bus stop

I felt a twinge driving to work on my son's first day of kindergarten. I wanted to stay home to see him get on the school bus. It was irrational. Being there the first time wouldn’t help me control what happened after the yellow doors closed. Still, I thought how that would be the first of countless times I wouldn’t be there for pick-up or drop-off. It was one of those moments that made me hate working outside the home. But there would be no home without my job, so off to work I drove....more

hands on experience

Using my backpack for a pillow, I stretched out on the padded bench and closed my eyes. I was too wired from free coffee and weeks of accumulated worry to sleep, but I had run out of diversions.  I'd arrived too late for art therapy in the lobby. I'd eaten the turkey sandwich I'd packed. I couldn't concentrate on my book. I had a list of people to call, but nothing to report. I'd paced the family lounge as if logging steps on a pedometer. I had at least three more hours to kill plus the drive home, so a nap seemed prudent....more

avoiding (tongue) depression

“He’s doing better, right? He shouldn’t have to go to the doctor. I mean, why put him through the stress?”My husband must have heard the pleading in my voice because he agreed that our son seemed to be on the mend. Philip no longer sneezed out hunks of snot. He hadn’t coughed in my face for hours. He ate and drank normally, ran no fever, and had the energy to knock over our bookcase. Twice. When Philip fell asleep, I was hopeful that he would be fully recovered by morning so I wouldn’t have to put myself through the stress of taking him to the doctor....more

I was going to write a book

I was going to write a book.I purchased a narrow-ruled, spiral-bound notebook to record all the details. I dated the entry, described my arrival in Chicago, jotted down the name of the suburban chain hotel and even immortalized my room number. Let's say it was 405. Back in Room 405, after the mixer, I wrote about the following conversation. If I could find that notebook, I could tell you the name of the man with whom I shared my aspirations.Let's call him Dave....more

smoke gets in your eyes

I sensed the sudden brightness through closed eyelids. I blinked and sat up. The bedside clock declared it was 1:00 am. Peter leaned against the doorway beside the now on light switch.“I need you to,” he wheezed, “help me sit down.”...more

it was supposed to be simple

The brochure on myringotomy provided by the ear, nose, and throat specialist outlined what to expect before, during, and after ear tube placement. Geared towards parents, the pamphlet’s cover featured a boy, hooked up to an IV, smiling up at his dad and surgeon....more


When I called the ENT’s office for the eighth time in ten days to find out the results of the CT scan, the receptionist didn’t have to ask for Peter’s date of birth.“Oh, yes, let me pull his file.” For the first time in eight calls, she had an update.She read from his chart, “This says your husband has a cholesteatoma. Surgery in a tertiary care center will be required.” Her voice trailed off. “Let me find the nurse to explain this to you.”...more

my blue period

It was too nice outside to wear my dark winter coat. Spring had finally arrived, and I was ready to ditch the heavy parka. A glance in the closet revealed no season-appropriate alternatives suitable for work, so I left the house wearing a black sweater.It began to rain.My gray umbrella helped, but I still had goose bumps as I dodged raindrops on my way into the office. Happy for an excuse to get away from my desk, I drove to the Goodwill Store during my lunch break. My mission: find a raincoat....more

Flipping Off the Voice of Doubt in My Head

Philip is a terrible bird watcher. While the rest of the group advances along the path, my son plops down in the middle of the trail to play with rocks. ...more
BlogHer Oh, how beautiful! Kids teach us to never loose the sense of wonder.more

I know I shouldn't compare

This morning, a coworker and I were discussing our Easter activities with our families. I had shared with her my story and pictures of Philip hunting Easter eggs. My coworker then described how several of her young relatives took turns being, let us say, difficult. The gist of her story was that the three children took turns either being greedy, selfish or declaring the Easter egg hunt that she put on for them unfair....more