Part 5: The Light

“Is everything OK?” I asked Randy in a panic. It’s one of the clearest memories I have of Juno being born.

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Election Baby

This boy made us parents on Election Day 2014. I’ve always viewed his birth and its relationship to Election Day as a harbinger of good things — the start of our next trip around the sun together seems inextricably linked to each election season’s spirit of renewal, resetting, refreshing. I hope that take always rings true.

In kindergarten this week, Moses and his friends also had an election. The candidates were cupcakes and donuts. Donuts won handily, thanks in part, no doubt, to Moses’ tireless campaigning for the obviously better choice.

Happy birthday to our big kid and good trouble-maker. We love you like crazy.

Moses vs. Vegetables

I haven’t written a single word about vegetables in the year of our Lord 2020, so I’ve decided to retire from food writing and hand over the reigns to my successor. Read More

Unicorn Baby

For the third time in about as many months, we’ve schlepped our kids across the country and asked them to sleep in strange rooms, in strange beds. Moses would dispute that this is a big ask on account of the fact that he’s thrilled to be sleeping on a foldout couch in an airport hotel, watching planes take off all day from the top floor of a building with glass elevators, with rooms dispersed around what can only be described as a track, which he has lapped no fewer than one million times. His body has been vibrating with excitement since 47 days before this trip. I know because we counted.

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Part 2: And Then the Rains Came

I recall exactly zero details about how we came to know I was pregnant. I was still in a fog from having just become intimately acquainted with medical terms no person with access to the Internet should ever be in possession of, and while miraculously turning up pregnant should have cured my depression overnight, it didn’t, not exactly anyway. I was happy, or maybe relieved is more accurate, and I managed to forgive that bullshit fertility doctor who called me old when I am fresh and shiny as the morning dew, but I wasn’t over the moon. Edges were soft; a hazy sheen muted the good times.

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Meet Cute

Ten years ago today, this hippie skied wildly through an inch and a half of snow down his slightly sloped front yard on a wintry March day in Atlanta and landed his run — for better or for worse — smack in the middle of my life.

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We’re Working On It

We’ve been visiting our families last week and this week, giving our 2-year-old some dedicated, quality time with his grandparents, great-grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins. First we saw Randy’s family in South Florida, and now we are with my family in South Georgia. To get from there to here yesterday, we took a six-hour road trip with a toddler. Read More

“Or Else I’ll Forget” Friday

I’ve been plugging away at the birthday list and am pleased to report I am on target for accomplishing just shy of an eighth of the list before I turn 38. The crux of my “writing to remember or else I’ll forget” practice is the writing and remembering or else part, and so here we are. Welcome to “Or Else I’ll Forget” Fridays, a not-at-all regular series wherein I try to remember what the hell I’m doing with my life.

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A Word on Co-Parenting

“I can’t wait to read about this experience after it comes out of the spin cycle.”

That’s the last thing I heard Randy say as he disappeared into the lab, wrestling both a toddler and the giant bag of tricks I brought with us to distract Moses from the sword being aimed menacingly in his direction. I cowered in the corner of an adjacent file room, near Moses but out of his sight, plotting our escape. Read More

Let’s Talk About Me

Since I became a mom, I have fallen prey to the one tragic thing I heard happens to some moms but never believed would happen to me, and that is the almost compulsive urge to put someone else’s needs first, before my own, all day err day. This is antithetical to my whole existence and it’s frankly a pretty cruel characteristic of parenting. Read More

10 Things You Will Learn in Your First Year as a Parent, If You Are Me

Although my son is a mere 9 months old, I am writing about what we as new parents learn in the first year because then I get to pat myself on the back for posting this ahead of schedule, which I would have done anyway because I’m a mom and I can do whatever I want. I reserve the right to amend any and all lessons learned this time next year when we’re on the backside of toddlerhood, but for now, on the backside of infancy, this is what we know. Read More

I’m a Mom

“I’M A MOM.”

That’s my defense for anything amiss in my new life. It’s a seamless and natural way of excusing my inadequate short-term memory and hygiene. Read More