This is a remarkably stupid fiction piece, though based on a true story. This week’s Bloggy Mom’s Writer’s Workshop said to write what you don’t know. I have no clue how to write a fictional tale, even this is based on a lady that pissed me off at P’s dance recital. Next time maybe I’ll be more serious and be less self-indugant with my really bad sense of humour.
I would suck at poker for a variety reasons: I bore quickly of card games, I don’t like the chance of not getting something in return for my money and I’m not sure I’d be able to master a poker face. Is that what friends do, when they are told a peer is pregnant? Though they do not actually intend on remaining friends, they say so anyway, their facial expressions in on the ruse? Or do they genuinely believe they’ll stick around, until they grow bored over parties lacking your presence or grow awkward when you say you, let alone do, breastfeed? I moved back to BC from Ontario because I was living a life that was over my head. An abusive childhood, self-destructive…
Tagged: friends, responsibility
There are times where your self-confident self can be reckoned with, transformed into that shy, shaky kid at the front of the class during public speaking week. I didn’t expect one of those times would be spawned in relation to an event with the soundtrack of Livin’ La Vida Mickey. When I signed Patience up for dance classes I expected the waiting room experience with the other parents, mostly mothers, would be horrible. It wasn’t. I’m usually reading a book or writing in my notebook while they chat amongst themselves. It is all very friendly and I’m sure if I wasn’t so darn anti-social I’d be included in the banter. So no, this post is not about mean dance moms. It does involve a…
Tagged: dads, dance, single mom
Parenting seems to be like a game of musical chairs; you think things are going smoothly before you are suddenly left standing alone. Thoughts go round and round searching for a place to settle. Is calling my daughter beautiful giving her confidence or a sense that she is only worth her good looks? Is a cupcake a fun treat or gateway drug to a sugar addiction? When people stop to offer their unsolicited advice, are they speaking from their own past mistakes, or finding an opportunity to be relieved that their sitting this round out?
