Of lists and things

Of lists and things

I don’t blackberry or i-Phone. I make old fashioned lists in ink. Often on my hand. Things I need to remember to do, deliver or prepare. They seem important at the time I write them down. But by the end of the day, after bathtime, bubbles, shampoo, soap and...
Of lists and things

Your oxygen mask comes first

I was three when I took my first international flight. I was 18 when I did my first international trip solo. I don’t know about you, but that was the last time I paid attention to the in-flight safety instructions. Since then I have lost count of the number of...

Prince Charming’s Not a Fairytale; He’s a Myth

When my husband grabs our sons amidst shrieks of delight and tackles them with love and outlandish wrestling maneuvers en route to bed my heart wants to jump out of my body and do the happy dance. He is their hero. I love that they get that. But he was mine first,...

Surfacing

Sometimes I forget that inside this skin lives a woman who was not always a mom. And she needs to breathe too. This weekend three old friends visited and they helped me catch my breath. I didn’t even realize how long I’d been holding it until I exhaled...

Attack of the Killer What-Ifs!

I sit in the late afternoon sun and watch my son load leaves onto his tractor. The same son who told me in no uncertain twenty-two month-old terms last night “Ear, Hurt. Docka.” It was late. The local pediatrician’s office was closing. We would have...