Foisting Childhood Regrets Like a Boss

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 →

Wistfulness

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 →

Her Timing is Always a Mystery

Parenting is largely intuitive. Right? Or am I doing it wrong? Because this really feels, for the most part, like a fly-by-the-seat-of-your-pants endeavor. It's not so much the "where do babies come from?" conversations... those big ones are expected. You kind of get to plan for those. And, honestly, for us that one was easy...... Continue Reading →

Being a Girl in the World…

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 →

Ground Control…

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 →

Dance, I Said

If I were to run smack into my sixth grade self right now, my first thought would be, "Oh, honey." And then I'd get straight to work helping me be slightly less of a dork. The problem was that I just had no clue. Other kids were a little like aliens to me. I didn't... Continue Reading →

Now, What Happened Again?

Sometime around 6th grade or so, I got ahold of The Diary of Anne Frank. And suddenly, my world was awash in both the goodness and insight of a 13 year old European Jewish girl from forty years ago and the abject horror that human nature can unleash. Both. At the very same time. I,... Continue Reading →

How Does She Manage This Stuff?

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 →

Doing Hard Things

Somehow, I beguiled the 9 year old into taking a run with me yesterday. Well, actually, it was more like a directive: Put on your running shoes. Do not lay on the floor and cry like last time. That will not work this time. Pull it together, Tina, and let's go. (Yes, we totally call... Continue Reading →

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