Happily married, mother of two ornery boys, one striped cat and a puppy. They inspire the stories I tell and art I make.
My doorbell just rang. When I answered the front door, there was the cutest little Girl Scout standing on my front porch, alongside her smiling mother. The littlest Girl Scout, with a pixie smile, was dressed all in purple, topped off with her vest adorned with patches earned. Of course I bought one more box of thin mints, because I had exactly $4 cash, and they are my very favorite kind.
February 9, 2013
stepped out the front door
Blue dog tuggin’ to the left
toward his best girl, Luna
she is aptly named
for high in the sky
above the house
where Luna lives
was a glowin’ 3/4 moon
in a lavender tinted sky
next thing I knew
clouds had covered
o’er her beauty
by the time we circled home
that big Blue dog and me
the mornin’ sky was bright
though clouds remain
a fittin’ metaphor
for my life
January 31, 2013
That sweet, two year old girl wanted to go UPstairs, looking for her big four year old brother and bigger twelve year old cousin. She walked into the bedroom and said, “Where are the guys?” I replied, “They are DOWNstairs.”
So, she and I scooched down the stairs on our bottoms, laughing aloud the whole entire way. She led the way to the basement stairs, located just around the corner. I was surprised when she paused at the tippy top, handed me her wooden cars, said “Scared” and lifted her arms for “up.”
As if I weren’t already head over heels in love, with my one and only niece, she looked at me with the cutest grin, and adamantly declared, “Let’s draw!” Oh, I found crayons and paper FAST!
Good medicine. The best kind. Lotsa lotsa love.
~ Aunt Janean
January 12, 2013
just in from last walk of day with Blue
he saw his best girl, Luna
her silver fur gleaming
under a starlit sky
Orion was shining low near the horizon
they woofed, pranced and nuzzled noses through the chain link fence
a divider
keeping them apart
I told him it was time to go
but had a helluva time dragging him away
she’s his best girl
and even prettier by the moonlight she is named for
they’ll both dream sweet dreams tonight
it’s more than puppy love
‘cause I’m a hopeless romantic
and I just know
they are meant to be
for it’s written in the stars
though sometimes star tales get crisscrossed
these two are meant to be
Blue + Luna
forever
December 11, 2012
just me
standin’ on sidewalk
while Blue dog plays in a pile o’leaves
we’re walkin’ soon
temps are downright balmy
wind is breezy but not gusty
I’m rockin’ my aqua and brown cowgirl boots
tucked into tapered jeans
got a little jiggle in my walk
the good kind
turned 41 on Saturday
it’s agreein’ with me just fine
Blue is outta the leaves
and off we go
boots and paws on the sidewalk
made it across the street
so Blue could see his best girl
…Luna
December 3, 2012
Dear Sad Girl,
Your eyes have lost their sparkle.
Must be those dark circles, detracting and subtracting the twinkle from your eyes, the windows to your creative soul.
Your face is set and sullen.
That grin that once was impish, now set in a line or hangin’ inside down.
Holy hell what a mess.
I know it’s hard now, in this moment, but we’ll get you through this.
Someday soon Faith, Hope and Love will heal the wounds within.
Keep on going.
Day by day abiding.
The loving arms of friends and family will catch you when you fall.
So try to find your smile.
Savor Joy in the quiet colors of the dawn.
Pep talks are FREE and plentiful.
Hugs are often the best medicine.
Love is the easy part.
Start by being gentle with yourself.
Love,
Me
November 17, 2012
My favorite part of today’s Art Club, with 16 students in 3rd-5th grade, was hearing one girl say on her way out the door, “I wish Art Club could be every week.” Today they drew continuous line self portraits with a black felt tip marker. No erasing was possible. Then they added color with washable Crayola markers. I made one too. *happy sigh* Now it’s time to store their artwork in a portfolio, clean up the scattered supplies, move tables and chairs, and finally head home. ~ Janean
“you’re on my optic nerve”
by Janean M. Baird
9” x 12”
marker
November 1, 2012
We were canoodling when the phone rang, cutting off the music we were dancin’ to.
It was my mother saying, “I’m on my way.”
He said, “I don’t want to see your tears.”
I replied, “Then don’t look.”
There’s no time to kiss them away.
Gotta get my composure, blow my nose and grab my sunglasses to walk the dog.
Our sweet pup, Blue.
Met mom on the sidewalk.
Chit chatted and smiled sorta bright.
Held his hand when I came back in.
Assured him it was the tenderness that did me in.
I’m a girl.
It’s how I’m packaged.
Sometimes they are happy tears.
November 1, 2012
Dear Reckless Girl,
You met my husband yesterday at work. He was on patrol, so that’s not necessarily a good thing. He told me about you, in the late afternoon stillness of our house, on a Sunday afternoon. No names. No identifying data. That’d be confidential and it still is.
I’d been sort of napping, while the dog woofed, the phone rang and the children were next door, at the neighbors. I kept my eyes closed as he told about how you were woken up rather abruptly on Sunday morning, after a wild night of partying with college boys, yet you’re still in high school.
I listened. I heard. I thought back to over 20 years ago. Some things never change. Damn it. Why can’t they change for the better?!
Why can’t teenage girls, with a woman’s body and a girl’s heart, have enough self esteem and strength of character to resist this cycle of drinkin’, flirtin’ and gettin’ naked when the weekend rolls around?! Today’s Monday, and you’ll be sittin’ pretty in your high school honors classes, perhaps whisperin’, grinnin’ and gigglin’ with your best friend about your wild child escapades.
Next weekend will be much of the same. It’s a cycle. An ugly one. A hurtful one. It hurts on the inside, where no one can see. You’re hurting yourself, not those you are rebelling against. You. You’re hurting you.
What seems so fun in the moment is just a temporary escape. The dark of night only lasts so long, to hide your secret self. In morning’s light you’re still you, with effects from the night before lingering as a reminder.
You did those things. Now, face yourself in the mirror. That’s right, look into your eyes. Yep. There it is. Just as I thought. Hurt and brokenness, covered up with sass and feigned bravado.
I don’t know your name. You don’t know mine. But I know your teenage heart that yearns for true love, and your mixed up head that’s so smart in book learnin’ durin’ the week and so foolish in choices made on the weekend. Some things never change. Damn it.
It’s up to you. You have to break the cycle. Oh, it won’t be now. You’re having too much fun…or so you think. But someday, instead of drinkin’ until you’re so trashed you don’t care who you get busy with, you’ll meet him. And odds are good that it won’t be at a bar or a drinkin’ party. He’ll love you for your head and heart and well, as a bonus he’ll think you’re kinda sexy too.
For now, just think about it. I hope you have good friends. The kind who can tell you when you’re being too reckless, even for them, to hang out with. The kind who know the whole ugly truth but love you anyway, because they just do.
Love,
Someone Who Cares
“I’m trying to step on my shadow.”
~ my favorite quote from the soccer sidelines on this sunny Saturday
I overheard a brown haired girl say this to her parents, who had their eyes fixed on the field beyond her.
No one noticed the purple clad, brown haired woman, with red highlights recently added, smiling quietly to herself as she walked past, on her way to another field, where her youngest son is playing.
September 29, 2012
