Grief is sneaky. And it can only be kept at bay for so long. Above all else, grief wants to be felt. To be dealt with. Grief wants you to sit right there in it. Some stupidly beautiful TikTok song that Jane played for me on our way to the Little Tart for a before-school... Continue Reading →
My 12 year old sent me shopping to buy her an outfit for her Valentine’s Day dance. This child has not let me dress her since she was 18 months old. This is a rare privilege, brought to me by a weekend full of (minor) illnesses that kept us (mostly) at home snuggled on the... Continue Reading →
In an exceptional display of undying love and infinite magnanimity, the soon-to-be 12 year old allowed me to play a Chicago song this morning on the drive to school. In an exceptional display of undying love and infinite magnanimity, the soon-to-be 12 year old allowed me to play a Chicago song this morning on the... Continue Reading →
Mornings are a barrage of talking, negotiating, finding lost objects, and hurrying the sixth grader out the door. How getting her to the bus stop on time requires rushing in any way, I have yet to puzzle out. She gets up at 6:45am. The bus arrives at 8:45am. Should she be able to fashion her... Continue Reading →
I’m going to have to get a life, in order to let my kid live hers. That was my big (tough) take away from the two emotionally fraught weeks leading up to her big middle school debut today. Jane handles new situations with aplomb that I envy. For real, my sixth grade self is so... Continue Reading →
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 →
