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This week…

February 9, 2012

This week all the snow melted in our front yard. I found a beaded necklace, a baggie of Legos, a length of orange and grey yarn, a white plastic Frisbee, and a baggie of Kix cereal.

This week we biked to the park in sweatshirts. (In February! Biking! I will from now on be surprised by nothing.) The boys could have stayed for five hours. I hope they never tire of the playground.

This week I finished Born to Run by Chris McDougall. Adored it. Considered, briefly, becoming an ultra-marathoner. Decided that at this stage in life, half marathons are as much time as I can spare. But someday…

This week I made meatball soup, turkey pita pockets with yogurt-cucumber sauce, and homemade chicken fingers. Homeruns, all three. I love dinnertime success.

This week I saw a sign outside a Lutheran church that said, “Get out of Facebook and into God’s Book.” It made me smile.

This week Asher became 99 percent potty trained, thanks to four pounds of Jelly Bellies. A diaper-free house! Almost as miraculous as a 45-degree February in Minnesota.

This week I backed into the garage door with the van. And sent Seth his favorite text ever: “I just killed the garage door.”A lovely repairman (Aaron) fixed it, and told me if I don’t run into it again it should be fine. I was so happy I gladly forked over my hard-earned freelance money, the money ear-marked to buy a family canoe. I reminded myself that there are still a few more months (and therefore, several more writing opportunities) before the lakes will be canoe-ready. (See above pictures.)

This week, with a full moon hanging in the evening sky and a yard full of trash and a crunched garage door, I thought of a poem I wrote three years ago when I was in the throes of postpartum blues and wondering why I decided to have so many children. (I am not a poet, so please excuse the gross imperfection:)

The moon that hangs in front of me

Is like a gift:

Thin as rice paper.

So close, I could reach up and flick it,

Tear a hole in its orb

Or lay it gentle on my

Tongue and let it dissolve

Like a sacrament.

Dusky rose

Deepening to orange

Like sunrise to sunset

The colors and hues of my days.

Long and stretched

So rarely illuminated

I have really two choices

With what I can hang in my vision.

I can tear at it, looking for something

Greater lurking behind it.

Or make my sacrifice

A sacrament of thanks.

Moon, you remind me

Of everyday beauty.

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9 Comments
  1. February 9, 2012 8:13 am

    WOW, Tiffany, you are such a gifted writer. Both the poem and the non-poem is marvelous. You are amazing.

  2. Meredith permalink
    February 9, 2012 9:11 am

    Sounds Iike a successful week (besides the garage incident but that just now makes a good laugh to add to your successful week!) congrats on potty training Asher!!

  3. Alice-Anne permalink
    February 9, 2012 3:05 pm

    I love this post. I loved the gorgeous pictures sandwiched between “real life.” Sorry about the garage (something I would do!) and congrats to you and Asher on the potty training! Oh, and the dinner success…those feel good, too. Loved your poem.

  4. Alice-Anne permalink
    February 9, 2012 5:59 pm

    ps so glad you enjoyed born to run…that’s one of my favorites (even if I don’t run ultras or anything for that matter. 🙂

    • February 10, 2012 6:07 am

      I remember you mentioning how much you liked “Born to Run.” Do you follow McDougall’s website or blog? There’s some great stuff on there.

  5. Melinda W permalink
    February 9, 2012 10:23 pm

    Totally saw myself running barefoot after reading that book…I should try and get regular running down first. 😉 Love the pictures!!!

  6. Vivienne Lewis permalink
    February 9, 2012 11:17 pm

    Always love pictures of our grandchildren. Good boy, Asher, not quite 3! Sorry about the garage. I backed into Dad Crismon’s car once when I was backing out of the garage. Ouch!

  7. Vivienne Lewis permalink
    February 9, 2012 11:18 pm

    Loved your poem, too!

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