I don’t often write about my job in much detail here, but I had a moment recently that struck me, both as a photographer and as a mother. I was at a wedding, waiting for the bridesmaids to make their walk down the aisle when… Read More
It’s Mother’s Day weekend and I don’t want to do sappy, tear-jerky, Hallmark card worthy tribute to how beautiful and trans-formative Motherhood is. Not that it isn’t. Because it is. I just really want to send a big High-Five out to all of my fellow mother-in-the-trenches out… Read More
It all started with Asher, peeing his pants. With Evie scooped up in my arms and my foot already out the front door, Asher came running behind me, soaked through his the-button-on-these-pants-is-too-hard jeans. The bus that brings Lila home from kindergarten (and takes her back… Read More
Hi, You don’t know me, we have not met. I have my undergrad in Communication Arts and my MFA in Creative Writing. I have been published in literary magazines and nationwide, but I don’t find nearly enough time for it these days. I have been… Read More
She says it daily, sometimes hourly. She says it sometimes with whining and sometimes with earnest conviction. Regardless, she says it and I hate it. I can’t. You can, I tell her, daily, sometimes hourly. I remind her, sometimes with motherly exasperation, sometimes with earnest conviction:… Read More
Somewhere, I dropped the ball. At the crucial moment when it curved through the summer air and made its descent toward my waiting hands, I must have blinked or sneezed or let my gaze be caught by something shiny in the corner, because it dropped.… Read More
I feel as though I have been reading a lot of anti-technology, put away the smartphone, the laptop, the Kindle Fire and pick up your kid blogs as of late. And I get it. I definitely do. My children are only children for this moment… 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
Our house is small. We are not Little House on the Prairie, kids and parents all in one bedroom type small, but we are close. And so, as with most small spaces, sounds carry, voices carry, the hushed conspiratorial whispers of my children plotting their… 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 