Your husband is recovering from pneumonia slowly. He is tired. He is stressed. On his desk are stacks of envelopes, invoices, important-looking papers. His birthday is in eight days, and you wonder if you should shelf the celebration for a better time. (There is no better time.) — You text the wives of his friends:
If given the option, I’m prone to take the practical route each and every time. The simple one, full of convenience and ease. Less fuss, less mess. Bake a cake from scratch or order pre-made from the local bakery? Search three stores for a replacement hair dryer or Amazon Prime it? Shear your own dog
It’s a question I’m asked often. Why don’t you share the kids’ faces? Their real names? Why aren’t you showing day-to-day stuff on Instagram Stories? Why such extreme boundaries from someone who writes online for a living? I get it. Swapping stories and “Me, too”s is an important salve in this life, one that has
When I was (very) pregnant, my friend Asha bestowed on me the most wonderful gift. It wasn’t baby shoes or swaddle blankets, or the latest calming belly balm, highly unlikely to calm/balm anything at all. Instead, it was this: Asha taught me how to feed my family. Her email: When the schedule balance tips toward
(Start here.) I’m a denim girl through-and-through, both for their ease and durability, but when summer starts to shift into fall, I find myself reaching for a welcome substitute: linen trousers. WHY? Call ’em cropped pants, or culottes, whatever you’d like. The fact remains: they’re the single-most versatile replacement for denim I’ve found to date.
To chore, I say. — Early this spring, Bee began campaigning for a fish. Actually, nine, she says, for swimming together. My hesitations were many. More responsibility for our kids often means more management for us, and with two kids, two dogs, two jobs, we were fresh out of any available management margin. She’d be
It began with the car accident. The parked car in the street, the U-haul ahead, a pick-up truck peeling out of his driveway with less-than-desirable visibility. I swerve, thinking of course I could clear the parked car to my right. I could not. I scrawl a note with a sincere apology, my contact information. Scout
(Start here.) My criteria for a mid-summer essential can be summed up in three words: comfortable, easy and fully washable. Sticky banana stains and rogue finger paint are not unlikely in these parts, so I’m continually steering clear of the dreaded Dry Clean Only label. And with frequent walks to playgrounds, parks and neighborhood haunts,
