A Post Without Pictures {You’re Welcome}

Have you ever had a moment with your child, when they do something that inflicts SO MUCH FUCKING PAIN to you that you your vision goes white and have to grasp a wad of whatever is closest to you in order to prevent your hands from flailing involuntarily in their direction?

…yeah, that happened.

I mean sure, with an{almost} four year old, and a one year old, it has definitely happened more than once. When my oldest was about 2, she was sitting in my lap and moved her head backwards into my nose at such a high level of velocity that I was sure It’d been flattened. All I remember is hearing a loud CRACK, then seeing white. No blood that time though. Since she never inflicted an injury that required a tourniquet, her little brother must have been plotting his “one-up” on her.

The three of us, sitting on my bed as we often do when Jackson wakes up from his nap. Laughing and cuddling and talking about dreams. An empty cup on my nightstand. A baby brother just itching to one-up his sister. He grabbed it. He chucked it. It bounced off Lilly’s head. Then straight into my mouth. A fat. Bloody. Lip.

Touche, little dude. Touche.


Gene E. Rice

The investor of my social life. The fountain of wisdom. The been-there-done-that, do-it-this-way-instead. The family stone. The leader. The glue that held us all together.

In the midst of all of our sadness, all of our family time being spent these last few days, all of the memories, one scene of my grandfather and me keeps running through my head.

Seven years ago this August I was a just out of high school 18 year old who was still to scared to drive, riding in the car with a friend when before we knew it we heard tires screeching, we heard metal breaking, we smelt engines burning and we felt the pain overtake us. I literally remember one of my first clear thoughts when I was in the hospital being “There is no way in HELL that I’m getting my drivers license now “. But when my grandfather came to visit me, he said “Blair, you need to get your license. Don’t you agree that you’ll feel safer when YOU are in control?”.

I had never thought about it that way. That wisdom, you see?

I can’t help but be saddened by the irony in which he was taken from us, this grandfather we knew. He lost control, and now our family is struggling to find our own. Please keep us in your thoughts.


**the charmer with the tongue out**