I am, somewhat annoyingly and slightly concerningly, a serial loyalist when it comes to most things in my life. Many of my routines from young adulthood are still intact, my best friends are the ones I’ve known for decades, my husband and I are rolling towards 19 years together. Hell, I still have my cherished and battered blankie from childhood tucked into my closet— a prized possession that I am absolutely grabbing in the event of a fire. And that same stubborn loyalty ring

At the age of two, we decided (aka made the financial mistake) to introduce our son, Sam, to snow skiing. I remember sitting him on a bench in the rental shop while a snow bro sized him for tiny boots and skis, remarking that he was the smallest kid they’d put on skis that season. We were in Snowshoe, West Virginia, in late February—half the runs closed after weeks of rain—but I was determined to get him on skis just once to see how he’d react. At first, he scrunched up his f

I struggle with where even to start. The words pile up inside my heart and behind my eyes, but all that comes out are shallow breaths and stinging tears that blur my vision. In the bedroom, I stare at my phone—shocked, disbelieving—at what I’ve just watched. My ears ring with the echoes of screams from the video. What the hell has happened? Where are we right now? How is this happening? From the other room, my daughter yells, asking if they can have lunch. I snap back. It’s S

Author note: This post talks about a pregnancy loss from several years ago. Please take care in reading. I lost a pregnancy. I lost my would-be child. I lost a part of myself that will never come back. I blamed myself. I failed at the most basic biological function of my body. I failed. I failed. I failed. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ I’ve inherited many traits from my mother: my eyes and nose, my musical inclination, my stubbornness, my obses

It’s December 26th—do you know where YOUR  Christmas spirit is? Because if you’re like me, it’s buried somewhere among plastic packaging, discarded tags, and boxes that look like they were torn open by hyenas, all stuffed deep down into giant trash bags tossed out back. Don’t misjudge me—anyone who knows me knows I am no Grinch. My love of Christmas has held strong over the years, from the magic and anticipation of childhood Christmases, through the simpler yet sparkling Chri

Remember three and a half years ago when I said I was starting a blog? We were coming out of a global pandemic, living in a changed and battered world left in its wake, in the most hostile political and social environment since Vietnam, and it just felt heavy all of the time . I'd been writing myself through it and thought that starting a blog would be a good way to process the shared human experience of living in completely surreal and unprecedented times... Man, was I optim

I had my annual visit to my OB-GYN yesterday. Now, before you think, "woah, new girl, TMI!" it's not that kind of post. As women, most of us are used to walking into the OB's office once a year. We don the over-washed, less than flattering hospital gown, bare a few minutes of discomfort and go about our day. You don't give much thought to those visits to Dr. Downstairs because it's a few minutes a year out of our lives and, like many other things, something else to check off

Like a lot of people these days, I feel like every day is the same as the one before it. Being already a type A personality, I find almost an obsessive compulsiveness to my daily routine. Wake. Check Facebook. Make bed. Put on sports bra and leggings. Go to kitchen. Make 6yo's water bottle and snack for school. Fill water bottle. Pour coffee (cold brew, always cold brew). Get 6yo ready for school. Wake 2yo and get her dressed. Get 6yo on bus. Drive 2yo to preschool. Come home