Trapped in my life.

Picture this. It’s Mother’s Day. And I’m sad. Like, really sad. And kind of mad. But I don’t know why. I mean, yes, I’m freaking ravenous (slightly long story) so maybe it’s that but it’s not really. That doesn’t build the tears behind my eyes or the scream in my chest. That didn’t create theRead more

Personal style is a journey (with or without Birkenstocks).

My mom wore Birks when I was a kid. My aunts did too. It was the only shoe I probably could name and I saw them on many people (think, early 90s) and my mom had them too. As I grew up I realized this would only happen when something was fantastically made and comfortable,Read more

#momwrinkles

I posted this picture on Facebook and Instagram this weekend. Actually, on Valentine’s Day. I commented on how big my second grader looks, both in general and specifically with her hair pulled back. And then I looked at the picture a bit longer. And I commented: #momwrinkles. It wasn’t a slight on myself in theRead more

That really important thing I didn’t learn in social work school.

This post came to me last night as I was flirting with sleep. The past few months have tortured me in a way I’ve struggled to put my finger on or put words to. I am constantly looking inside myself to figure out why I care so much, why I am holding on so tight,Read more

Thoughts on Both Sides (those Mommy wars)

When my first daughter was born, I pretty firmly identified as a stay-at-home mom. It was somewhat lucky I could reproduce my way into an occupation, because I was a full-on twenty-two year old mess before that. For the first two years of my girl’s life I was with her basically day-in and day-out. YouRead more