The One With The Intro


Last night, I stayed awake until 4 a.m., working. Then I stayed awake until 5:32 a.m., the baby asleep in the infant jogger instead of on top of me, and the emptiness of my arms, the open space on top of my chest, feels so alien that I can’t settle down. We all stay up […]

June 23, 2017

The One With The Second Suspected Miscarriage


Six years ago, I had a miscarriage that rocked my world with the simple, straightforward grief of it. The unexpected loss of potential we were only just beginning to process. The depth of feeling for this being who was barely bigger than a grain of rice. The ocean of tears I cried every night for […]

October 23, 2015

The One Where I Look Like My Mom


When I got my two year old out of the shower this morning, her teeth were chattering with cold. Once I had her dressed, I wrapped her up in the big blue blanket. She let me hold her there for five minutes or so, not moving, not talking, just looking up at me with the […]

September 21, 2014

The One Where I Cried About My Dad


I always wondered what I would do when my dad died. I imagined various scenarios over and over in my head, through the years where we didn’t talk, and the years where we did, and I could never quite get a clear picture of it. Would I even cry? What would it feel like inside? […]

September 10, 2014

The One With My Truth


Roland let me die. That is the truth. I still love him. That is the truth. When is a door not a door? When it’s a jar, and that is the truth. Blaine is the truth. Blaine is the truth. What has four wheels and flies? A garbage truck, and that is the truth. Blaine […]

April 22, 2014

The One With All The Somewheres


So here you are. 6:34 a.m., reading important emails in the bathroom, birds chirp-chirping outside the window, waking up with the world. No. Wait. Here you are. 12:48 p.m., waiting for the eggs to reach room temperature, wondering how you’re going to keep these impossible ants out of the cake batter when you’re not looking, […]

April 15, 2014

The One Where I Write To My Kids About Dying


Here’s the thing, kids: I’m not afraid to die, but I’m afraid of leaving you. And I’m not afraid to talk about it, but I am afraid to write it all down — there’s a deeply primitive part of me that fears putting pen to paper will usher in everything I’m frightened of, a strangely […]

March 13, 2014