Ericka Clay

Sunday's

Sunday's I haven’t seen the inside of a church in over a year. I have good reasons though. I’ve spent the past three hundred and sixty-five days wiping ass and cleaning faces, stacking packs of batteries, my cell phone charger, my tampons and the last minute shreds of my dignity onto our kitchen counter just so tiny toddler hands don’t stuff any of these things down a tiny toddler mouth.

Thankful

Thankful We’re selling our house.  And no one is buying it. I’m not sure if you know what it feels like to deep clean your home at a moment’s notice with a screaming banshee toddler strapped to your calf, but it feels exactly like deep cleaning your home at a moment’s notice.  With a toddler strapped to your calf. I’ve...

Serenity Now

Serenity Now I often liken my life to episodes of Seinfeld.  There was “The Summer of Ericka” where I lounged around the house in my underwear and only took to removing my behind from the couch to rifle through the fridge.  Then there was the time when I pulled an

Little Women

Little Women They're all hair, nails, lips slick wet with ripe cherry gloss. They pout and turn on their heels and toes, winking at an audience who are open mouthed, slack jawed. Applauding for more. And they're no older than seven. If you've ever watched a show like Toddlers and Tiaras you've seen the frightful way babies are bred into pint-sized women, shaking their hips...

My Calling

My Calling I don’t have a bountiful womb.  Or maybe I do.  The point is I’m not hell bent on finding out. I’ve wanted to write since I was twelve-years-old.  It’s never been a choice of whether I wanted to or not.  I have to write just like I have to wear a bra with extra padding or pretend I’m not checking myself out in the full-length mirror at the mall when I totally am.  Breathing, eating, taking a peaceful...

The Small Stuff

The Small Stuff I sometimes have this sinking suspicion that God hates me. You know the feeling, you’re at a party, forced to talk to that woman you don’t like and every time she says you look great in that particular shade of vermillion all you really hear is “You look like you’ve gained weight.  And your husband’s a total tool.” Sometimes, I think God and this woman are best hair braiding buddies. This is...

Follow Through

Follow Through I started a writer’s workshop in my area last night.  It’s actually the same writer’s workshop I had started right before getting pregnant but then life smacked me around a bit and I was too busy changing diapers to worry about changing voice in a novel manuscript.  Sure, I’m a little black and blue but the bruises are healing and I’ve decided to keep life from bullying me once...