Ever since I became a mom, I developed what I refer to as a mother tongue. I call every kid that enters my house, “Love,” I utter compilations of words that I never would have imagined go together like, “Don’t …
Starring Sick Mom
Modern medicine didn’t cure me. Treatment followed a few years after I was diagnosed, but instead of turning me back into a healthy, energetic person, it left me (not to mention my family) traumatized and disappointed. Since then I’ve lived …
Soul Mates
“Dad, do you believe in soul mates?” I asked. His eyebrows raised behind the paper he was reading. “Well …” he began. His fingers drummed a nervous rhythm on the tabletop. My dad’s hands were always moving, either pushing back …
Permission to Dream
For years, it was the longing that had no name, the longing that I wouldn’t allow myself to name. Denied, it took on ugly shapes. She must be exhausted, I would think when I saw a woman with three or …
Give Yourself Permission
For six warp-speed hours every week, my youngest son is in preschool. He’s been my constant companion for the last four years, so I’m protective of this time alone. I typically start adding to my “Next Preschool Day” agenda before …
Join the Conversation
A widow, a cancer-survivor and a mother of three with only two she can hold, sing to and rock to sleep – these are the women that MOPS introduced me to at my first meeting. My table was lively, bold …
Permission to Feel What I Feel
Small talk is a curious thing. It is often thought rude not to engage in small talk with strangers, but we rarely strengthen relationships or open ourselves up when we do so. I especially struggled with small talk following the …
On Telling the Stories We’re Too Afraid to Share (And How It Can Deepen Friendships- and Hope)
We met in church nursery – or at least that’s where we reconnected after a nearly two-decade hiatus. Eliza* and I had known each other as acquaintances in childhood, but when our family moved back to my hometown when I …