Lately, Kyle’s been walking around with this basketball, constantly shouting “BALL!”

Reality Bites

Some of you may know that there is quite a to-do going on in the world of reality television. The Writer’s Guild of America, which is a union that represents screenwriters, is trying to get “reality storytellers” to join the fold. This would obviously benefit the WGA because there are a lot of us, and they would get our dues money. It would also benefit us because we stand to get things like health insurance, some kind of retirement plan, consistency in credits and titles, a standard of pay and work hours, and contracts.

Right now when a typical story editor gig starts, the SE signs a “deal memo” with the hiring company. This memo serves to protect only the company, not the employee. Basically, it says “okay, you agree to work for us for X weeks. But we can let you go anytime we want to, for any reason.” Thus, when you think you have 20 weeks of work coming up, they can change their minds and say “nope, we’re cutting you off after 18.”

I’m not pro-union. It’s not personal, for any of you who are in a union and/or ever went on strike because of a union (Mom). It seems to me that the only people who truly benefit from the efforts of a union, especially at strike time, are the heads of that union. I mean, just watch The Sopranos. (Okay, I’m kidding. Sort of.)

But damn. If someone made it possible for me to have a contract, in writing, that said my employer couldn’t cut me off early when I am supposed to be committed to THEM, I would really like that.

For a Kiss and the Smell of Baby Shampoo

Lately, when I put Kyle to bed, I miss him like he’s gone away.

I kiss him, say “night-night,” and quickly slip out the door and close it behind me. And then I feel sad that I will not see him again until the morning.

I get into bed and I have the fierce desire to scoop him out of his crib and bring him to bed with me, to curl him up in the hollow of my body, to feel his smooth skin and smell his hair.

I yearn to be near him, but this feeling is different from the achey terror of the “heart walking around outside my body” feeling of having a child. I’m not sure what it is. I’m not sure why it has just started happening this way. I suspect that the feeling has descended upon me because he is growing up.

My baby is becoming a little boy.

He moves with such great speed as I never imagined when he was immobile and flailing. He learns a new word at least once a week (this morning: bubbles!). He cocks his head and smiles at me showing all of his 10 teeth, as if to say “I’m SO cute, Mommy, don’t you just want to squeeze me?”

And I do. I do squeeze him, as much as I can. I know that someday he won’t want me to. I know that day will come much faster than I expect it. But right now it feels far away. Just as I had trouble imagining Kyle as a toddler, I have even more trouble imagining him as a boy, a teenager, a young man. It’s too physically draining.

For now I will get my fix whenever I can. I will continue to snuggle with him, kiss him, gobble his fingers, pinch his three-roll thighs, inhale the smell of his hair, poke his belly, and hug him. I will try to keep the memory of those feelings safe and whole for later, when those moments are fewer and farther between.


This post was inspired by all the writing going on because of Her Bad Mother (badladies.blogspot.com)

Weekend Words Challenge

This weekend I wanted to illustrate each word separately. I have many fantasies that can be juxtaposed with disappointing realities but since I work in Reality Television I was looking forward to using this opportunity to get creative. I could have taken FabCamera to work, but really, my workplace is NOT photogenic. So I dug into the archives for that one. And with Fantasy, I just snapped pictures as usual and found one that fit. This weekend Kyle, Auntie Lisa, and I took a roadtrip down to San Diego to visit our college chums, D and J, and their three little girls. Beside the 189 hours it took to get there and back in the increasingly urban-sprawlific traffic, we had a good time. Oh, and despite Kyle dropping a heavy Piso Mojado (Wet Floor) sign on my toe, and me slipping on wet pavement and falling flat on my bottom. Otherwise, it was really really fun. More pics of the weekend and the beautiful lil’ girls next time I post.