She often naysays new adventures. Always pushing to discover precisely what’s in store. Unknown throws her off-kilter. But life is inscrutable. Most of the time. So I push her. To explore. To rest easy in the not knowing. I wonder if I’m the best teacher, myself a resister of spontaneity. But I’m in recovery from... Continue Reading →
I spent my whole childhood standing around uncomfortably. Waiting for people to notice. Never asking for what I needed. Just standing. Ostensibly to avoid being a bother. But becoming more bothersome in my silence. Today, when it was my kid’s turn in line, simultaneously all adults got distracted. She froze, triggering the moments I’d been... 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 →
A few years ago, in the middle of the most heated, long-simmering, agonizing public situation I’ve ever been party to, a woman lobbed this doozy at me: You aren’t God, you know. My initial response skewed heavy toward the snark (in my own head… or more accurately, much later in the shower—which is where I... 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 →
Sunday morning, the (almost) 10 year old and I puttered about the kitchen. As coffee flowed freely from its pot into my waiting mug, I heard a tentative "Mommy?" I looked up at my child who was peering at me with a look of concern (and maybe a little gentle reproach). "Um... I think you... Continue Reading →
Jane has developed a slight listening problem lately. Don't be alarmed. I'm sure it's not permanent. Symptoms include not hearing me tell her to do something the first (second or third) time, an inability to cut that shit out when I tell her to, and a profound misunderstanding of what "put your stuff AWAY" means.... Continue Reading →
Elizabeth Jane (Lizard, Lizzie Jane, Janiepants, Bug, Bear, EJ, Chicken, Monkeybutt Jr, etc...) is 8 years old today!
I want to control the narrative that my kid receives about sex. And I CERTAINLY don't want her friends explaining it to her...
Know what grace looks like for me? It looks like reckoning with a 1000 piece puzzle. It looks like family. It looks like gratitude.
