My girlfriend is a Montessori teacher and she is continually supplying me with small bits of parenting wisdom – a kind, charitable neighbor leaving shreds of lettuce leaves on her patio for me, the boggled spring bunny. Her most recent shred was not a leaf but an entire week’s worth of substance to chew on,
The text came from Ken while I was on the west coast: “Can I put the rock climbing wall in our bedroom?” The rock climbing wall, I’d thought, was a project for later, but I’ve also never been good at predicting the milestones of a child. When Bee received her big girl room, it wasn’t
She: Ending her sentences in a high-pitched whisper, like there’s a surprise, like she’s a rainbow, her final words a pot of gold. Fighting the afternoon nap. Favoring cashews. “Reading” from my devotional at night in our bed, substituting Psalms verses for monster encounters. Memorizing iPhone passwords. Hacking said iPhones, taking 3,000 photos on said iPhone cameras. Naming her stuffed koala “Judes My Husband or Gokey or
Just last week, in the kitchen, where she was still not yet tall enough to reach the pistachios, she asks, “Where’d you guys get me?” “From heaven,” says Ken, one room over, because he comes up with great, short answers, the kind that end in a period. Factual. Truth. A statement. My sentences end in
It started Sunday, with the tantrums. They were not hers, but mine, and they were fueled by a variety of external factors, excuses – too much noise, not enough rest, too much sugar, not enough time – and I had become itchy with discontent. I was on edge, a jagged, barbed wire version of myself
I am not the fun friend, the one you call when your book proposal was just accepted and are in dire need of some celebratory dancing and perhaps Paris. No, I am the friend you call when your book proposal was declined, and your heart is in two, three, four parts and you need some
There are days where parenting- as a verb, as we’ve been told – seems insurmountable. Thick days, stuck days. Where we tip the maple syrup bottle just one more miniscule degree hoping for something – anything – to seep out. And we find that, no, we didn’t keep any morsels in the reserve. We used
I’ve been patiently waiting to announce my latest product design with one of my favorite Dutch brands, but first things first – if you haven’t yet transformed your kids’ closet into a reading corner, make thee a Target run. A few body pillows, a small rug, panel curtains, a tension rod (that moonlights as a