Marriage is hard. People who lead you to believe otherwise are hiding vodka bottles in the crawl space or a secretary on the other side of town.
My Facebook game is strong. I have a cover photo boasting a towering mountain range from our last trip out west. There’s a profile pic with three happy children and a smiling husband.
I’m learning to parent like I’m dying. Tomorrow, or next Tuesday, sometime soon. Death is imminent. And really, it kind of is. In the grand scheme of things, the hundreds of millions of billions of souls floating back and forth from Earth to sky, our death is imminent. We are all dying. Every day. Every... Continue Reading →
I left on a Tuesday morning and figured I would find her by noon, somewhere after my second Bloody Mary in an airport bar. She’d been out wandering, but I was finally going to catch up with her. The reunion had been playing in my mind for years, but lately, her face was fading and I couldn’t quite recall the sound of her voice.
When you fail to learn a lesson, the universe tries again. After the unfortunate travel potty incident and subsequent sleepover from hell described in my last post, one would think I could have kept both my butt and my family at home for a while. Instead, I took us camping.
The past two weeks have been a lesson in slowing down. Like most lessons, this is not one I have openly embraced. In fact, I raged against it forcefully, as I often do, and the universe kept busting my chops until I finally conceded.
I am sitting on my couch listening to the slow whine of my youngest child from the other room. It’s 10:30, and he hasn’t quite adjusted back to Eastern Standard Time following our vacation out west. The neighbors aren’t helping. Outside, fireworks erupt in a never-ending chorus of pops and crackles with the occasional resounding... Continue Reading →
We’re back from Belize, and – surprise! – we’re alive. If you missed my initial post “Preparing to Die in Belize,” you missed a whole lot of anxiety over not much of anything, but as a parent, that feels kind of normal. Is that mosquito bite on little Jimmy’s neck actually from a tick infected with Lyme? Is Suzy’s weird Texas-shaped birthmark a sign that she’ll end up a Republican? A week long international trip without my three small children was bound to invoke a little paranoia.