The Window Seat and Parenthood
Being a parent means the window seat will never be yours again. Continue reading The Window Seat and Parenthood
Being a parent means the window seat will never be yours again. Continue reading The Window Seat and Parenthood
I want to scream. I’m standing in the kitchen next to my mom who’s fixing me a plate. She’s taking forever, as usual Continue reading Taking It Slow
There’s a part of me that likes to see a high number in my drafts folder. There’s something soothing about not having to start from scratch. Knowing that something is needing you in order to feel whole, quite frankly, feels good. You therapists out there can analyze me if you like. Continue reading Why Your Drafts Folder Is Stacking Up
I hate mouth noises–
the rhythmic chomping, mashing,
cracking and moisturizing. Continue reading Peep My Pet Peeve Poem