I keep hearing people talk about “good moms,” and I believe it is time to stop that. Here in my house, there is just a mom. That mom is me, and when I acknowledge publicly that I’m actually an awful mother on any given day, all who know and love me are quick to reassure me … Continue reading Other Mythical Creatures
Her words fall softly on my ears, like water lapping at the shore. I’ve heard her before. Different, but very much the same. Her decisions to parent the way she wanted to didn’t work for the baby. Or they didn’t work for her. They didn’t work. She’s got some thing she made up, her parenting. … Continue reading Like Water
This won’t likely be cathartic. (I’m not supposed to open with that. I’m supposed to hook you within three seconds, by showing you this bit of writing will be different.) Writing is the artful arrangement of words. Maybe I’ll have a slightly different spin that feeds your soul just so? Starting with a blank page, … Continue reading Inventorying Your Shit & a New Use for the Bouquet Emoji
I don’t care if you use grammar properly or if you spell every word correctly. I do my best and I make these same mistakes. I don’t care what you drop onto your plate. How tiring to police the food of others. Please don’t judge yourself against me, and I promise to do the same. … Continue reading Effervescence
Photo by Mr TT on Unsplash Go ahead. The rest of us will know where to focus our efforts and conserve energy, for every barrier compels the creative flow of infinite solutions. Look away from the whole long history of racial injustice and make noisy, anemic stories about its irrelevance. The rest of us will know where to … Continue reading Reject the Narrative of White Privilege, Then.
Make a statement of clarity by listening first. Be kind and you will never be lost. You can jump to conclusions and reactions, but you can also jump to the heart of a matter. You have to listen first. You have to make a clearing of kindness–a space that feels safe and just. Clear it … Continue reading Clear
My left trapezius appears to be made of driftwood today. The pain is remarkable, and it’s up into my neck and down into my back. My self care has been interrupted by grief again, that process by which obscene, crushing sadness is simmered and nurtured into something useful. I think. We’re a family in vigil … Continue reading There’s a Point