Lane Morris Buckman's Blog, page 3

Invisible Women

I waited a week to write this because I didn’t want to accidentally spoil anything. Now, you’re on your own. If you haven’t seen Ghostbusters, just know that you might get slimed with story points if you read further.

I was halfway into Ghostbuster, getting elbowed to death by my excited son, who kept reaching up with his greasy, pizza fingers to grab at my arm, or my shoulder, or my leg (because we went to an eatie theater, as we call them) to share his amusement, or delight, or actual shee...

A Face Full of Myself

For years, my friends and I have had some good laughs over my inability to identify myself in a line-up, made apparent by the number of times I have pointed out my own reflection in a publicmirror as a cute stranger. That number is somewhere between one and happened recently, so let’s not put too fine a point on it.

The best story, one I’ve told many times, is the time I actually walked into a column mirror in a crowded shopping mall. As I was weaving through the crowd, I saw a cute girl comi...

We Don’t Kill People

Dear World at Large,

Maybe no one every told you, or maybe you’re too upset to remember, but this is important: We don’t kill people.

We don’t kill people.

We don’t kill people.

This is a rule.

We don’t kill people.

This is a law.

We don’t kill people out of offensive anger.

We don’t kill people out of offensive fear.

We don’t kill people because they don’t look right.

We don’t kill people because we want what they have.

We don’t kill people because we are afraid they’ll give us what we don’t...

Hands Off Parenting

Thor: (as we were walking out of the house, and he was trailing his hands over everything in sight) I wonder why I like touching things so much?

Me: Probably because you’re a normal kid. You’re curious and human, and you want to know what things feel like. The trick is in knowing when you can, and can’t touch things.

Thor: Impulse control.

Me: Right.

Thor: I don’t have a lot of that.

Me: Again, because you’re a normal kid. The part of your brain that helps you control impulses isn’t finished...

Hi, I’m Sad. Have Some Chicken.

B and I got Thor up this morning, and asked him to come talk to us. The last thing you want is for your kiddo to hear bad news from someone else.

B gave him the breakdown of what happened in Dallas last night, and I told him we knew some people were going to be very upset today, and we wanted to make sure he heard it from us, not some random five-year-old. Because five-year-olds are notorious for getting the facts wrong. He laughed.

But, B worked from home this morning, and Thor stayed home w...

A Nice Body

For as much as I preach body positivity, for as many sleeveless shirts and short-shorts as I own, I spend a lot of time trying to hide my body from my ribcage to my thighs. I see my front torso as a problem. I don’t dislike it, but I’m pretty sure everyone else does, so I try to drape it in such a way that no one has to look at anything unpleasant. (If you don’t like my arms, or my legs, that’s your problem. I live in Texas.)

But something happened last week.

First, I had to look at pictures...

Dear Imaginary Daughter: Cover Your But

(In which I address the daughter I never had, with the advice I always wanted to give.)

Dear Imaginary Daughter,

I did not fully understand the value of my all-girl education until I was an adult woman, confused by the confusion I kept encountering in collegiate, and corporate settings, when I would say what I thought without qualifiers. I didn’t know girls were supposed to soften their opinions before offering them. I spent most of my young life in rooms full of brilliant girls, who were enc...

Be Kind to Your Banker

I am a full six months out of my role as a banker, and I have to tell you…I don’t miss it. While I was working for the bank, there were several things that happened–all post-worthy, none of which I felt comfortable posting then. But now?

Following are some of the things that happened over the course of the past five years. All of them are true, unembellished, and can be corroborated by coworkers–save for the one, and let’s just start there:

A man put his hand down his pants and started to ma...

Why I Believe in Good

This is my grandfather, John Young.

My grandfather was a veteran of two wars. He very rarely spoke of his service, at least to me. He said those weren’t stories for little girls. However, once, he told me about taking a church in Germany. He said that as he and his men were taking the building, he realized there was an attic, and the only way into it was through a trapdoor in the ceiling. In order to secure the church, someone had to go up through that little door, and whoever it was wo...

Orlando

I woke up this morning, and did as...