I remember the very early days of motherhood as endless and exhausting. I had this gorgeous baby that I’d worked so hard to bring Earthside. And she had so. many. needs. She was an easy baby, I suppose. As if that is even a thing. But it is humbling and terrifying to realize that much... Continue Reading →
Her palm-sized mary janes pump back and forth, each leg secured in a square hole, holding on to the bar, examining me carefully. I smile behind my mask and wave. Then I lose the thread. Her tenuous attention shifts. I’m alone in the checkout, suddenly mourning my daughter’s toddlerhood. Hard, long hours. Battles of wills.... Continue Reading →
No one talked periods in my house growing up. Here's what I remember: being about 8 years old and climbing around in the backseat while we were making the never-ending drive from South Florida to North Florida to visit my grandparents (y'all, Florida is an exceptionally l-o-n-g state. Those drives went on until the second... Continue Reading →
When I was a kid, being a woman seemed like some sort of secret, mystical state that one entered into when they were, say, 16 or 17. Like maybe I'd go to sleep an awkward adolescent kid and wake up graceful, beautiful, and smelling like Estee Lauder Youth Dew. Who really knew how it would... Continue Reading →
In the evolution of parenting, we've recently entered the tween zone. It's a strange land, filled with Caboodles, lip gloss, ill-applied blush, and an obsession with all things unicorn and glitter. It's a liminal stage. For us and our 9 (and a half) year old. There are things to be celebrated, for sure: a newfound... Continue Reading →
When I arrive back home from my daily sojourn to deliver books, Jane meets me in the kitchen to regale me with tales from her day. Or to stand there repeatedly asking what we're having for dinner. Either way. Earlier this week, she proudly announced that she'd struck a deal with her father wherein he... Continue Reading →
Elizabeth Jane (Lizard, Lizzie Jane, Janiepants, Bug, Bear, EJ, Chicken, Monkeybutt Jr, etc...) is 8 years old today!
This is Sam I Am. I love him. But we had a falling out earlier this week. I'm trying to forgive. Really. But he's an elf. He has ONE JOB. I just need him to do that job. Is that too much to ask?
This is my life, RIGHT NOW. Because, good or bad... it's fleeting. I'll just stay where my feet are & take it as it comes.
Mothering is sacred work. I pour every ounce of goodness & light I have into this child. But what about the broken parts of me that need mothering, too?
