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I am equal parts verbal and visual. As a writer, I write to discover what I think and what I want to release. My authority is my truth and that seems enough. I write to exist and I exist to write. As I journal and blog, I practice self-compassion, learn self-trust, and have written away much of my anxieties and reconnected with my intuition. I am now connected to a small worldwide community thanks to my writing and have been published with pride.
In an effort to save the moment, I “videotaped” my belly a couple of times. And just like when I’d do the “grab your hand and put it on my belly for you to feel that” maneuver, Twitchy would stop twitching. I believe this is the only time I got a good twitch on tape….
Seldom do we connect with people who we find completely familiar while they remain utter strangers. The internet is the perfect place for this to happen and it happened to me. I’d like to acknowledge one such gal. Her blog is entitled Sleep and His Brother, her name is Ish, and we “met” during my…
I have been dreaming of a state of total mental and especially physical relaxation. Where my muscles are molten and limp. I want to be so relaxed, I experience that shudder of absolute contentment. Because I am so far from that right now, it’s almost cruel to imagine the possibility. The surprise thumps and pokes…
A couple of weeks after I gave birth to my son, my husband routinely would ask me “On a scale of one to ten, how do you feel ?” My mental state was in question and I remember standing by the garden in those first weeks and answering,”About a 4″ . And then eventually, I remember…
On the phone recently, my Mom recounted a story about the last time I had a baby. She laughed as she told her version of that fateful day in the delivery room. Her portrayal of me as a labor room dictator was slightly unsettling. Stories can be both comforting and unsettling. Storytelling impacts, creates, and…
It was just one of those extended parenting weekends. I knew it was coming. I tried to pad it with play dates. But there’s something about the combo of the Daddy cat being gone that makes the mouse want to play knick knack paddy whack on Mommy’s nerves. Those long weekends are like a sentence…
I began to feel panicky. I only had a crib, a mattress, and a blanky. Yes, there are numerous boxes of years’ worth of boys clothing in the attic. But we don’t know if we’re even having a boy. I had nary a nappy or bottle or binky in the house and I was 32…
We had difficulty naming the first baby and we seem to be having more with the second. And the husband not wanting to know the gender of the baby has put more than just a small twist in this game. I may have told you this but you can’t stop me anyway from telling you…
As of a year and a half ago, I still couldn’t see why I should join Facebook or communicate with people I hadn’t seen in a long while. I was living in a lonely dull shell that I was used to. I thought, “What could I say that they’d want to hear? So long and…
This is the second part of a two-part post entitled Trouble at the Table, in which I review and summarize Karen Le Billon’s book French Kids Eat Everything. It was actually one of those reads that changed my life and my kid’s by default. I hope I do it justice. Neither his food pickiness nor…
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