Mud Pits & Walls
Nursing my baby like clockwork at four a.m., I rested my head back against the glider and groggily thought how wonderful it would be to have a child born at two years old, so she could sleep twelve hours and
The Older Woman I Want to Be
This morning, I took my two eldest daughters to swim at the YMCA because I did not want to spend the rainy day all cooped up in the house. My girls squealed and splashed as they entered the water. My six-year-old
“I Miss You!”
Our eldest daughter is, hands down, the most affectionate child I’ve ever known. If my husband and I are cuddling on the couch, she is not content until she’s dropped everything and sprawled herself across the pile. If we’re hugging
My Seashell Finder
Last week, a friend sent a picture from the newspaper showing my six-year-old daughter’s kindergarten class of 2030. Out of eleven students, three wanted to be veterinarians, three police officers, two teachers, one a firefighter, and one a scientist. Only one wanted
The Beauty of Flu Season
A few years ago, in Wisconsin, a woman with five daughters said she never experienced such closeness to her children as when she took care of them when they were ill. I remember looking into the mother’s face and seeing nostalgia
Making the Moments Last
This week, my eldest started kindergarten, and my youngest grew out of her newborn sleepers. The fact that my five-year-old once wore her ten-week-old sister’s sleepers (as did her middle sister) made both transitions even more acute. I remember laying
Can’t See Eden for the Fall
My best friend and I stood in the perennial bed in front of her river cottage, looking out over her farm. Ducks waddled and honked as they splashed in the baby pool. The black mare twitched her tail while grazing
My Favorite Day
I don’t even remember how it began. "My favorite day" was just one of those adorable, grammatically incorrect sayings a child utters and her parents cannot soon forget. Since then, I have tried to get my daughters to keep an eye
The Magnum Opus & Motherhood
Sitting up at night with my infant child, my feet rocking the glider on their own, plots begin to stir and thicken as characters bob to the surface in the sleepy cauldron of my mind. Tomorrow, I think, swaddling my daughter
The Truth About “Happily Ever After”
Barely 9 p.m. and my husband and I were sprawled across the bed as if we’d been shot. “I don’t even know what day it is,” he said. “It’s Satur—" I paused. "No, wait . . . it’s Friday.” “I’ll just be glad