It doesn't happen often. She's eight ("and a half, Mom") now, and growing more independent. Well, as independent as 8-year-olds go. But when it does, it halts me. The feel of her hand in mine. The little soft fingers wrapped around my wrinkled adult hand. Innocence and purity secure in my protection and love. I'm not good at living in the moment, being emotionally present at all Continue Reading
Pretty On The Outside But…
Don’t judge us by our Christmas card. We look pretty perfect. Like the quintessential all-American family. Don’t we? The only thing missing in the picture is our adorable, chocolate labradoodle, Gracie, with a Christmas bandana around her neck. It’s a great picture, if I do-so-narcissistically-say-so myself, as the mother in this photogenic crew. BUT... Just because I know how to Continue Reading
The Burn
Inhaler of newborn smells I’m going to burn up this year. My favorite Equinox instructor (and my friend), Rebecca, always tells us, when we are dying in her hard-core fitness classes, that the burn means that change is happening in our bodies. We want that burn. We need that burn. Even if we are screaming and whining like little girls on the inside. She always reminds us we can do it and Continue Reading
That Post Christmas Blah
Some years it hits me. Some years it does not. On December 26th. Or even sometimes RIGHT after the Christmas morning of fun and frenzy and children's delights are all over. Even though I don't believe in Santa Clause or any Christmas magic per se, I have realized my adult self still has this longing and expectation at Christmastime. That somehow a special fulfillment will arrive on Continue Reading
Thirteen
Inhaler of newborn smells His milestone is my milestone. He is 13 today. My firstborn love. Luke Christopher. He is the one who ushered me into the joy and chaos of Motherhood. The uber-special-mother-son bond began after an uneventful labor and one and a half hours of pushing through and pushing out. At 10:50 a.m. on a Tuesday morning he was given to me. I will NEVER EVER forget Continue Reading
Chop Chop
All I wanted was a fresh, sassy haircut. Not the sassy-pants visceral responses from my beloved children. I bravely chopped off my A-line bob, which I had been calling the “mom-bob”. I say bravely, because I am surrounded by women with long to very long locks of flowing, or wavy, or stick straight hair. But still long. I was blessed with very fine hair, and have had shorter hair most of my Continue Reading
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