In our busy, modern lives, there isn’t much space for our brains to function free from stimulus. There’s constantly something: a text conversation with a friend who lives across the country, a quick perusal of Instagram, a podcast we’re listening to, a book that we’ve just picked up. Dinner to be made, dishes to be … Continue reading On Training Your Brain
When I was a kid, I used to play at being an adult (as most kids do). My friends and I set up imaginary grocery stores where we’d pretend to check items out. We’d dress up like doctors and nurses. We’d chide our “disobedient children” as we pulled sweaters over our dolls’ heads. And we’d … Continue reading On How Adulthood is Basically the Sims
There is a series of events each morning that can usually set my day up to be a good one. They include getting up with my alarm, having time for tea and coffee with Jordan, and not having to rush around like a mad woman. However, our actual mornings only go that way about half … Continue reading On Routine
The older I get, the more common the pregnancy and birth announcements become on my Facebook: pictures of newborns swaddled in blankets, tiny baby shoes posed next to bigger adult shoes in the same style. Clever puns with spaghetti sauce (Prego, oh boy). But there are a few friends and acquaintances who have made baby … Continue reading On Not Wanting Kids
You know those mornings when you wake up before the alarm, and the windows are still cloaked in cool nighttime colors? This is one of those mornings. Yesterday was almost one--I woke up before my alarm, but then I succumbed to exhaustion and closed my eyes again. That's the fatal mistake. It sets you up … Continue reading Gratitude and un-Gratitude: August
From the time I was sixteen, I pictured having a daughter. Somehow it had never occurred to me that I might have a boy--it just didn’t seem like an option. Boys were for people who had brothers growing up. I have a sister. When I used to ask my mom whether she’d wanted girls or … Continue reading On Having a Boy
I’m sitting at our old wooden table right now. There are wine stains on it, and flour has been permanently scoured into its surface. The cats use its legs as scratching posts. This table had a generic start: in an Ikea store in Minneapolis, but over the years it has collected memories. I kneaded my … Continue reading On Minor Miracles
