All in On Motherhood

On love and pain and time: I had birthed a death

I am sitting in a Starbucks off of Main Street. It is Sophie’s third day of preschool, where she will spend 2.5 hours every Monday through Friday for the next 10 months or so. Let’s just say that that gives me 2 hours to myself, given that I will need time to drop her off and pick her up. So that's 10 hours a week. 40 hours a month. 400 hours over the next 10 months, give or take.

The bathroom reader

It was a normal Sunday in October. The 22nd, to be exact. It was gorgeous out, which is to be expected in October. It's the month of perfect weather. I know adults shouldn't have favorite colors and months and numbers, but mine are as follows: green, 8, October. Evelyn and I both share green and, true to stereotype, Sophie loves pink and Theo's favorite hue is blue…

Dragons in our heads

I unknowingly made the mistake of telling Theo that today he’d have a substitute teacher.

He seemed fine the entire car ride to school, but once we go there, he refused to get out of the car. Like, really refused. I subliminally was getting more and more angry and frustrated and mean, making whispered threats through clenched teeth because you can’t lose it completely in the middle of carpool line…

Non-monogamous vegans

My husband became a vegan about six years ago after watching "Forks Over Knives." He literally went from a diet of coke and burgers to tofu and garbanzo beans overnight. He went cold turkey (minus the turkey). There was no process. Just, boom. One day he was a carnivore, the next he was not...

Chocolate Milk

I'm writing. Obviously doing something. Matt is sitting at the table next to me, just sitting. Sophie comes over with a carton of chocolate milk, looks at me, and repeatedly asks: "Can I have chocolate milk momma?"

Hard Things

I sent my oldest child to school yesterday, like millions of other parents across the world. We walked the brisk walk down to the bus stop, the wind whipped our hair. She asked, again, for me to drive her and Theo to school so she wouldn't have to take the bus. All of the sudden she didn't feel well. I couldn't take her that day, the bus had to happen. As the bus appeared at the end of the street, I could see her fighting back tears. She grabbed for my hand and walked towards the bus, even though she didn't want to get on it. I was telling her that I loved her, that I was so proud of her, that she was being so brave, and then I found myself saying this: we can do hard things…

Outside of Motherhood

I have been trying to run away from it, this motherhood thing. Not in a literal sense. Geez. What kind of a mother do you think I am? I don’t believe I would ever actually leave my children. But that’s not to say I love every minute of it. I don’t.

I guess that's the kind of mother I am…

The Importance of Doughnuts for Breakfast

It was a Monday that had started so well. It was Ev’s birthday, and I had told her to wait in her room until I came to get her up. I could hear the two of them squeal and squirm in excitement, Sophie followed their noises and pattered across the floor. I lit her “6” candle and stuck it in a donut. Pajama clad and wrapped in the still waking, blue morning light, Theo and I sang her happy birthday…