Parenting Ain’t For Sissies
I watched the oven clock while washing dishes; my pregnant belly so big that I had to lean forward to reach the sink. It’d been an entire hour since my two-year-old made it clear that she preferred sitting on the Time
Snapshots
Last week, before my two-year-old daughter’s hernia surgery, I found myself taking extra time to stare into her eyes. One of the most vivid encounters happened before nap time. For about fifteen minutes, I laid there beside her on the
My Partner in Life, Not Just in Parenting
Three years ago, I took my firstborn daughter for a walk when it was ten degrees. I bundled her up in an Eskimo snowsuit and wrapped one of my scarves around the lower half of her face, so that you
Parents Passing on the Sidewalks of Life
My four-year-old daughter and I were walking on the sidewalk when a parade of motorcycles started roaring by. With each one, she cried, “Wow!” At first, I smiled, loving her enthusiasm, but after thirty or so motorcycles, it wasn't as
Mothers & Daughters
My husband and I went on a family trip to South Carolina when our firstborn daughter was only three weeks old. I remember walking the beach for miles as my mother-in-law stayed with my newborn back at the condo. I was
I’m Going to Cherish Every Moment (Even If It Kills Me)
I became one of those moms last night, with the toddler throwing herself down across the entryway to the store, causing patrons to pause as they looked from her to me and then back down at her, unsure if they
Shedding Our Papier-mâché Skins
I scooted over, to make room for my daughters on the bench, and my sandals brushed black, orthopedic shoes. I glanced to the right and saw the disabled man, slumped in the chair, with a pair of dark sunglasses and
Balancing Motherhood & Artistry
This Wednesday, while hiding in the bathroom, I tried to call local libraries and bookstores to line up book events for The Alliance, but my girls (four years old and nineteen months) couldn’t stand being separated from me. So, they pounded on the door and twisted on the handle until I had to open it and usher them inside. The three of us stood in front of the sink, looking at each other in the mirror, as I continued to wait on hold. A few hours later, I received an extortion letter that required me to sit on the floor while a stranger told me how much I (allegedly) owe. Needless to say, Wednesday was not my favorite and had my husband praying before dinner, “Thank you for this . . . day.” And then he opened his eyes and grinned at me across the table because, in that pause, he'd purposefully omitted the word “good.” But then, as my husband and I were tucking our eldest into bed, she looked at me and said, "Did your book camed out?" I titled my head. "My book?" She nodded in the dark. "The one with the plane. Did it camed out?" I touched her chin. "No, not yet." "But your other ones camed out?" I smiled at her, my throat tight. "Yes. two." My husband and I looked at each other across her pink comforter, and the stress from the entire day just melted off me. I could tell by my his smile that it had melted off him too. Sometimes, if I’m just honest with you (and what's the point of all this if I'm not?), I wonder if I’m making the right choice by pursuing an author career while my children are so young. I wonder if, otherwise, I’d do more macaroni crafts, read more books, be more patient, bake complicated, raw-food cookies that my children actually like. What if--once my
“Mom! Look at me!” Learning To Focus On My Child’s Face
For the past few months, I've noticed that my almost four-year-old daughter, Miss A, has a floating eye. It usually only happens when she’s tired or so into a story—where expressive hand motions abound—that she has trouble focusing on my
A Lesson From Tolling Bells
I was in the park with my daughters this week when the courthouse bells chimed, announcing that it was twelve o’ clock. My heart constricted with a strange longing, and though I at first had no idea why, I soon