When You’re Waiting

And now my Amazon suggestions all feature baby and nursery related items. Thanks, Moment of Baby Fever. Thanks for that.

We’re waiting because we choose to wait – together in mutual agreement. That doesn’t negate the feelings I sometimes get, whether you call it baby fever, mothering, nesting, God’s call to motherhood – pick a title. They all basically mean the same thing.

Most of the time it’s really easy to wait. GW and I have only been married a year and are enjoying togetherness. We take vacations and go on trips, we eat at fancy restaurants – you know, in peace and quiet, no distractions, no embarrassments, no screaming monsters of adorableness…

But sometimes it sneaks up on me. I visit my friends who are moms or grammoms and snuggle their wittle bundles of adorableness. People tell me “You’re a natural!” “Is this a sign, hmm?” “Careful! Babies are contagious!” *Hint, hint; wink, wink; elbow, elbow*

And sometimes I go on Amazon stocking up my baby wishlist. Because, yes, we’re waiting, and I’m good with that. But I still have feelings.

This has been,

Fanny T. Crispin

Mind & Body, Raw

Obligatory Holiday Post

It’s been a pretty good season so far, and now as we reflect on the last day before the end of celebration, we pay closer attention to the important things.

Was I kind in the shopping stores?

Did I keep my temper in check?

Have we instilled love and peace into our children?

Do we care not what we get, but whom we’re with?

There have been some pitfalls this year which took a toll on my trust levels. Every day is a chance to experience and learn about human behavior. It’s not always pretty. I’m learning it is not my responsibility to remedy or attempt to coach someone else’s struggles. It’s taking a step back, realizing I am not the mother of the world, and knowing they will be held responsible for their actions.

This year has also been a test of boundaries. I remind myself boundaries had been placed for a purpose, and I am allowed to set them back in place if they teeter or fall. One wants to trust, but one is not obligated to trust.

While I excitedly enjoy all the festivities of this holiday season, I process the pitfalls carefully. In one hand, I do not want to become angry and bitter again, but on the other, I do not have to experience hurt at another human’s hand (or word or deed.) I am allowed to experience peace and forgiveness. I am allowed to fortify barriers and seek protection.

Be blessed, dear reader, and Merry Christmas.

This has been,

Fanny T. Crispin


Needs vs Wants

If high school taught me anything, it’s that I don’t need anyone.


That moment when your author pours her heart out on social media, letting spill a wellspring of emotions and speculations, tangent thoughts, claiming verbs, and resonates so acutely with the reader, the universe weeps.

I’m just not that kind of author, I guess.

Something you may be able to relate to is I was occasionally bullied as a child. I think most people are in some fashion or another. I was ugly and ignorant and not very interesting to the general public girl (or boy, for that matter.)

It always hurt to be excluded from activities. It’s something you can’t force. A teacher can’t make the other kids like you. It just doesn’t work that way. Inviting yourself just turns the whole event sour.

I have found my tribe over the years. We’re a select group of silly individuals. Some of us believe in fairies, some in sports. Some of us are writers, some are tv bingers, but we’re all dreamers. We’ve connected in a judgement-free zone.

Something happened at my day job. It’s been going on for awhile and triggered some deep rooted isolation in my soul. I still feel like that middle schooler some days. And isolation still hurts the same as it did back then.

I don’t need anyone, but I still want to feel included.

This has been,




I’m terrified to throw away her baby, because she loves it so.

There is a remnant of a tail. Really just a bit of string leftover from endless chewing habits.

Surprisingly, it kept both eyes and a nose.

The ears are softly nibbled.

My fur baby has kept this baby doll for a long time. It’s not that we see her playing with it all that often, but the signs of attachment are still there.

We wake up to find it next to the bedroom door.

It will be left in the middle of the floor (as if to keep us company in her absence.)

It wanders up and down the halls at night.

When I was single and it was just Baby and me, I always let her sleep with me. Often times, Baby’s baby would be lost among the blankets, and I would find it in the morning.

Toys have come and gone in this household for the little cat darling, but this one remains. We can’t bear to throw it away. I think we’ve become as attached to it as she has.

This has been,

Fanny T. Crispin