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I am the mom who hovers.

I am definitely not the hovering type. Here I am at the park, hoping there will be a moment when I can sit on a bench while she goes through her rituals; carefully watching her face for signs of distractions that will require action on my part.

We play in ways where I have figured out a secret passageway into her world. She can block me out in an instant, especially in unfamiliar places. She has her own method to explore and accept her surroundings. I can only watch that part, and I don’t really mind anymore.

“Can she play with me?”

Damn it. Now I have to explain to this hopeful little girl why my daughter is not going to pay any attention to her. It’s never a simple conversation.

After a brief explanation I turn to Teghan. “Teghan, can you say hi?” Nope. She’s in a loop. She’s found her point A and point B and she is too busy running between those two points to notice we exist right now. I get it, but that’s not a reason that makes sense to most children. Continue reading

The Things We Leave Behind

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I lost a lot of my toys in the summer of 1984. That was the year my parents bought a house in preparation for the arrival of my little sister. I was sick during the move and spent most of that time on my Grandma Sprague’s couch, secretly happy to miss the hard labor involved with such an event. I couldn’t wait to get home and find everything “magically” moved to our new home.

I have no idea why I wasn’t worried about what I might lose. In fact, it took years to really figure it out. Even now I sometimes find myself remembering my childhood and thinking, “I wonder whatever happened to that….” Then I remember. I had never moved before, so I didn’t fully appreciate the steps of packing one’s belongings. After watching my husband weed through my daughter’s toy pile during our own recent move, I am thinking I probably lost more things than I originally thought. Continue reading