A Poem

Something thoughtful for the week ahead. — Marie Howe, “Hurry” We stop at the dry cleaners and the grocery store and the gas station and the green market and Hurry up honey, I say, hurry, as she runs along two or three steps behind me her blue jacket unzipped and her socks rolled down. Where

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Preparing

One of my oft-asked questions about Scout’s adoption is this: How did you prepare Bee? The answer is layered, of course. Buckle up, if you’re of the curious type. — I will first offer the ubiquitous disclaimer that having children does not make me, by any stretch, a parenting expert. I know very little about

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Small Step No. 05

My friend Jeanie is an expert in parenting strategy, having studied child psychology in grad school and learning a thing or two from her own six(!) vibrant, boisterous kids. I’d long admired how she manages to set high expectations for her kids without constant nagging, bribes or ultimatums, and a few years ago, she spilled

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Tee Time

Tee season, check. Bee is 100% a tee-and-leggings gal (dear apple, meet your tree), and I’m often asked where our favorite modern kids tees hail from. Here’s the thing — tees are tees are tees. Whether you’re snagging them from Goodwill and garage sales or ordering them from your favorite international boutique, it matters not.

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Paper Worms and Playtime Hacks

Well, I’m certainly no expert on winter survival with small children in tow (my yellometer often creeps up in these dark, cold months), but I’m determined to learn. Below, my tried-and-true playtime hacks – a few spins on everyday activities that have been keeping our home (relatively) peaceful, fun and busy: Read a book backwards.

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Spine Crackin’

You want inspiration. Insight. Advice, wisdom, a lifetime’s worth of perspective, and you want it served in one tidy spot to lap up in five minutes or less, no? You could try meditation. Prayer. Call a mentor, perhaps book an elusive five minutes with your therapist. Or you can sneak into your kid’s bedroom and

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The Cheek of a Mother

I’m at the dentist. The hygienist Deb and I are making small talk, which means she’s talking and I’m nodding, mouth wide open, trying my best to nose breathe. Book’s out, right? she asks. Ehh hehh, I answer. She talks of her new granddaughter, reminds me to floss. Asks me about Scout, how he’s attaching,

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A Birth Story of Sorts

con·trac·tion kənˈtrakSH(ə)n noun 1. the process of becoming smaller. a shortening of the muscles occurring at intervals before and during childbirth.   Scout, as we know him, had his first contraction in a corner table at Wendy’s. Two Frosties, two singles (one, no onions). Large fry. Extra ketchup. Could you ever adopt? a boyfriend asks

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