I love my children. If the need ever arises, I would sacrifice myself for my children. No question. But, until that day comes, I am not a doormat or a chauffeur or an enabler, or a martyr to their cause. I’m reminding myself of this,… Read More
Our morning routine has slowly unraveled into a morning meandering. Alex wanders in and out of my room as he checks tasks from his list: Word Problems over oatmeal – done. Reading Comprehension – done. Chapter of reading book of his choice – done. Language… Read More
In the kitchen, Evaline is laying on a flattened cardboard box on the floor with a marker-doodled, naked, baby doll. She murmurs excitedly and I catch a word here or there as I stand by the sink, stirring my coffee. Look, my castle! I love my sister. Oh,… Read More
When she came to my bedside last night, in the early hours of the morning, I felt her before I could see the shadow of her carved out against the black. In the bed, she stayed closer than close, arms around my neck, forehead to my… Read More
It’s nine in the morning and I walked out with my camera to see the aftermath. Because I’m nosy. Because it was the house just on the other side of my neighbor. Because I was awoken by a barking dog and a curious husband and… Read More
I believe you make all things new. It’s spring, and though I awoke to drizzle and ice and fresh snow on my lawn, I believe still in the newness of the day, in the warmth of the sunlight, in the hope of new, green, life… Read More
It’s March and it’s inevitable. Here, in this space of the year where we are holding our breath, waiting for the sun to return, for the snow to melt, for the world to move toward warmth and light, here, the echo of the hand of… Read More
It’s eight in the morning and the dishes from taco night are still piled in the sink. I skate across a pond of spilled orange juice. I see Evaline, dressed as Belle and clenching a fistful of juice-drenched tissues. The kids had a sleepover last night… Read More
In the kitchen, Evaline is wearing a blue tank top, carrying a naked baby doll in one arm and a purse over her shoulder. She is in shorts, in February, because I am too tired to have that fight one-more-time. As I hear her feet… Read More
During one of the cabin-fever snow days of this month (which has had so many, I am losing count,) Lila came to me to ask if she and I could do each other’s make up. I had not showered, had no desire to have little… Read More
The Frozen Moon 