Dear Bee, When I lived in Los Angeles, I would ride my bike to a local coffee shop to work on writing projects. This was in the early days of blogging and I was convinced I’d pen an ever-so-slightly-embellished memoir about spending my college years in the thick of a formidable religious organization that was
What we learned when we caught the family flu…
Dear Bee, We are experiencing the weirdest season together. Yesterday I was watching you move our office furniture around (future interiors stylist, called it months ago) and I realized just how comfortable I am with you, how normal you seem to me. You seem like – dare I say it – my daughter. Like you’re
Dear Bee, You’re starting to teach other children bad habits. Sunday, I took you to church for our annual Hanging of the Greens and dropped you off in the nursery to play with fabric food while I stacked Christmas trees and stringed (strung?) ornaments and sipped cocoa. It was a magically delightful night of community
Dear Bee, You wake up before the sun now and your father nudges me in bed a few times before I realize what’s going on. For a moment, I struggle to remember that you exist, because in my mind, I’ll forever be an eleven year old sleeping on floral sheets surrounded by a few stuffed
Dear Bee, We’ve been spending a lot of time together, you and me. Last weekend we took our first solo road trip to visit my parents so your dad could have some uninterrupted time to work on home projects. Want to know something cute about your father, Bee? He’s a doer. I’m a sitter/thinker/dreamer, but
Dear Bee, Do you remember the night of your birthday party a few month ago? The night with the roasted corn and homemade guacamole, unusually cool temperatures and a quilted-together guest list of family and friends and loved ones? As the party ended and you grew tired, your grandmother suggested we roast marshmallows and tell
Dear Bee, It’s sometimes easier to write these letters when I need a break from you. And let me be clear: I don’t need a break from “you” you – the you that is Bee Loechner, a force of fun and charm and sensitivity and surprise. I need a break from the parts that come