Chicken Noodle has a musical soul and a wicked sense of humor, which means it’s comedic show tunes around here pretty regularly. She’s writing her own songs now, which are delivered at full volume in the living room, often with the advantage of the karaoke machine microphone. Here’s the latest installment in her Broadway-ready repertoire.…
The other night after some Central Oregon brewery suppertime fun, I pulled out of my downtown diagonal parking spot and proceeded to circle the block to head for home. Chicken Little: That was crazy, Mom! Why did you go all the way around the block instead of just turn around back there? Me: Because it’s illegal.…
Chicken Little: Mom, I don”t want to do my homework. I want to make a robot that does my homework.
Yesterday was Captain Daddy’s birthday. Chicken Little and I baked a cake and decorated the house with balloons and party hats. Chicken Noodle took a different approach to celebrating dad. She made him a man cave. Granted, it’s about the size of a shoebox. But despite its size, it’s very nicely appointed and well equipped.…
Chicken Little was born glamorous. Once she was old enough to make fashion decisions on her own, her yen for style emerged. Little never met a frilly bit of clothing, hair accessory, or mirror she didn’t like. Lately, the kid has demonstrated a real affection for makeup. Since she began school last fall, I…
Ever gone on vacation and wished to pretend to be someone else for the week? Just really get away from it all, including yourself? My oldest daughter spent our Hawaiian vacation being a boy. Chicken Noodle, nee’ Elizabeth, most often known as Libby, announced upon arrival in Honolulu that she was now to be referred…
Awhile back, I promised I’d post this essay, which was published in Chicken Soup for the Soul: The Magic of Mothers and Daughters this year. It’s all about the antics which ensued when Chicken Noodle and I traveled together when she was two. Seems especially appropriate given our recent mother-daughter quest to Hawaii (which was…
Chicken Little is fearless. She simply always has been. When she was two, during a screening of one of the Ice Age flicks, and as her big sister was climbing my person in fear in a way which suggested she hoped to return to the womb, Little clambered upright on her seat and hollered,…
Last night Chicken Little hit on this wacky notion that we all should sleep on the floor. When I balked, her yen turned into obsession. She started to sob and wail. “I want you to sleep on the floor with me!” Naturally, Captain Daddy, who might actually dig sleeping on the floor, wasn’t home. “Baby,…
We’re at the public pool. Mayhem as usual. I sit on a grassy hill in the shade, alternately fiddling with my phone and checking to make sure my children are still alive. They can swim now. There are lifeguards everywhere. I need not be as vigilant as so many summers before. It’s a relief…