I can’t do this. I’m failing. What is wrong with him? What is wrong with me? I’m so tired. I’m so sore. I can’t even think straight. Why am I crying? Why is he still crying? Oh my God, I think I’m gonna die.”

I hugged her and let her spend her tears on my shoulder. I remember that truck, the one that rolls over you without warning, over and over and over again. Her real mother was an ocean away―I felt the weight of maternal compassion.  Read more

Five Minute Friday – COLLECT

Every Friday, I join a special group of writers to write for FIVE MINUTES on a one-word prompt. No editing. No revising. Just WRITE. This week, the word is COLLECT. Go!

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collect-1

// Sometimes, I hated Saturdays. Yup, it’s true.

Not all of Saturday; just the mornings, really. Of course, Saturdays were wonderful cuz there was no school, and we could sleep in like every other teenager around.

But Saturdays were “chore days.” And before we could truly have any fun, my brother and I had to finish our chores. His was easy―vacuuming. Mine was cleaning bathrooms (unpleasant, but tolerable) and

D U S T I N G Read more