Every mother has, at one point or another, gazed into the crystal ball of daydreams and imagined her eldest son鈥檚 future as an Olympic runner, or a composer whose symphony fills the halls of history, or a movie star sinking his hands into Hollywood鈥檚 concrete, or a sweet, neurotic ...
It鈥檚 the last gasp of summer, a morning that feels more July than late September. My daughter sleeps snuggly in the baby carrier that鈥檚 become an extension of myself, and my son leads me confidently across the park, to His Swing, the only one low enough to the ground for a toddler to ride ...
My son has begun devouring books. One might think, 鈥淎 writer whose son loves reading. She must be delighted!鈥� But I did not write, My son loves reading. I wrote, My son has begun devouring books. The latter is both more dramatic and considerably more accurate. The other night, we came to ...
Since becoming a mom, I鈥檝e had all sorts of cliches kindly thrown at me: They鈥檙e not little for long! The days are long, but the years are short! You need only worry when they鈥檙e quiet! That last one, I recently learned, is just as true as the others. One of my son鈥檚 favorite games ...
I used to talk for a living. Well, kind of. Being a staff writer for the Observer-Reporter or any media outlet requires lots of talking. Interviews are like a game of 20 Questions that, when done well, naturally evolve into what the interviewer hopes is pleasant conversation. My job was to ...
Gray skies from morning 鈥檛il night. Snow, the kind that blusters about a while, but doesn鈥檛 settle. And cold, such cold! One feels chilled just peeking out the window. It was not a day for venturing outdoors, so my 14-month-old son and I spent the morning inside, imagining the most ...
