The boring ordinary

The boring ordinary

We sit in an exhausted circle of pink shag carpet on her hardwood bedroom floor. Spent. The nebulizer is humming and I’m holding the little fishy shaped face mask to her mouth. Her sweaty cheek is pressed against the crook of my elbow and her curls are tickling...
A promise for my daughter

A promise for my daughter

I’m tired and she’s tired. And she’s been weeping with frustration, her face a smudge of red cheeks and snotty trails. I go down on my knees beside her little, chubby legs. They’re curving over the edge of her green froggy potty stool and she is glaring...
For Zoe. On the occasion of her second birthday

For Zoe. On the occasion of her second birthday

Where to begin? How is it possible to have two children and still not know all there is to know about being a mom? She was unexpected. A secret I unwrapped on the morning of my 36th birthday. A third baby. And weeks later I would learn that she was a girl and it would...