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Their Bad Mother

Last week, I wrote about prayer. I wrote about how prayer – a certain kind of prayer – centered me and calmed me during pregnancy. Mostly. I also wrote about how, in certain desperate moments, I resorted to petitionary prayer, and how petitionary prayer didn’t calm me, how it felt grasping and wrong. I think…

Jasper highly recommends dining al fresco. In a bathing suit. With the good silverware. Any tasty foodstuff will do, but he prefers dirt. Planting soil is ideal, but any dirt will do. (The dirt is lovely this time of year, all the more when seasoned with a little sprinkler water and a lot of sunshine…

It’s my birthday. It’s kind of a weird day for me, now, because it follows so closely upon the heels of my son’s birthday. Also, I’m old, and birthdays are a heck of a lot less fun when you’re old. You know, what with the notable lack of balloons and streamers and thickly frosted cakes…

It’s been years since I’ve attended church regularly – it has, in all honesty, been years since I’ve set foot in a church at all – but I still pray. Not every day, but a lot of days. Usually when I’m struggling with stress or anxiety. It’s a kind of meditation for me. I repeat…

I have a little girl. I adore my little girl. There are about a trillion things that I could say about how wonderful it is being mother to my girl. But today is the birthday – the first birthday – of my baby boy, and so today is devoted to the contemplation of his awesome.…

We first faced this dilemma last year, when we were considering moving Emilia into a more formal preschool, and I wrote about my anxiety over the decision then. We decided against it for the time being, but then the school called us just this past week to ask if we’d consider enrolling her for pre-kindergarten.…

He fought the spaghetti, and the spaghetti won. (This post was supposed to be a Wordless Wednesday post. But Wordless Wednesday is, by definition, supposed to feature blog entries without words. And I have trouble following instructions, so. Why don’t we call this an Almost Wordless Wednesday post and call it a day?)

Jennifer Garner has a problem with the paparazzi. I don’t have a problem with the paparazzi, but then again, I’m not Jennifer Garner. But just because I’m not a major movie star and don’t have paparazzi trailing me wherever I go doesn’t mean that I can’t understand where Jennifer Garner is coming from. Neither does…

For years – since my early childhood – my mother has recounted for me the story of my birth. On my birthday, of course, but also, sometimes, on her birthday, and always, always on Mother’s Day. The day of my birth, she would tell me, was her true birth day, her true Mother’s Day, the…

(If you haven’t already, you can read Part I of this post here.) As I said yesterday, I came to blogging as Alice to a rabbit hole leading to Wonderland. All it took was one link to one mom-blog and I was tumbling, headfirst, into the momosphere. That one mom-blog was JezeWhiz. And the first…
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