It’s a road on my GPS, a small curving line on a map, surrounded by greens and yellows. But to me, the words reads like an escape: Berry Patch Lane, a wondrous place that smells like sweet strawberries and where time slows down like an… Read More
Oh My Dear Bean, You wrote on the wall last night – the recently and beautifully repainted wall. A series of windows in shades of green and yellow crayon running in a line beneath the windowsill. While I was in the other room, explaining the… Read More
It’s the season of wistfulness, of light lingering past the children’s bedtimes, of wilting dandelions in jelly jars on my counter top and evening baths to wash away the fine silt of a day spent outdoors. It’s the season of things to come – summer… Read More
We were leaving the grocery store and I was that woman with the three small children draping themselves over the sides of the carriage, arms flailing, heads tilting back, wild cries belting up to the heartless, cloudy skies. Pulling up to the van to unload… Read More
Who doesn’t love a clean house with well behaved children? And who doesn’t love to always see the scale numbers go down or to always have the perfect wise or witty remark to garner fifty likes and comments on their facebook page? Who doesn’t love… Read More
This afternoon, I had a quick photo to grab for an upcoming wedding, an hour away and on the seacoast. On any normal March afternoon, my children would have stayed in the car and suffered through the length of the ride and my ten minutes… Read More
(Because, I am always nostalgic as I approach my children’s birthdays – a note from last year.) I have watched as the hours have passed today. 9:30 AM – I was walking. My first mile after months of being told not to push myself. Just… Read More
Last night, I stared up at the ceiling of a salon and imagined an expanse of stars spreading out like a blanket over the ocean sky. Tonight, I scraped ricotta and marinara from Evaline’s dinner tray and thought of the nights ahead of me without… Read More
Every so often, I am struck by the great meaninglessness of things. Sometimes, it’s my third trip to the grocery store in one week, the constant restocking of necessities. Bread. Milk. Eggs. Paper towels. Repeat. Sometimes, it’s the empty feeling after watching your team collapse… Read More
Lila is in her bedroom, twirling her fingers through the mop of hair on one of her dolls. I’m holding my teething nine month old and peeking in on her, sitting on the floor, surrounded by piles of ribbons, beads and plastic hair clips. The… Read More
The Frozen Moon 