The month after I had a baby, I couldn't figure out how to go to the drug store. My parents had finally left after staying to help with Jackson for the first week, and then returning a few days later after I started sobbing on the phone during a casual update. Taylor was back at… Continue reading The grace in need
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
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
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… Continue reading Leo: snapshot of a small grief.
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… Continue reading Planting: a millennial’s guide to motherhood.