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My daughter’s junior kindergarten class had a homework assignment last week: decorate a construction paper cut-out Christmas tree. Not just color it or paint it or throw glitter at it: decorate it. With stuff found around their homes. Emilia takes directions like these very seriously. “I can’t just put stickers on it, Mommy. I have…

Girl: “I am bigger than Jasper, so I could just take his pudding.” Me: “You will not take his pudding. I am bigger than you, so I will enforce that.” Girl: “I was just joking about taking Jasper’s pudding.” Me: “I’m not sure that you were.” Girl: “Knock-knock!” Me: “Who’s there?” Girl: “Jasper’s pudding!” Me:…

My daughter, at the site where we held my father’s memorial, watching the water fall down down down. Me, watching her, feeling the spray of the water against my cheek, feeling grateful to have this place – this cathedral of water and rock and trees, open to the sky – in which to commune with…

Four years ago, my daughter was born. Four years ago, I became a mom. My own mother used to tell me that she considered my birthday as much her day as mine, because it was the day she gave birth, the day that she became a mother. For many years I rolled my eyes at…
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