If you’ve ever moved from anywhere to anywhere, you know that it is quite a disorienting endeavor. If you’ve ever moved at the beginning of your third trimester, you know that it is the EXACT OPPOSITE of everything your body is telling you to do. Every hormonal cell that exists in your system is like, “We must ARRANGE THINGS! Organize things! Sanitize things!” But at the end of today, my house looked like this. Continue reading
The first time I took Peaches to the day care she loves, she was six months old and could barely sit up unassisted. As I left her there on a floor mat, wobbling between two cooing grandma types, I couldn’t even make it to my car before I burst into embarrassing sobs. The women at the front desk definitely cringed a little. Six months is way too young to leave a baby, I thought, hiding my eyes behind massive sunglasses, and for more than a little while I resented having to work.
But as Peaches grew, she learned things. Continue reading
Full disclosure: most of the time, I kind of love being pregnant. (If you are now gagging yourself with a spoon and grappling for the red X in the corner, that’s cool. No judgment.)
But you know what? Pregnancy is incredibly weird. And by that, I mean that it is incredible, and also weird. The “incredible” factor generally involves various epiphanies containing the exclamation, “My body is capable of what?!” And the strangest part is that it exists within these two extremes simultaneously, this insanely awesome thing which is also the most unfathomably bizarre thing.
Allow me to attempt to fathom. Continue reading
Although I secretly-just-a-little-bit hoped Al would botch his interview, he didn’t. He aced it. The Company extended an offer that was confusing for us: while one component was much worse than we expected, another was more promising than we had ever thought possible. After a great many
arguments discussions, it became clear that he wouldn’t be able to live with himself if we didn’t at least counter. So we countered. And now we’re waiting.
Yesterday, we took a break from all that to focus on something that should be even more important: our second child. Continue reading
Sometimes, in our most painless, pleasant moments, I flash-forward to a time when a teenage version of you will inevitably hate my guts. It invades your toddler sweetness like a storm rolling in over waveless waters.
My parent-friends tell me that a whole lotta attitude is actually just around the corner, but I’m not talking about the indignant cries of “NO!” and the terrible-two temper tantrums. I’m talking about theveryinstant you turn thirteen and become a sassy pants and I will want to rip that look right off your snippy little face. I was a teenage girl once, too. I know how it goes. Continue reading