Ladies. I’ve been meaning to tell you something. I fear we’ve been misleading ourselves. In a cultural sea of mixed messaging – inspirational vs. aspirational, real vs. authentic, truth vs. honesty – I fear we’ve run off course. And today, I want us to think deeply about the road we’re walking. From where I stand,
Hey. Apologies to anyone who has ever asked my age and has received a variety of numbers in the 30-range. I very rarely know my age (I don’t know; numbers have never meant things to me), so I’m forever counting back to 1983 and my math skills are fuzzy at best. But. I just used
Sometimes, our life circumstances don’t offer many choices. But this mothering gig? It’s littered with choices. And Mama, I think you’re making the right one.
This morning, may we brush our teeth in gentleness, flossing with a taut line from Plato: “Be kind, for everyone you meet is fighting a harder battle.” Rinse in confidence – swish – spit the doubts – splat – and watch them swirl into the sink. Let them go.
Two is a sudden burst of verbal growth, stringing together sentences like, “Mom! Put down that poop and give me a huuuuuug.” It’s a continuation of hoarding, blocks and snacks and stuffed animals, everything, all at once and right this moment, please and thank you. It’s a newfound love for broccoli and an insistence that
When we lived in Los Angeles, friends from far and wide would come “visit us,” which – let’s be honest – meant “enjoy an L.A. vacation with a free couch to sleep on.” We’d cart them around to various trademark posts: Hollywood, Malibu, the hills of Palos Verdes. We’d hear the same phrase, over and
It’s Monday, and the words are few but the inspiration is high and these Paul Jung images are just hitting the right notes for me today. I know minimalism is trending high these days (thank goodness – simplicity is a serious ideal this lazy girl can get behind), but I’ve always wondered about the people
One of my good friends just gave birth last week, and OMG I nearly had a panic attack on her behalf. It seems most mothers I know stand planted in two single-file lines: those who love the fresh scent of newborn babies and find them endlessly intoxicating, and the mothers who have panic attacks on
