The Mom Blah Blah Blog

Recently I entered a contest to write some short fiction inspired by an image.  Though my entry was not selected as the winning story I was still quite happy with how it turned out so I thought I would share it here.  I don't have access to the photo any longer but imagine if you will... A snowy road cut into the slope of a hill, curving through a forest.  There is sunlight streaming through the branches, and a man in the distance, walking towards the camera.  He walks in the ruts formed by tire treads, animal tracks cross his path and footprints are already visible in the snow. She can’t possibly think I’m that stupid, he thinks as he trudges up the road.   Week-old snow crunches beneath his boots as he follows the frantic footsteps of his wife.   She knows this is his element.   He could track a dear in midsummer, so she won’t be difficult to find, but what an inconvenience.   I spend a full day out collecting food and supplies for her and this is how she repays me?  

Picture a church basement classroom.  Small children sitting side by side cross-legged on a mat, looking up at a teacher as she squats precariously on the edge of a much too small child's chair.  She instructs them to hold their hands up in front of them, interlacing their fingers together, index fingers touching to form a steeple, thumbs forming the doors and they sing; the church is not a building, the church is not a steeple, the church is not a resting place, the church is the people.  They open their thumbs and wiggle their fingers and instil in their minds the visual representation of how the people they meet on Sunday are the integral part of church, not the building.  In that moment the church become a relationship instead of an institution. The church is the people. "David was allowed to keep Bathsheba."  Our pastor says when he is asked to step down in the wake of the discovery of his affair.  He is David in this story, I suppose.  She must be Bathsheba,

I had hopes that 2018 would usher in a kinder, softer year that would take it a little easier on our emotions.  Those hopes have already been dashed as I learned yesterday of the untimely death of Dolores O'riordan, lead singer of the Cranberries and 90s rock icon.  There have been a few celebrity deaths that have been hard to take but I must admit that this is one of the most difficult for me.   I was in early high school when their first album broke through the airwaves and we were offered a bright, lilting, feminine alternative to the mostly male dominated rock scene.  Sure, there was other women making music but there was something special about the Cranberries.  I spent hours with that first CD, Everybody Else is Doing It, So Why Can't We.  The dark cover, a photo of the band on a small sofa was simple and straightforward but somehow comforting.  No Need To Argue, released the next year was the bright counterpart.  The same setting, the same simple composition and a retu

The last number of years have been leading me through a process of self discovery.  We often hear about the teenage years as being the time when people figure out who they are.  Maybe I'm a late bloomer but I have recently been going through a time of soul searching and self examination.  After every new phase of life I feel altered in a way that changes me as a person.  In 2017 I hit a milestone.  It's possible that turning 40 has been a big factor in my introspection and soul searching or it could be that I am having a mid-life crisis!   Whatever the cause, this time of self analysis has lead to a new understanding of my place in this world, as a wife, as a mother, as a Christian, as a woman.  I am waking up to the consequences of the decisions I have made previously in my life as well as the possibilities that still remain. I consider myself a fairly rational and level headed person but I am also extremely empathetic and emotional.  There are quite a few people that beli