Sunlight slices through the night, washing the world in color.
Small graces on a fall morning
motherhood
Why I write
Why do cicadas hum? / Why do chickadees whistle? / Why do coyotes cock their heads and howl / in the vast darkness?
God only knows (a sonnet)
Where can we get a baby? / my son asks, his blue eyes piercing / in the morning's heel.
Portrait of one mother
She // is busy // picking up // pouring out // meeting // needs.
My hopes for you
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
My 2020 intention
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 dance
They call it the longest, shortest time for a reason, yet every time I glimpse you teetering between boyhood and babyhood, I’m startled. Like at baby Chloe’s birthday party, while she investigated her first cupcake from her high chair, you begged for a slice of watermelon cake. You licked up the green icing and tore away … Continue reading The dance
On writing through motherhood
The blare of my alarm snaps me out of a dream. Eyes half-shut, I roll over to silence it, then consider my options. If I get up now, I can write. Maybe. There’s always a chance I could wake my son, a light sleeper, and lose the gift of time. Or I can sink back … Continue reading On writing through motherhood
Let it be love
“Wait, you still have to stay in his room at bedtime?” she asked, a hint of pity in her voice. We sharing stories and dinner in my home and my least favorite parenting topic had arisen. “Yeah,” I said sheepishly. “With all his ear infections and our failed attempts at sleep training, he just never … Continue reading Let it be love
Snapshot of a summer afternoon
She clicks her laptop shut and announces, “Well, that’s enough for today.” She considers her son’s laundry basket, the dirty dishes, scattered hot wheels in the playroom. Working is her default mode; she finds it hard to relax. But the sun is shining through the blinds, and there’s a kiddie pool filled to the brim … Continue reading Snapshot of a summer afternoon
