Sometimes I hate being a parent.

I love my daughter, let me say that clearly. But sometimes the responsibilities that we carry hurts. It stops us in the middle of a walk and makes us realize that our kids, even though we love them, can easily hurt us so deep that we want nothing but to run away. My baby girl is 9 years old and shes always held that power. I never questioned if that was smart because its my daughter. My love is UN-phased because she would always be my love, dedication and passion.

But just recently she hurt me so deep that it left me slightly crippled for a moment or two.

I’m not going to go into details since shes only 9 and who she is now isn’t the same person shes going to be in a few months. Change is growth. I totally accept that. But fuck it hurt.

Do all parents go through this?

Guess we all carry that burden or possible hurt as parents. Disappointments, regret or just plain anger. No kid grows up without some bitterness towards their parent. Even the most loving adult has some pent up issue towards mom or dad. So its normal for a parent to feel that towards their kid I’m sure. Just because we feel it doesn’t mean we love any less.

I remember being a kid and my mom asking me a question about why I loved her. I remarked back in true “Israel smart ass” fashion. She cried so bad that she had to walk away from me. I never saw my mom walk away from me like that. I don’t remember being hit by my dad but I’m sure I was for saying something so harshly to her, I apologized. It wasn’t a true apology because I really didn’t understand the reason I was apologizing. I thought I had said an unfunny joke. Some time later I laid in bed and awoke thirsty. I asked my mom for a glass of water and she walked in, half asleep holding a glass. Then it hit me. I was wrong and why.

I couldn’t describe why I was crying to her, I just sobbed as she held me. She thought it was from a bad dream. But no. It was the realization that I had hurt the person who was my world. That guilt was so heavy that I carry it still to this day. Even more so after losing my mom 10 years after that night.

So I know I love my daughter. I know she’s going to mess up. She’s going to do things, say things, act in a way that might not be what I want for her. But I will always love her. Even when she’s driving me bat-shit crazy.


Undecided title.

I’m in a loving type of mood. Not sure what this is going to be. Thinking it’s a story just waiting to grow around this scene.


Smiling widely, she asked foolishly If I loved her?

Cautiously, I walked next to her holding back my enthusiasm.

I said,”yes”.

My answer was simple, soft and direct.

But what I wanted to say was more.

“More than I love anything else. More than I care for myself. I love your smile more than any sunrise or sunset. I love your smell more than any rose or flower. I need your touch more than the air I breath. I need your affection more than the food I eat. I want nothing more in life but too spend it next to you. Watching, listening, protecting, kissing providing and holding you. Yes. I so do madly love you.”

With my simple answer, she smiled widely, kissing my cheek, she whispers, “I love you madly too”.


So this is something I just started working on. The premise is a small glimpse into relationships, broken into 90 word segments.

He was happy.

As he laid there with her next to him, both naked and hot from exhaustion. They caressed and spoke softly to each other.

In the morning he left her side for his morning run.

An hour later he returned to find her gone.

The note placed on the pillow simple said, ‘It’s not working out. I don’t think we should see each other anymore”.

He stared at that small piece of notepad paper and wondered why?

Emotions left unanswered can haunt you for the rest of your life.

Maybe she moved on?

Maybe she hadn’t?

“I never hated someone so much before”. He thought to himself.

“The feeling of rage filled me so much that it left me shaking.

I deserve a reason.

Something to blame, whether it’s a fault, known or unknown. A habit, action, something.

I deserve to know.

Because not knowing is worse.

Not knowing means I blame everything.

All my insecurities, regrets or guilt’s.

Everything is blamed, held responsible and exposed.

Why now?

Morning after what seemed a great night.

I deserve to know why.

I hate her with everything right now.

I deserve to know.”

She’s walking away hurriedly.

Hair pulled back into a pony tail, jacket closed up and scarf wrapped around her tearful face.

She didn’t feel guilty.

She wasn’t allowing herself to feel anything.

“A few more blocks”, is all she would tell herself.

“A little bit further and then I can think about it.

It wasn’t a mistake.

I had to leave.

Just a few more blocks.

Total waste of my time and energy.

I can’t just follow that.

He seriously expected me to be ok with that?

What a jerk.”

Creativity is a tricky bitch.

I’ve been in a slump the last few weeks. The last few months my mind set has been on obtaining, then working this new job that I recently started. A very intense and complicated position. So my creativity has been muted for a few months as I tried to learn the job and maintain my new responsibilities. But today I decided to take back what I so easily gave up.

Writing has always been one of those calming or energizing aspects of my life. Whenever I was in need of self therapy the written word always made things better. But the last few months have been a complete whirlwind of pressures and emotions. I hate my new job. I miss the calmness of my previous life. But things change and we move forward right?

I miss creating.

I used to create stories from moments and little experiences that would occur through out my day. Little scenarios that I would build on. What if moments. I miss that. Sometime being an adult sucks.

So today I start again. I’m making a point to write today, to come up with some type of experience that I can build on.