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. … More 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 … More 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 … More A place for outsiders? Meryl Streep and Hollywood’s self-proclaimed inclusivity.
I was in the kitchen multi-tasking my way through an elaborate quiche recipe. I sizzled bacon, caramelized vegetables, leaned my body weight against the rolling pin as a crust began to take shape. When I heard the doorbell, I felt a little thrill of anticipation. Maybe I was getting an early Christmas gift or a … More Leo: snapshot of a small grief.
I still remember the sinking, stones-in-the-stomach feeling that came over me when Atticus Finch lost the trial defending Tom Robinson. I’d been in bed with my covers huddled around me in the chill of my converted basement bedroom when I broke into hot salty tears and ran off to find my mother. I’d never read a story like To Kill A Mockingbird before, a story where the bad guys won. I kept waiting for Scooby Doo and Shaggy to pull off the masks of the thieves and reveal their scruffy faces, red and cowed. I couldn’t believe that moment in the story never came. … More The Audacity of Need
I’m a millennial to my core. I fall in the correct age range. I took a year off after college to accumulate “experiences.” I completed a degree in theology which, as my grandmother keeps reminding me, will never come to any practical use or gainful employment. Like every 18-35 year old with their parents’ Netflix … More Planting: a millennial’s guide to motherhood.
For me, the phrase “writer’s bock” fails to capture the phenomenon. Block implies that there is inspiration idling somewhere in my brain; it just can’t run the proper channels to my fingertips. The term “writer’s block” gives my blank, Twitter-grazing mind far too much credit. I have just finished a year of hospital chaplaincy work … More A Net for Catching Days