Eight?! Oh, Jasper Callahan, on Sunday you will be eight. That doesn’t seem like a real number when applied to you. Why? Well, for starters I think we can all agree that I have real, real brain/heart block when it comes to my children, and secondly, “eight” is the age I still apply to Nora in my mind’s eye- keeping you at a firm four. And that’s the problem, isn’t it? My darling third, even on your birthday I can’t {Read More}
12: Yep, a milestone.
October 29, 2021 By Leave a Comment
Hey Nora… Today’s your 12th birthday. You know, back in my day of flannels and Doc Martens and Nirvana-listening, “12” wasn’t a crazy milestone. Well, joke’s on me, because your outfit of choice usually involves a flannel, and today you got the prized Doc Martens from your grandmother that you’d been pining over. (Side note- If you had told me in 1992 that my mother would be buying my firstborn combat boots in sixth grade? You’d have to revive me {Read More}
Suzy is ten, and the world has been warned.
October 4, 2021 By Leave a Comment
Ten. Ten is two whole hands, two high fives and, when necessary, two clenched fists. Ten. Right now I’m listening to Lindsey Buckingham’s cover of the Stones’ “She Smiled Sweetly”- a song I put on your Spotify playlist shortly after you were born. (Wowzer, file THAT one under Tell Me You Were Born in the 2010s Without Telling Me You Were Born in the 2010s.) Susannah Mae, this song couldn’t be more you. You’ll take care of it. You’ll smile {Read More}
You are 7. (A post for my tiniest/not-tiny baby.)
December 19, 2020 By Leave a Comment
Dearest Jasper, you are 7. You are 7. You are the tail-end of many, many things. Birth order. Opinion-asking. Seat preference. This is unfair to you, because- the last time I checked- you had very little say in how and when and why you were born, and also how we ended up choosing the Honda Odyssey’s particular layout of seats. It is also perfectly fair, because you are the happiest little guy with whatever you get to eat and whomever {Read More}
Eleven years (of being surprised every single year).
October 29, 2020 By Leave a Comment
Hi Nora, Hey, happy birthday! You are 11. ELEVEN! (What kind of mother sits and marvels at the age her child is turning every single year, like the passage of time isn’t a constant and, well, trackable thing? Your mother, that’s who. Get used to it, kid. Among the plethora of things that ain’t my forte, emotional counting is among the worst.) This blog post feels different than any I’ve written in this space in the entirety of its 12 {Read More}
9: A post for Suzy, one of her very own.
October 4, 2020 By 1 Comment
(…Because when you’re the middlest middle who ever middled, “your very own” anything is cause for celebration.) 9: Dearest Susannah, Usually, I write you an open bloggy letter of sorts on your birthday. Usually, it’s filled with musings on the past year, hopes for the future, and high fives for our present. Usually, a year like the one we’ve had is not our “usual.” But wait- before I get completely ahead of myself- happy birthday, dear Suzy, happy birthday to {Read More}
Six.
December 19, 2019 By 2 Comments
Oh, my dearest boy. Today you are six. Today you are home sick. (Today you are home and really sick. So we’ll keep this one short-ish, yeah? Yeah.) Last night before bed you informed me that you were going to wake up in the morning and, first thing, look in the mirror. Because you knew what to look for. A certain “six” mentality, maybe, or another inch of Big Kid growth. Your Dad read you a book and, upon its {Read More}
Ten things to know on your tenth birthday, Nora.
October 29, 2019 By Leave a Comment
Dear Nora Jane, I know I usually wax poetic on your birthdays, telling you how much being your Mom has changed me (because it has), and how incredibly wonderful you continue to be (because you do), but today feels a little different. Today you’re ten. Yes, years old. Which means that the wildest adventure I ever began started ten years ago today, which also means that- somehow- you’re no longer the tiny pinched-face potato tied to my chest, and I’m {Read More}
