It’s been five years since the flood. This morning as I sit feeding my baby, listening to the noise machine, I can finally say I’m whole again. I am healed. Continue reading
I’ve written every day. For better or for worse, I have done it. It was both easier and harder than I expected. Some days words flowed out of me without delay. Other days, I grasped for something–anything–to write about.
As I fed George cereal for the first time this month, I was hit by something that hadn’t occurred to me until now. This was a last first time. Continue reading
Sometimes I crave adult interaction. After a week home with both kids, I’ve realized, yet again, I am not programmed to be a stay at home mom. I have two modes: go go go or couch potato. Continue reading
He said in passing a month or two ago, next time you go to the zoo, I wouldn’t mind tagging along.
Last night my baby just couldn’t be comforted. He was overtired and just couldn’t calm himself. Continue reading