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Browsing Tag: parenthood

Settling In

I’ve been staring at my laptop screen for the past five minutes, trying to think of something to say. It happens a lot. The blank stares. The empty right brain. I’m outside on the back deck right now, squinting through the sunshine at the computer and waiting for the caffeine to kick in. (David’s gone for work, so I had to make my own coffee this morning. It’s horrible. I make terrible coffee.) Quinlan was outside with me earlier this morning–she, playing with slime, me, eating a bowl of Golden Grahams–and as we watched a distant storm cloud dump rain over our town, she asked me if I’m still an author even though I haven’t been publishing any more books. Ouch. It’s 10:34 a.m. As I sit on the deck, my children–who can now all feed and dress themselves, make their own beds (hallelujah!), brush their own teeth, and do their daily chores with a simple reminder of “remember to go through your morning routine!,” because thank you, Lord, it does get easier–rest on…

Who Needs Confidence, Anyway

You guys. My kids: they’re so sweet and kind and loving–but they need to work on their compliments. Example #1: I’ve stopped straightening my hair most days and am just letting the crazy waves be themselves. I’m still not too sure about living daily life looking like a knockoff Medusa, but the consensus from my girls is that I need to keep it this way, since it’s more “me.” I thought this was a good thing, but… …from Saoirse: “Mom. I like your hair longer. Now that you’re wearing your hair frizzy you should keep it that way.” Yep. Great. Example #2: First, you need to know 3 things: a) Our old house had a pool. We miss that pool very, very much; b) Quinlan loves that I’m a writer. She actually gets annoyed when she doesn’t see me overwhelmed and unwashed surrounded by notes and manuscript pages; and c) Most authors don’t make enough money to quit their day jobs, let alone afford extravagances. A child of one, though, has no concept of this. So… …Quinlan: “Mom. You need to…

And We All Shine So Brightly

Note: I’ve been struggling a lot with writing about my kids as they get older. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve sat down to post something similar to what I’ve written below only to cringe and delete the whole thing because…well, I don’t want to violate their privacy. It’s one of the big reasons for my long periods of silence here: I want to document these moments in our lives–but in a way that means my kids will still be speaking to me when they eventually read them. So please bear with me as I navigate this tricky new part of the road.  *     *     * Saoirse stopped me the other night as I was saying goodnight before bedtime. “Mom?” she said. “When you were in fourth or fifth grade, did you ever feel lonely or left out?” She looked like she was going to cry. I’d spent the day with her on a class field trip, and was able to watch her–quiet, reserved–sitting with or talking with just one friend at a time, maybe…