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 →
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 →
