Maybe you’re like me. Maybe every day in some way you feel like a newly fallen turnip. A rookie. A beginner. A little wet behind the ears. When I had a baby, I glanced over my shoulder to discover regurgitated breast milk dripping down my back. That’s when everything — not just motherhood — seemed a little more important. A little more up in a ponytail. A little more up in the air.

Posts Tagged "beauty"

Beauty Will Be

February 2015 Sometimes, when I catch a glimpse of my daughter’s caterpillar eyelashes and see her mouth pull wide in joy, my heart melts all down the front of my shirt. There is such beauty everywhere. Such heartbreaking beauty that pours me full with equal parts joy and heartache. The warmth of a big bell,…   read more

She’s Three. Help. Me.

Tonight Madeline snuggled with me on the couch 45 minutes after dinner. Still wearing her princess dress and fresh off a crying jag caused by a run-in with Drew, she was done with the day. So was I. After a 12-hour drive home the day before from Colorado, I was still feeling fuzzy, disembodied and…   read more

What’s in A (Nick) Name? I Shudder to Think…

There was a time when I thought nicknames were limited to “Honey,” “Darlin’” (no g, ever), and “Sugar.” Those were the ones I heard my grandparents use the most, and it was sort of lovely to be lumped in with all the other Darlin’s in the family — that no matter who you were, you…   read more

My Kids Belong on “Downton Abbey.”

It might just be that I am obsessed with “Downton Abbey,” but I really think Drew is developing into a British aristocrat. First, he has begun speaking in the third person. “Drew would yike a cup of yemonade, Mr. Mommy; Drew is scared; Drew went to the yittle park yesterday.” His speech therapist says he…   read more

Here We Come a-Chattering

(Chatter Letter from the editor, December) Whenever my high school choir would get too rowdy and loud during the month of December, our director would punish us collectively by making us sing all eight verses of “Lo, How A Rose E’er Blooming.” An old-fashioned English Christmas carol, “Lo, How a Rose” is an undisputed classic,…   read more

Watch The Road

(Chatter Letter from the Editor, August): The other day I noticed Madeline in the back seat of the car. I was looking at her in the rear view, and I couldn’t help myself. She was beautiful, smiling, alert, taking in the fly-by world from the comfort of her Graco. I was driving down I-30 toward…   read more

How to Savor

Last week Madeline put a plush red strawberry up to her mouth and chomped a juicy mouthful right out of the center. Drops of strawberry juice made trails down her chin as she mashed fruit flesh — open mouthed — between her four little molars. Tiny tributaries coursed down her forearms towards her elbows and…   read more

Yoga Bear It

Today was a just-get-through it kind of day, and I’m almost embarrassed about how light and momentary all my little trials really were. I could make excuses about monstrous PMS or the first time swimming this summer with Both Things, or about the rain waking One up from his nap or about monstrous PMS (did…   read more

Waxing Intellectual

Recently I have become so busy that my personal hygiene and grooming have suffered. I was in my dressing room at the theater wondering where on earth I should start once the show closed. Pedicure? Roots? I stroked my mustache and pondered. Then I figured waxing should top the list. Madeline doesn’t have these inclinations…   read more

Parking It

From the swings at our neighborhood park, you can see the medieval-ish silhouette of Saint Stephen Presbyterian Church. When Gordon was a young Boy Scout, his troop met in a small house on the church property. Gordon remembers they all called it “Fort God,” and it’s easy to see why: It was dusk on Monday…   read more