When I was growing up, I loved to ask my parents questions about their lives. I was curious about everything: how they'd met. What adventures they'd gone on before we were born. If they knew they'd get married the first time they laid eyes on each other. Mostly, I was fascinated by their stories. But … Continue reading On the best day of my life
In Georgia, it's the season of hail like sea salt on the ground, and sunny, sleeveless days. This month I'm grateful for the twinkle lights in my office, that make it feel a little cozier--even with the blinds pulled tight to shield me while I pump. Even more so, I'm grateful for the people outside … Continue reading February
Right now I’m sitting at our kitchen table, and a baby is sitting on my lap, strapped to my chest by a carrier. He’s warm and soft and solid all at once, and his wispy hair tickles my chin--distracting me--as I type. We’ve been parents for over a month now, and I’m still trying to … Continue reading On Parenthood
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 Adulthood
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
