The only thing I enjoy more than putting up our Christmas tree is taking it down. I am by nature a contrarian, a rebel, whatever the opposite is of being a joiner. On my more pessimistic days some might even go so far to call me a hater. But for a few magical weeks each year, all of that goes out the window. Unabashedly, enthusiastically, … Continue reading On To The Next (Celebrate!)
The first photo I have of my daughter was taken when she was nine days old. She was beautiful at birth, a big, gorgeous, well-formed child. She was beautiful even with tubes running from her nose and through the stub of her umbilical cord, even in the blinking lights of heart monitors and breath monitors and every kind of computer that can be used … Continue reading Doctor’s Orders (32 weeks)
When I was younger, from the time I was a child and well into my twenties, I had a very clear image of what my life was going to look like. I could see the house and see the bookshelves, could smell the trees on my street and taste the food we would cook in my kitchen. The strength of this vision ebbed and flowed … Continue reading This is not my beautiful house (23 weeks)
Raver (noun): insult used to indicate a silly, frivolous, or stupid person; often associated with “trance” or “techno” music. Like so many of my generation who came of age in the nighties or even early aughts, I have come to use the term raver as a pejorative. It’s easy to trace the etymology of this. All those pacifiers, glow sticks, candy bracelets. All that hopping … Continue reading I am not a raver.
When I was twenty-five years old, the clichés I lived by all were something to the effect of “the more things change, the more they stay the same,” or, “wherever you go, there you are,” or any other number of uninventive parallel logics about experiencing change without really ever changing. I had spent the past half-decade in an ever-looping cycle of movement and motion. There … Continue reading The More Things Change
One of the very first relationship conversations my husband and I had was not about future plans or past partners, not about when and whether we would declare our exclusivity or how we each felt about premarital cohabitation. It was about sports. Professional sports fandom is not a typical hobby among my friends – more often than not, our art school coolness precludes us from … Continue reading Don’t Cry, It’s Only Baseball
Last week I posted this article from The Atlantic to the MaW Facebook page. When I first skimmed it, my immediate reaction was that good old smug sense of betterness. And no, that’s not a spelling error, I really do mean betterness – as in, this is so not a problem for me because I’m better at being a cool, progressive parent than the parents … Continue reading Careless Koukla
I am not at all the kind of person who should be running obsessed. I drink, I smoke, I eat more fried food than a Southern Baptist. I went to art school. I am in no way graced with the runner’s physical frame, and with the exception of Bay Area baseball, I am beyond ambivalent about competitive sports. And yet, everything about my brain is … Continue reading Why I Run.
All of us who are parents go through periods like this. The partner has back to back to back business trips, the baby stops sleeping, a final paper deadline comes out of nowhere, work gets crazy, everyone gets sick. Day to day life becomes about nothing more than getting the baby safely to and from her bed, not falling asleep on the freeway, and not … Continue reading I Heart Blogging.
Due to the nature of his job (and the nature of his brain), my husband spends a lot of time reading news and stories online. Due to the nature of my job (and the nature of my brain), I totally ignore most of what he deems interesting enough to send to me. But last week was different. Last week he forwarded an article with a … Continue reading Just Let It Go.