Tag Archives: motherhood

Nothing

In a lonely room in a little city, He was a magnet A regret A panicked scramble Like all magnets, he responded.   In a little room in big city, He was a thorn A reminder An unwelcome ghost   … Continue reading

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Sweet Sixteen

It’s quite possible that the person that invented the phrase sweet sixteen meant it as an oxymoron. In my experience sixteen has a temper and is a little moody. It’s May 17th and you, my birthday girl, my only girl, … Continue reading

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Twenty.

Dear Luke, It is the eve of your birth, twenty years later. Twenty. In four more hours your teenage years will be completely gone. Dust. Did I ever tell you that when I was in fourth grade, we performed The … Continue reading

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Since You Asked …

I went to my cousin Noel’s baby shower. She is having a girl. Due soon. Luke’s birthday. There were little recipe cards at the shower and we were supposed to write down advice for the parents to be on them. … Continue reading

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Letting Go

Sometimes drawing takes over and writing takes a backseat. I have finished the Greta and the Angels book and and felt pretty good about the drawings, but when the book came, I hated the typeface (Quinn didn’t care). I am … Continue reading

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Suck it UP

Lizzie’s commitment to volleyball has started to rub off on me in unexpected ways (I watched Aaron Rodgers make two hail mary passes and even though I had to Google “hail mary pass” I can now say I have officially watched … Continue reading

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Quinn’s Song

Lately, when I tuck Quinn in bed, I sing to him. Sean’s been working all night and the older kids tend to be plugged in or never around (or, sigh, living in Seattle), so there are no critics to be … Continue reading

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Blink While You Breathe

I have just settled into my seat at Starbucks with the plan of a 2.5 hour grading session while Lizzie is at practice. This image of the kids popped up on my screen. I scrolled to a similar one of them … Continue reading

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The Neglected Slice

“I love you. You’re my breathing castle. Gentle, so gentle, We’ll live forever.” -Richard Brautigan I teach students how to write artist statements. I teach (TRY to teach) them how important voice is in writing, especially when writing to colleges who … Continue reading

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Dream a Little Dream of Me

Luke left home and I didn’t tell you. I left you hanging. I forgot, somehow, to mention that I cried all the way to the airport (tears triggered by this hug goodbye to Quinn): I cried so much when we … Continue reading

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