The purple bowl with the dopey-eyed lama flies through the air, landing face-down on the hardwood, oatmeal exploding from all sides like an eruption of sticky silt landing heavy in a circumference of at least twelve feet from the epicenter. The unmistakable sound shatters the tantrum from the kitchen table and paralyzes me in the... Continue Reading →
I started journaling. (I hate this term because it reminds me of being told in Sunday School growing up that we should "journal". In practice, I really believe it to be an important tool, but I want to call it something else.) So, I'm going to call it chronicling. Because, I do what I want.... Continue Reading →
Reflection: noun the act of reflecting, as in casting back a light or heat, mirroring, or giving back or showing an image; the state of being reflected in this way. an image; representation; counterpart. a fixing of the thoughts on something; careful consideration When I think of raising my glass in a toast to the... Continue Reading →
I spent this Mother's Day with my sister, our kiddos, and our good friend Andrea––eating, drinking, and talking about life, birth, mothers and daughters, and how motherhood has or hasn't been what we thought it would be. My sister said it best when she said that she knew motherhood would be hard and wonderful. But... Continue Reading →
It is dark in my house, although it's only 4 in the afternoon. There is something about being alone, in your most comfortable place, during a dark afternoon. It's like a magical gift. A light scent of lavender incense wafts through the tall ceilings, circling the balloons -- still clinging to their float from days... Continue Reading →
Sometimes, it still feels like I am in the throws of it all. The pressure, the wincing pull, the relief of breath. It is a constant rebirth -- this motherhood. You came into the world, pulled out with force. Not one push. Just a body, jostled like a wave on a cold, grey slab. Florescent... Continue Reading →
In The Way 