Hey Nora… Today’s your 12th birthday. You know, back in my day of flannels and Doc Martens and Nirvana-listening, “12” wasn’t a crazy milestone. Well, joke’s on me, because your outfit of choice usually involves a flannel, and today you got the prized Doc Martens from your grandmother that you’d been pining over. (Side note- If you had told me in 1992 that my mother would be buying my firstborn combat boots in sixth grade? You’d have to revive me {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}
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 1: Goodbye, first home
July 16, 2020 By 2 Comments
(Today marks three weeks since we arrived at our new home in Massachusetts. More on THAT to come, because hoo boy. But for right now, a surprisingly/not super surprisingly hard one to write. I began this post the week before we moved but had to stop because…I had to stop. Stay tuned. Thanks in advance. Buckle up. Keep hydrating. And, you know, wear a mask.) An open letter to my home: Hey home, I know I’ve said some things in {Read More}
Ten things to know on your tenth birthday, Nora.
October 29, 2019 By Leave a Comment
Dear Nora Jane, I know I usually wax poetic on your birthdays, telling you how much being your Mom has changed me (because it has), and how incredibly wonderful you continue to be (because you do), but today feels a little different. Today you’re ten. Yes, years old. Which means that the wildest adventure I ever began started ten years ago today, which also means that- somehow- you’re no longer the tiny pinched-face potato tied to my chest, and I’m {Read More}
21 things my daughters need to see me do (often)
May 17, 2019 By 4 Comments
21 things my daughters need to see me do (often): My daughters need to see me apologize when I’ve truly, honestly messed up. To my husband, to my friends and, yep, to my kids. They also need to see me: Hold out- and push for- a real apology when someone else has really, truly messed up. (And thoroughly eradicate “no worries” from my vocabulary as an automatic argument-ender when there should legit be some “worries.”) (Stop saying/posting/pre-empting potentially upsetting/important conversations {Read More}
