Three things I know to be true: We are wildly imperfect beings. We hold a great many contradictions. We are fluid, ever-changing, ever-trying, ever-adapting. Another thing I know to be true: We are killing each other. — I have read that there are two sides here: the oppressed and the oppressor, and that to remain
Well, it happened. Bee wakes up early, I make coffee, she asks for craft time, I say sure, and while I usually know better, while I usually use this sun-streamed quiet hour wisely, while I usually reach for a book to read while I cook/burn the eggs, while I usually greet the day with my
As a kid, I faithfully attended summer camp year after year. My friends and I’d pile into a 10 passenger van with a reluctant youth leader behind the wheel, all of us belting songs in a decidedly off-key loop: Alice the Camel, Do Your Ears Hang Low. We’d pass Pringles from the back to the
A real thing I said to a girlfriend last year: I think I’ll wait until next year to start volunteering with Bee. Toddler help is sometimes not helpful, you know? A real thing Bee said to me this year: Mom, can we make our neighbor Bob some lunch and take it over to his house
Oh, you homeschool? my barista asks. Bee and I are camped out in a corner sofa working on a reading lesson, a flaxseed bar in her hand, a lavender latte in mine. For now! I say. For now! is always my answer, my standard go-to. After all, this is preschool we’re talking, so the stakes
Here’s the funny thing about time, for us. We weren’t given a lot from the gate, or at least, it hadn’t seemed like it. As a new bride, I was determined to make the most of what could perhaps be a short marriage. We packed sweaters and books into Rubbermaid bins, stuffed our pillows in
We’re at the home of friends, and we’ve been given a quintessential summer night in the Midwest. Salsa on the dinner table, tortilla crumbs at our feet, Moscow Mules sweating in bright copper mugs. Later, there will be sticky marshmallow fingers, peed pants, an impromptu shower, a borrowed t-shirt. Later, the mosquitoes will arrive around
Did you know seahorses turn around and change colors because they love each other? We’re together, Bee and me. We’re sitting on the deck, surveying the garden, checking the strawberries, watching her pinwheel circle around in blues and pinks and yellows. She is, per usual, feeling chatty. Really? I ask. Really! she says. I learned