Being Luna Lovegood
I’ve had a bit of a weird jumbly year so far. Not especially bad, but not especially good either. Just last week, one week into the new year, I lost … Continue reading
Preadolescence. It’s a Thing.
Oh my god. Preadolescence. It’s a thing. And I knew this thing was coming. I won’t say this day because it’s more than a day it’s a passage, an … Continue reading
Long Time No Write
Long time no write. Actually, it’s not that I haven’t written in a long time, and certainly it’s not that I haven’t thought the thoughts, it’s just that they’re all … Continue reading
Standing at the Edge
We went for a walk today. It had snowed and was cold but my husband had the car and we needed to get out. Like, get out. They’d been ganging … Continue reading
Women’s March 2018/ (Don’t) Take a Drunk Girl Home
Take a drunk girl home. That’s not a sentiment of mine. I don’t think it’s anything I’ve ever said before today. Take a drunk girl home. But it’s a song. … Continue reading
I Ran Over My Daughter’s Boot (Who’s Responsible?)
I ran over my daughter’s boot this morning. Thankfully, her foot was not in it. We were two minutes late for school, two minutes for which my oldest son was … Continue reading
I’m Learning to Fly (But I Ain’t Got Wings)
“You know which one was my favorite, don’t you?” I asked my husband as we sat side by side last night catching up on Ray Donovan. We’d paused the episode … Continue reading
An Ode to the Second Day of School
The first day of school is a shitstorm of pain. Is it sunny and hot with a chance of cold rain? Why is it so damn early, every year such … Continue reading
Love is the Tarragon
Tarragon. I had never used tarragon before working in a quaint New England sandwich and bake shop in 1994. I didn’t even know what cilantro tasted like or looked like, … Continue reading
The Art of the Lost Hour
We all grow older, grow up, get stinky, lose track of time. We remember, and then we hold tight suddenly, lamenting. There’s nothing to be done about it at all but this, this one hour outside of time, to celebrate, to mourn, to repurpose into something new that we can hang on a wall to remind us of what was.
Labor Day Weekend, Where Did it Go?
Today was the last day of summer, Labor Day weekend, two days away from the start of school. In the morning I headed out alone to the beach with … Continue reading
Read This: Lizzie Bright and the Buckminster Boy
Just now I was crying. I finished reading a book. It was one of those books that makes you cry not just a chokey voice cry, but a real, honest … Continue reading
Happy Jazz Handsy Valentine’s Day
My kids were talking about Valentine’s Day in the back row of the minivan. My five-year-old was beyond excited about the day. They had all been told to wear red, … Continue reading
I Have Conceived a Love
I have conceived such a love for my children that I love whoever loves them well, and most importantly, I love them no matter who they grow to be. There is no wavering on this. There must be no wavering on this.
August is the Cruelest Month
This morning, as my husband walked out the front door, he reminded me that the painters were coming tomorrow and that we needed to vacate the house. They would come … Continue reading
A Dream About Love
I had a dream about my brother Butchie last night. He was wearing footy pajamas, the kind that zip up the front, all fleecy and precious. The kind my children … Continue reading
Pompeii, I Was There
The craziest thing happened tonight. Actually, I should probably begin with a Trigger Warning: for poop and putting your hands into toilets filled with poop. In case you’re eating an egg … Continue reading
Between Sunset and Moonrise
It was that kind of ride north, Tim in the driver’s seat, a crew of children glued to a National Geographic documentary on volcanoes or polar bears in the back, … Continue reading
I Don’t Like 7-Year-Old Boys and Other Zen Thoughts
I’ve recently come to the conclusion that I don’t like 7 year-old boys. As a 43-year-old adult female, this is neither a shocker nor a tragedy. I mean, it’s … Continue reading
Doctor, Lawyer, Indian Chief
I was standing at my usual station by the kitchen sink and Cabot ran by, reeking of lavender… Lavender Soft Soap, that is. I don’t know what her obsession with soap … Continue reading
Cleaning House: The Craft Table
This is the part I wrote two weeks ago: Once a week I take all the recycling piled in the mud room out to the garage, put it in five … Continue reading
A Response to All the Things Our Parents Did Badly
I was standing in Jasper’s kindergarten classroom for orientation and during an awkward moment of quiet I turned to the mother I’d just met and said, “I feel like our … Continue reading
I have a third arm.
I have a third arm. It grows out of my abdomen and it’s turquoise. With a big white four-fingered glove hand. Like a cross between the monsters from Monsters Inc. … Continue reading
