“Mom, you’ve been using that word a lot lately,” Suzy told me. And she was right. Without even noticing how often I had been uttering that verb, I had decided to “recalibrate” holiday plans (due to extended fam illness) and “recalibrate” how and when we went about our Must Do traditions. I recalibrated how much food I really had to cook, and recalibrated how little I could get away doing before I descended into a pile of anxious lists and {Read More}
Middle school, a.k.a How on EARTH…?
September 2, 2021 By Leave a Comment
My firstborn… …Went off to middle school and I have no idea what to write. My firstborn went off to middle school and I have NO CHOICE but to write. (It’s either that or scrub ceiling corners with a toothbrush; who put all of this wild, buzzy, not-fully awake energy into my body?!) Oh, friends. My firstborn went off to middle school and it’s been so long in between blogging times that I’ve forgotten how to write. (In this space {Read More}
Change and gratitude and 41.
June 5, 2021 By Leave a Comment
Here’s a true story as I stare down the barrel of 41. It’s been so long since I logged into this account that I forgot a) my password and b) the new* WordPress format of adding headers, layout, body, etc., etc., etc. (*From maybe early 2020, sigh.) Is 41 old? Is 41 when you start to yell at technology changing too quickly? Don’t answer that. So much has changed here. And so much has changed HERE. At the end of {Read More}
December 31st, 2020, a year that definitely happened.
December 31, 2020 By Leave a Comment
2020 “Oh gosh,” I hear you mutter (from a distance of at least six feet away), “A tidy li’l 2020 wrap-up? You shouldn’t have.” (Really, I won’t.) (Not too much, anyhow.) Because, friends, this year…defies a tidy li’l anything. (And, yes, I state this from a position of dizzying, boggling privilege. Even from this sky-high perch…it ain’t tidy.) At best, it’s been an upending kinda year. At worst, it’s been the stuff of nightmares, the stuff that’s made the noun {Read More}
You are 7. (A post for my tiniest/not-tiny baby.)
December 19, 2020 By Leave a Comment
Dearest Jasper, you are 7. You are 7. You are the tail-end of many, many things. Birth order. Opinion-asking. Seat preference. This is unfair to you, because- the last time I checked- you had very little say in how and when and why you were born, and also how we ended up choosing the Honda Odyssey’s particular layout of seats. It is also perfectly fair, because you are the happiest little guy with whatever you get to eat and whomever {Read More}
Eleven years (of being surprised every single year).
October 29, 2020 By Leave a Comment
Hi Nora, Hey, happy birthday! You are 11. ELEVEN! (What kind of mother sits and marvels at the age her child is turning every single year, like the passage of time isn’t a constant and, well, trackable thing? Your mother, that’s who. Get used to it, kid. Among the plethora of things that ain’t my forte, emotional counting is among the worst.) This blog post feels different than any I’ve written in this space in the entirety of its 12 {Read More}
The story of the puppy.
October 25, 2020 By Leave a Comment
(Because if it’s not documented on the blog, do we really even have a puppy?) I grew up with not-quite-puppy dogs. My childhood was filled with slightly older rescues. Also dogs who were babies before I had entered the picture. And eventually my parents adopted a pup or two after I had exited the picture. P.J. had dogs, too, loyal family pets and veritable baskets full of shiny, licky, Golden Retrievers. But when we moved in together, we had cats. {Read More}
Chicago to the Berkshires, Part 4: WTF Movers?!
August 6, 2020 By Leave a Comment
Part 4. Part Four?! Movers. Here’s the thing about movers. …Why. Why are they like that. (And oh my goodness, we’re SO CLOSE to the end of this saga! Related: Can you believe that I’m still blogging about this nonsense? You should see me in person. Theoretically, if we were able to have parties, I’d be real real fun at parties.) So. To catch up: Our moving “specialists” were jerks with a phone call returnability record akin to my middle {Read More}
