Snow. Mortality. And the art of staying open.

There are times my life feels a little . . normal. And there are times it feels like the universe cracks itself open just for me and goes, LOOK LOOK LOOK. Don't you dare forget how magical this is. I don't believe in coincidences, everything is connected by invisible threads. You can chose to see…

I didn’t think it would be this hard.

Back in the dark ages when I had little kids, there wasn't the internet to go to for parenting advice. You pretty much drew on your own upbringing and either emulated it, or fought against it. I did a bit of both. By the time Steve and I parted ways in 2002, things were picking…

letting go.

I've written about this before, when Taylor went off to college. This isn't a new subject, to anyone, myself included. I still remember vividly, watching Taylor walk into her first dorm. The truck unloaded, the pictures taken, the hugs goodbye. Her casual walk off into her new life. My tears on the drive home. But…

Human. Be(ing).

Last night I couldn't sleep. I was exhausted. I had one of those days where I felt ineffectual and frustrated and all too hyper aware of every single thing in the universe. I went home and went to yoga and tried to calm my mind but it wouldn't stop. During shavasana I couldn't quit running…

Just what I needed.

Last night I did something I haven’t done in a really long time. I went out and met some new friends for drinks. I became online acquainted with a really great couple through a friend awhile back, and the four of us met up. We (the couple and I) are all beer people and the…

Peonies.

I have few childhood memories. Peonies are one of them. We had a whole line of them down our backyard along the fence. The backyard was immense when I was a child. It took forever to get from one side to the other. I loved to walk along that long row of Peonies and smell…

The carpet is blue.

This is my sisters room. The carpet is blue. I picked the room closest to the stairs, with access to the attic. But I'm jealous of her two closets and copious sunshine. I don't want to want my room and her room too. But I do. I scale the back of the house. I find…

Mothering.

My main goal in mothering, was to try to not be my mother. I'm constantly measuring my aptitude as a mother against the yardstick of disfunction. My goal of all time spent with my kids is to have them leave feeling loved and liked and valued. Sometimes I think I spend so much time making…