In the first six weeks after giving birth, I hauled my completely healthy son to the pediatrician five times while I troubleshot my own busted vaginal stitches and clogged milk ducts and low breast milk supply all by myself. Schlepping his giant, 20-pound car seat from my vehicle to the pediatrician's office, I felt my… Continue reading How the self-care movement’s failing us, and why we need community instead
Lately I’ve been complaining that I can’t write. My previously complex sentences fragment or drift off into vague wishes for an iced coffee or fantasies about a new granite countertops. The brilliant idea that came to me in bed last night slips away by morning, fleeting as a dream. Motherhood frazzles. If there’s no room… Continue reading The things we carry
I work from home, which happens to also be the place I live and care for my 11-month-old baby. When I first had him, people told me that newborns slept for 18 hours a day. 18 hours! I can get so much done, I’d thought. They didn’t tell me that would only be true if… Continue reading The Gift of Exhaustion
I’m alive. So mumming took more of my time than I expected (yes, I can hear you experienced parents laughing now), but we’re sleeping through the night now (trying not to jinx anything here) and I have a little more bandwidth to write. So here’s to posting more in 2018. Also, I grew up in… Continue reading To writing more in 2018! Plus a round-up of my work from 2017.
The morning before the eclipse, all I think about is not blinding my 5-month-old baby. I drape his carrier in a blue swaddle and hustle him into my friend’s house like a body builder carrying a teetering log. I’m terrified that the cloth will slip and he’ll take a wayward, devastating glance at the sun.… Continue reading Flyover state of mind
People kept telling me I didn't look pregnant. At 5 months, my sister-in-law studied the slack of my shirt over my flat tummy. "Can I touch it?" I hesitate. "Sure." There's nothing there but the slight pouch from my slouchy posture, a relic of adolescent shame about my 6'0 stature. Taylor and I attended his… Continue reading Vessel: thoughts on motherhood and the body
Let me first say that I love Meryl Streep as much as the next person. After all, no one else flings a skillet full of potato in the exact style of Julia Child like she does. Or channels the glacial air of Anna Wintour with such compelling ease and confidence. But at the risk of… Continue reading A place for outsiders? Meryl Streep and Hollywood’s self-proclaimed inclusivity.
