Time travel and being present

The other day, I took the kids to our neighborhood park. They were so full of energy and I was…so not. While they played I perched on the low perimeter wall and played eyeball Double Dutch as the three of them ran from slide to tire swing to climbing structure. But then I saw a mother who was so into what her baby was doing, seeing, feeling, and experiencing at that very moment in that very playground and, instead of {Read More}

Suzy, (soon-to-be) off in the world.

Guys, Susannah is graduating from preschool today. I know, I know, aren’t preschool graduations pretty much the dregs of a Participation Trophy Society? If that’s how early it starts, then when does it end? (…Never. I’m pretty sure the answer is “never.”) That said… It took the ramping up to a pre-k graduation to make me realize one incredibly important thing: Susannah’s not going to be in preschool next year. I know, I know. But- you know? She’s always been {Read More}

I convinced my son to break his pacifier (and other therapy stories).

I’m a horrible mother. I super duper mean it this time. Lemme ‘splain: Jasper needed to kick his pacifier habit. (No, that’s not the reason I’m a horrid parent- will you hang on a second, judgy?) He’s two and a half, already operates at a slight deficit in the whole speechly department, and I think we can all agree that a partially ripped, grubby pink pacifier doesn’t exactly scream “Christmas card photo,” right? It was time to kick the paci. {Read More}

Summertime haikus.

Out of bread by noon Why do kids need to eat lunch It’s called “tapas,” guys. * Oh, working from home Togetherness redefined Please get off my ribs. * Sweet God, so much pee What are you aiming at, child? Potty training hurts. * * Let’s just lay out back. You smell like sunscreen, kiddo. That’s a great cloud shape. * That’s not an outfit Fine, it’ll do for today Jammies forever! * Is that what we do? You need {Read More}

Yanking out the teeth. (A love story.)

I remember my Dad yanking out my teeth. That sounds horrible in the re-telling, doesn’t it? He didn’t whip out the pliers or anything but, after two hours of hearing me hem n’ haw about how loose my tooth was or how gross it was feeling, he’d nod in my direction and ask to have a look. By the time I’d opened my mouth to reply, he’d reached in, twisted the (impossibly tiny) sucker, and thwacked it into the palm {Read More}

The night Nora asked for a tattoo.

I was proud of myself, even though the question caught me off-guard. “Mom, when can I have a tattoo?” My six year-old posed the request and, even though I didn’t really feel like outlining my hopes and dreams and fears for her in the middle of dinner prep, I knew I really didn’t have a choice. The hard parts of motherhood wait for no man’s spinach enchiladas.  So. I stepped up and mothered, dammit. I explained the concept of permanence, {Read More}

The end of Cocoon Days.

When I first became a mother, I had a glorious maternity leave. I knew it was glorious, because I had the knowledge of what factors needed to be in play in order for it to be as glorious as humanly possible. They were as follows: a) A baby who chilled out when held, when in a swing or other baby-holding apparatus, or any combo therein. (<—Out of anyone’s control.) b) A freezer full of food. (<—Slightly more in your control.) {Read More}

Terribly terrible twos.

Jasper got the memo. You know, the Terrible Two’s memo? I always thought that was a joke, an urban legend designed to encourage new parents to cuddle their babies tighter/inspire parents to think sending their kids off to school wouldn’t be all that bad. A handful? Sure! But really, what age isn’t a handful? Susannah hit the “terrible twos” at about 14 months, but hers was characterized by a marked desire to DOITMYSELF. (Which…is still going on, now that I {Read More}