Rita Arens's Blog, page 53

Will Christmas Break Ever Be Over?

The little angel looked so warm and pink in bed this morning. I crawled in with her, made one of the stuffed dogs she won at the kid casino over the break lick her face. She moaned.

"Is it daytime or nighttime?"

I laughed. I'm the one in this family who usually is the worst about getting out of bed. The fact that she honestly didn't know if it was day or night made me feel better about my own reservations about getting out of bed this morning. 

We got going. She had breakfast. She got...

Let's Laugh at Spoiled People

My sister shared this video with me, and I laughed and laughed and laughed.

 

2011: The Year of Waiting

2011 is almost over. I'm sort of sad to see it go. I've spent this year waiting and watching and biding my time for things to happen. But in the meantime, nothing bad has happened, either. As I've spent the last week thinking over 2011 and what it's been, I realized with great clarity that nothing bad happened this year. Bad things *almost* happened, but then didn't. And maybe with that comes happiness. Perhaps the absence of bad things is really as good as it can be.

That sounds more...

Passing the Poetry Torch

I've been including poems with my holiday cards since I was 21 and I sent out Christmas pieces of paper instead of Christmas cards because I was too broke to buy cards. I'm 37 now, so that means I've sent out 16 holiday poems.

And this year, I didn't.

This year, I was working on revisions on my novel and all my creative energy went to that. This year, I sat down at least three times and the words wouldn't come. This year, I wondered if maybe that well had dried up, if I'd said everything...

Santa Is Real, No He Isn't, Why Can't We All Just Get Along?

I've been reading some interesting posts over at BlogHer about Santa. One was from a woman who is not going to tell her child that Santa is real, ever:

We've definitely put some thought into this decision, and I feel certain it's the right one for our family. I think we will absolutely tell Noah the story of Santa Claus, but we just won't tell him Santa brings him presents, comes down the chimney, eats cookies that he leaves for him or that Santa is "watching him."

I don't think he'll be...

See Something Beautiful: Midnight Sun

Midnight Sun | Iceland from SCIENTIFANTASTIC on Vimeo.

 

Now I've Gone and Ruined Her

I took the little angel to The Nutcracker yesterday. Since she is still in ballet, I thought it might be time to go view the big guns in their gorgeous new home downtown. I bought the tickets the minute they went on sale, back in November, for the Sunday matinee. Because I've never been to the new performing arts center, I just angled for the closest seat I could find to the stage, even though it was sort of over on the side, which can sometimes suck.

This did not suck.

It was a frickin...

Dead Leaves and Lilacs

I stepped outside one afternoon this week and my skin didn't register cold wind. It didn't register a temperature change from the air of the house. The sky swirled with gray clouds, but I laced up my shoes and grabbed a fleece jacket and headed out. 

I wasn't sure how far I planned to go. I wasn't dressed to jog -- I was wearing paint-spattered jeans, a normal bra, glasses. Maybe just around the block, I thought. As it started to gently rain, I thought farther. 

For once, I wasn't wearing my...

Starving Secrets: Yes, I Watched It

Recently I watched the first two episodes of Lifetime's new eating disorder reality show (yes, I really typed that) starring Tracey Gold called Starving Secrets. It's a subject I keep coming back to despite the ickiness of it, because only 30-40% of anorexics ever fully recover, and I did. I understand how hard it is to break the cycle. It's really important for that those of us who have done so talk about it, just so those still suffering know it is possible. And so, the show.

I really do...

A Short Description of Sinus Pain

On Sunday night, I developed a pounding headache. Maybe it wasn't pounding so much as squeezing, viselike squeezing, perhaps powered by Bank of America. My sinuses had become enflamed ripe  peaches wishing to explode. My forehead demanded pressure, but it couldn't be finger pressure because finger pressure is not equal all over. I needed perfectly calibrated pressure that could apply counterpressure to the peaches. It took Advil, a cold compress and cold on the base of my neck and about...