Matt Mooney's Blog, page 14

a plea for nuance

My post-election social media feeds are half-filled with exclamatory proclamations of a country now headed to greater grandeur than it has known, while another half of the updates, statuses and links swear impending doom for women, children and wage earners.

We are a bit prone to say things such as, “these are the most divided times” and such- and I am sure there are even numbers out there to back this up. But I have studied just enough history to know about the civil war and civil rights and...

for the day the calendar says it's been 8 years.

Today, I will go to the same restaurant,

being sure to walk the same route- as best I can remember.

And that’s just it, I hate myself for forgetting something about that day-

but I can’t recall, what I can’t recall.

about the day that changed it all.

I tell myself to let it go, but that only serves to swell the guilt.

I can picture well his almond eyes.

But I’m not sure if that is from the pictures or actually stolen from those cherished moments I beheld them.

There is no way to love those gone ...

for the day the calendar says it’s been 8 years.

Today, I will go to the same restaurant,

being sure to walk the same route- as best I can remember.

And that’s just it, I hate myself for forgetting something about that day-

but I can’t recall, what I can’t recall.

about the day that changed it all.

I tell myself to let it go, but that only serves to swell the guilt.

I can picture well his almond eyes.

But I’m not sure if that is from the pictures or actually stolen from those cherished moments I beheld them.

There is no way to love those gone in a...

Crawl. Walk. Run.

It’s been 4 weeks since I have written. Or bathed.

It’s been 4 weeks since Ginny’s back surgery.

Thanks to all who have served us so well. Meals have been made, laundry folded. Sure, it’s a bit of a downer when you realize that a friend of the opposite gender folded your tightey-whiteys. I haves opted to frame this panicked moment of comprehension as the moment our friendship grew larger (you know who you are & there are more than one of you I am afraid). I am also suddenly motivated to going s...

Almost. Not yet.

Sometimes I write for you.

Sometimes I write for me.

This is most likely the latter.

It’s been quite a season in the Land ‘O Mooneys. Many of you know that while on our trip to Michigan, Ginny re-injured her back. And so her vacation headed more toward Purgatory than Petoskey.

[That ole trick that we first learned two years back whereby the disc decides to come out of place and push on the nerve and Ginny winces and leans over and keeps mommy-ing even though she is in a lot of pain and on a lot o...

Kindergarten.

Blonde hair poured over the top of the purple, floral-covered backpack that swallowed up most the rest of her, until her legs peeked out from the skirt she had laid out with precision the night before.

This would be her outfit for the first day of kindergarten.

She has chosen her own clothes since sometime around two. Ginny long ago decided to pick her battles and clothes didn’t make the list. We felt a bit a sheepish in her Punky Brewster stage but she has developed quite the eye for fashion o...

Kindergarten sucks

Blonde hair poured over the top of the purple, floral-covered backpack that swallowed up most the rest of her, until her legs peeked out from the skirt she had laid out with precision the night before.

This would be her outfit for the first day of kindergarten.

She has chosen her own clothes since sometime around two. Ginny long ago decided to pick her battles and clothes didn’t make the list. We felt a bit a sheepish in her Punky Brewster stage but she has developed quite the eye for fashion o...

in the midst

Tomorrow my beloved and our three amigos will pile into Big Red and we will point that bad boy north; our annual summer voyage to Petoskey, Michigan takes about 14.5 hours according to the Google. But Google is a liar; we hustle to do it in double time.

Ginny will bring out the crafts, games and ideas she has been piecing together since last year’s trip. She will patiently answer each and every question, move to the back to pick up of dropped toys and employee ninja-fairy mind tricks to keep t...

Guest Post:: Atlas Girl (Emily Wierenga)

If someone sat me down and pointed the barrel near my vicinity and asked me what was my favorite genre of books….then, and only then, I would offer up “memoir” in a muffled tone. Thereafter, I would stand up and kick his butt with some Ozark ninja moves that I learned only from being on the receiving end when I was younger (it’s my story, go with it). I don’t like to pinned down on questions such as these, but be it known that I love memoir and I believe the world needs more believers to tell...

when it gets hard and you are who you hate

I am kicking Ginny out of our house for 2.5 days come Tuesday. She deserves more. But this currently seems tantamount to cresting Everest- so we’ll celebrate instead of mourn the fact that 2.5 days is a gold medal moment. I am the very dad that scoffed at fathers who acted like they were super heroes when they took care of their own kids…behaving as though they had done something worthy of a cookie. Or- worse yet- call dad a “babysitter” and I would verbally molly wop you upside the head.

“it’...