Author: erincurlett
-
Shadow Puppets
I leave the door open because I know it is only a matter of seconds before I’ll hear the pitter patter of his tiny feet on the tile. “Mama!” Henry calls out. He rounds the corner, spots me, and exclaims, “Oh! Poop!” he claps his hands, overjoyed to witness the magic of the toilet, which […]
-
Growing Hope
The afternoon before Jacob is born, I trudge up the stairs to my bedroom to lay myself down. September sun filters through the window, casting shadows from the orange leaves of the tree onto my bed. As I crawl under the covers, I think, this is what hope feels like, and I exhale. I’ve been […]
-
We’re Good
It’s animal print day, but too warm to wear the entire Paw Patrol Marshall pajama ensemble, so we go with the pj pants only. Which means everyone keeps complimenting him on his cow pants—which is confusing to him because he’s not a cow! But also Marshall isn’t his favorite pup—Chase is. And blue is his […]
-
On Ice and Fire and Goose Poop
We are chasing wild geese in the early morning light. The sun slants through the trees and it is so bright I must squint to see. My feet, bare and cold, are also covered in goose poop. These are the sacrifices one makes as the mother to a boy who is almost three. Jacob runs […]
-
Cosmopolitan
This is a poem I wrote years ago and recently found in one of the many boxes of paperwork I’ve lugged around from house to house in various moves. There was a dive bar near my college called the Tropicana, and as I drove past, I often wondered what the people were like inside. (Incidentally, […]
-
Exciting News – The Unofficial Guide to Surviving Life with Boys
One night last spring, I received a Facebook message from Tiffany, a writer and editor (#lifewithboys) I had occasionally bumped into in several blogger Facebook groups. Thanks to my brief stint as editor of the Good Mother Project, I’ve been fortunate enough to lurk perpetually in many writers’ circles, dreaming of one day adding my […]
-
Tidal Wave
My dreams are plagued by a recurring nightmare about a tidal wave. It begins with a hush and a roar and the realization that it’s too late to run. I don’t run — not because it’s too late, but because there’s something else for me to do before the water comes. I believe there’s still […]
-
Pleasures
Feeling the cold squish of paint through your fingers; the tight caking on your rainbow-splattered arms; the laugh bursting from your belly. Finger painting is freedom, is joy, is pleasure. Grateful you could remind me.
-
Favorite Quote
“When you wake up in the morning, called by God to be a self again, if you want to know who you are, watch your feet. Because where your feet take you, that is who you are.” – Frederick Buechner, The Alphabet of Grace
-
Noon
“Hawaii is my happy place,” I said to no one, ever, at any time. The morning was too bright, too hot, and too lonely. But the light’s beginning to change. Happiness, like a cockroach, has a way of creeping up on you.
Erin Curlett 