To My Girls – Now, you are four and eight and as brave and bold as the length of my reach will let you go. You see yourselves as strong, courageous, beautiful and brilliant. You wear what you want. You say what you want. You are who… Read More
We’re sitting at the table, surrounded by a morning’s worth of Valentine craft scraps. Alex is in the middle, tapping his pencil ferociously, fidgeting his feet, shaking his head. I’ve asked him to write neatly. To copy sentences, instructions really. He is writing, over and… Read More
The clock ticked to midnight last night as we drove home, a car full of sleeping, Halloween-sugar-drunk children. The alarm on Vinnie’s phone went off, alerting us to Lila’s Birthday, Location: Princess Land. Is that where we are now? Princess land? There as we through… Read More
Dear Lila: When I die, I want to be holding my two special quarters and be buried with them. And Fluffy Unicorn. And your hands. You said this to me today. It was mid-bath, while I rigorously scrubbed frothy peppermint shampoo in your head. Shampoo… Read More
Out with friends the other night, we quickly found ourselves discussing parenting. Because, when you’re a mom, even a mom who is going out to unwind with her bestest of friends, your kids are with you. Everywhere. Even in Mexican restaurants with spinach queso dips… Read More
I’m remembering back to the terrible twos (when I wrote this) and then to the time when everyone told me, Oh, three is WAY worse than two. Then it was, Oh, no, no. It’s FOUR that will get you. Followed by, Five is where the growing… Read More
We bought ice cream today. Royal Banana Split. Three flavors with three toppings, all in one carton. It’s Neapolitan on steroids with chunks and fruit and chocolatey swirls. It smells like an ice cream parlor when you peel back the lid. Shortly after we got… Read More
Yesterday. Alex, can you please clear off the kitchen table and then wipe it down? Looks like someone spilled milk and forgot to clean it up. Yeah, that was me. I meant to clean it, but then I forgot. Five minutes pass, then ten, dishes… Read More
I remember wooden church pews, wrapping my arm around my mother’s arm and watching her hands as they rested on her lap or turned through the delicate pages of her Bible. I remember holding mine up beside hers and studying the two: large and small,… Read More
Ten years ago, I sat at my desk in my closet-sized office, typing fiction and quickly reopening work related windows whenever my boss would pop in to ask a question or check on how my projects were coming along. I would share writings maybe with… Read More
The Frozen Moon 