Listen, I know it’s terribly unpopular for writers to talk about how they write because everything should be effortless to a reader, but you guys know how I feel about effortless. And so, I’m going to talk about it. Whenever I feel really, truly convicted about something, I want to share it that very moment.
Well, here’s a question I’m asked near-weekly: How do you navigate the balance between your child’s privacy and sharing your perspective of motherhood? And how do I? How should we? What about the kids? It’s my favorite question. I love it for a slew of reasons. I love it because we’re being mindful. I love
I have a short list of things I wish I’d done in my 20’s (respected my more-amazing-than-they-are-now thighs, interviewed a slew of grandparents, backpacked through Europe). It’s ridiculous, really, because I couldn’t possibly have mustered the energy to do any of them. What I wanted to do in my 20’s was what I actually did
Did you know emotions only have a shelf life of 90 seconds? That’s it. 90 seconds. In less time than you can walk to the mailbox and back, in less time than you can clip your fingernails, in less time than you can sauté an onion, your brain has effectively rid itself of the very
So, hair. Can I just say something? I love you guys. You let me chat about politics one day, tension on another, and then – haiiiiiiir. I mean, we’re all over the place in these parts, and do you yet have a glimpse into what it’s like to be Ken? We’re doing a good job
For a brief spell last year, I stopped reading books. (It was terrible, as you can imagine.) I don’t know, I haven’t figured it out really. It’s just that I was writing a lot and felt spent, so I wanted to fill up on something really, really good but couldn’t get into anything, not really,
This election, man. We’re crumbling, aren’t we? The tower we’ve built for ourselves – America the beautiful, America the great – is beginning to crack in the corners and really, we all know it’s not going to take much to knock the whole thing over with our heels. I’m trying to choose careful words here,
You know, you take one lovely spring walk on a 64 degree day to carpe diem or whatever you want to call it and – boom – you wake up the next morning with swollen eyes and an itch in your throat. Alllllllergiess!!!!!!! Tis the season. Ken and I get crazy allergies every.single.year, and yet,
