With the political hoopla surrounding the upcoming Presidential election, I find myself growing increasingly frustrated as I don’t like feeling I need to pick who is leastwrong in how information is discussed, debated, and flung like accusations. Is it so difficult to just say it like it is? Being unapologetically honest, just the facts and no fluff or twists in truth?  No one is perfect, we’re all human and we all make mistakes, taking that into consideration can’t we all just put aside agendas… oh wait, Pollyanna moment, redirecting myself …

Photo Credit: chrisbuzelli.com


I’ve been working on writing Glow and spending time with my little girl amidst work and taking care of our home. Recently she reminded me that while we sometimes do things we shouldn’t, it’s never to late to right a wrong (hint hint politicians ;) Below is an exercise I’m using to help me write scenes for Glow, so pardon the format, however, it does make storytelling via conversation a bit easier.


Scene 1: In a modest home with grey cedar shingles at the end of a driveway lined with arching plum trees creating a canopy, my daughter and I live with a grey weimaraner that we affectionately call our protector. We are a family of three that navigate this endless wake of today together, however perfectly imperfect; it’s us. So newly formed and passed the phantom limb pain of being three rather than four, regardless of that being a choice than circumstances dealt. The scene begins in the kitchen; I’m placing two ice cubes in my daughter, Mars’, periwinkle nubby teacup and a dollop of cream in my steaming Thai infused green tea. The golden spiral locked Mars goes to the pantry pulling out a petite honey squeeze bear, trying desperately to get the honey out.


Mars: “Maman, I’d like some honey and it’s not working! Help me…” She demonstrates again for me above her cup, squeezing the belly and alas, no golden honey coming out of the top.


Me: “Hmm, it’s a new squeeze bear, I bet we need to remove the plastic seal” motioning her to hand me the bear, I unscrew the top and sure enough, the white plastic still in tact. Peeling it off and screwing back on the top I hand back to Mars.  “Here you go…” walking off to the laundry room to put another load in the dryer.


Mars : “ MAMAN!” running from the kitchen through the bathroom to the laundry room in record speed. “My legs are all sticky.”


Me: “Why are your legs sticky?” Curious to where this is going but an idea surfaces given she’s holding a honey bear.


Mars: Tipping her head back and putting the top of the honey bear mere centimeters from her mouth, demonstrates her method of taking shots from the honey bear. “Like this!” her legs sticky as she’s only partly successful in this endeavor.


Me: “Mars, that’s for your tea, not to guzzle honey.” Chuckling I put the honey bear away after she hands it to me, pouting as if I’m the odd one not wanting to take honey shots. I walk to my laptop and tap out this tale on FB for my friends and family to share in the moment.


Scene 2:  Exactly one week later, I’m sitting at my desk in our creative space aptly titled “M2 studios” meaning mars et maman, ready to pay bills when Mars runs in.


Mars: “Maman, I have something to show you, come with me” pulling my hand into hers she takes me into the kitchen and opens the pantry. “Where did the honey bear go? “ innocently peering up at me through her blonde curly bangs as I silently note she needs a hair cut.


Me: “I don’t know little love, where could the little guy go?” chuckling as I can only take a guess…


Mars “He’s NOT in my room.” Grinning like a Cheshire cat preparing to dine on fish left on the counter for dinner.


Me: “Hmm, I wonder where he could be. He must feel lonely. Do you think we can find him?”


Mars: “Sure, let’s go check your room, he might be scared.” Her baby blue eyes widen, as she knows what it’s like to be a little scared, especially if it’s dark.


Me: “Yeah, okay.” Knowing the only way he could be in there would be due to her hot little hands placing him in my room. Pulling me along we climb the stairs and proceed to enter my room. Mars heads to my closet, looking amongst my skirts and shoes.


Mars: “He’s not in here.” Looking up at me, loving this game of hide and seek, except we seek that which she hid.


Me: “Well, let’s check your room.” Turning out of my closet I head to her door soon to be facing Mars looking at me with her hand out, stopping me in my tracks.


Mars: “I’ll go look, you stay out here…” opening her door for which she promptly shuts after letting herself through the tiny space. I hear things being opened and closed…then silence followed by the knob slowly turning. “Nope, not in here.” Her tiny face peering around her door and giggling.


Me: “Well, I hope he finds his way back to the pantry, I’m sure he’s missing home…” I descend the stairs then turn into M2 studios, and begin paying the bills.


Mars: Running in exclaiming, “Maman! Look, the honey bear.” Placing him a few inches from my face so that I in fact knew it was the honey bear while she triumphantly smiles like woohoo, I did it!


Me: “My goodness, where could he have been ?”


Mars: “Well, my room, I found him!”


Me: “Let’s put him back in the pantry, I’m sure he wants to return there…” looking at her I see the gears turning in her head knowing this is not the last of the honey bear fiasco.


Mars: “Actually, he wants to put all his honey in my tummy. “ Turning to me seeing if this is something I’d bite as a possibility of a snack.


Me: “Yeah, no…what would you like for dinner?”


Mars: “Skabetti with honey” nodding her head as if proud of her thinking of such a thing.


Me: “Have you ever had spaghetti with honey?” Trying to contain my laughter.


Mars: “Maman, it’s like you say…you just have to try…” giggling as she knows that’s not what I mean when using that phrase.


Me: “How about something else on your spaghetti?”


Mars: “Okay, cut up broccoli.” Turning she then shuffles into the kitchen placing the honey bear back in the pantry. While I silently wonder how I can get more honey in her diet without it being guzzled or a condiment for her skabetti.