I drove my little self over to the neighborhood elementary school today and wrote Drew’s name down on a sheet of paper. The paper said, “I want my boy to be in Kindergarten here,” but with a lot more words, and then with the Spanish translation of the words. I wrote his name down approximately…   read more

I always wondered when Drew would utter his first cuss word. Perhaps he would be a teenager breaking off his side mirror at a drive-through while buying hamburgers for a homeless child. Or maybe he would be a young, responsible adult burning his finger on a hot skillet while making bacon for me. Anything done…   read more

If you’re having a bad day, or worse, a bad HAIR day, nothing will cheer you up like Casa’s production of “Rapunzel! Rapunzel!” Cursed with a name that won’t rhyme with anything, a name that calls to mind similar-sounding words like Ra-pulsive (that actress Alison Hodgson sings about in the delightful “What’s In A Name?”),…   read more

If you were to tell me the activities on today’s agenda a week ago, I would have thought that Satan and his worst demons had collaborated on the itinerary. Dentist. Mall. Chuck-E-Cheese. Gordon leaving me at home with Both Things for a two-day conference. Laundry. Even just the first item, Dentist, would have been enough…   read more

As I look ahead to 2013, or, to the remaining 361 days of it, I’m a little nervous. This is the first year in a long time where I haven’t been expecting a baby or planning a big vacation, a move, or a coup d’etat. Sure, there might be a show or two, there might…   read more

As Gordon, the kids and I were walking home last evening from a dusk family stroll, a minivan pulled up to us and stopped. When the window rolled down, the streetlamp illuminated the face of a woman I know from church. Her hair was pulled back into what might have been a ponytail or a…   read more

On the eve of Thing One’s 5th birthday, I am reflective. I’m thinking back to the moment at 9:06 a.m. on January 18, 2007, when, alone and shaking in the bathroom, I discovered that I would be a mother. I told no one, not even Gordon. The day was chilly and rainy; a cold shock…   read more

Even a whole month after returning from Italy, Drew will whisper to me, “Mister Mommy, I missed you so much in Italy.” He says this at night when Gordon is reading to Madeline as I recline on the floor of her room. Drew sprawls out across my chest, pinching the loose skin on my slack…   read more

Drew likes to play God in Madeline’s life. He opens and shuts doors. He calls her name from faraway places. He determines if and when she can have a snack, if and when she should get up from her nap, if and when she is allowed to speak. Drew likes to control all of these…   read more

The short of it is: Drew is still calling me Mister Mommy, our PATS joke still holds water, and Madeline still remembers who gave her birth — despite the fact she has started calling me MOM like a 13-year-old. This began when we called home from our hotel in Rome. The babysitter put her on…   read more