Do you remember the feeling that you'd get when you were little and the teacher would give you a gold star, a tiny merit badge for a good deed or a good grade?
It's stuck with me for most of my adult life.
When Orion has been fed and loved to bits
and the house is warm and smells like what's in the oven for dinner
and my business is tended to
hides and metals humming for my return on the benches
I get a hankering for those little celestial paper bodies.
The first time I shared my need for a gold star with Anthony I believe it was tearfully,
and I am pretty sure I was pregnant and doing too much.
He was gentle and kind, as is his way toward me, and he told me I could always have as many gold stars as I want, but that it would be great if I could also give them to myself.
Sometimes after I've kicked a major amount of ass I'll think, "Gold star!!"
and sometimes when my ass gets majorly kicked I'll give myself a gold star in humility and
To balance out our inner critics, I think it best to have an inner second grade teacher who is really generous in doling out those little badges of reward.
A gold star for everything, I say.