inhale, rise. exhale fold. / stretch float flow / repeat
Whenever I replay it in my mind, the scene starts here: Me at the rear car door, hovering. Him with his head craned back, stalling.
Your hands are raw from multiple washings. In the span of three days, your inbox was flooded with warnings: “School Health Update”; “Office Closure”; “Parenting in the time of Coronavirus”; “Coronavirus in preschoolers: Symptoms and what you need to know.” This is the one that scared you: “Coronavirus updates: More lockdowns are starting.” The St. … Continue reading Contagion
Stolen outside Still Middle School after the eighth grade dance, in the dark. His lips were laced with Dr. Pepper. His body held a trace of Old Spice mixed with sweat.
She // is busy // picking up // pouring out // meeting // needs.
“Mommy and Daddy, are you best friends?” Our son issues the question over breakfast. I chew my Kashi cereal and shoot a glance at Jay, who’s busy draining his coffee. He raises his eyebrows over the mug and for a second, I think he’s leaving this response to me alone. Best friends, huh? We certainly … Continue reading The space between us
Today is my son's third birthday. We started our morning with pancakes and raspberries for breakfast, and he got to open a few presents. At school today he’ll wear a birthday hat and pass out goodies bags to his friends. When our son comes home, we'll celebrate with tacos and cake, then surprise him with … Continue reading My hopes for you
She looks in the mirror violet crescents shadow the delicate space below her tired eyes ring fingers tap cold cream trace new wrinkles etched in the corners and here’s an annoying pimple in her reflection, // her eyes move to her softened belly, once ballooned to carry a baby small breasts, once swelled to feed … Continue reading Beautiful
In 2019, I was constantly in motion. Rising early to beat the call of “Mommy!”; gulping down hot coffee; speeding to school pickup; racing through bedtime stories only to crash into bed, exhausted. My planner — bursting with appointments, birthdays, tasks and deadlines — was my compass. I scrawled my dreams in the margins. I … Continue reading My 2020 intention
The Cut recently informed me that although some people don’t keep a diary, most of us have inboxes that serve as a “fossil record of our lives.” In other words, ancient emails are a window into our stories. Reading this, a small chuckle escaped my lips. I’d been sifting through emails the day prior for … Continue reading Lessons from 2019