Having spent much of my adult life as a teacher (and all of my childhood as a student), I tend to measure time in school-years. Continue reading Another Year Done (Two Poems for the End of the School Year)
Most of us know it well. You are scrolling though Facebook and there’s another one of her photos with her cute hair and happy kids. Your comparing mind starts piping up: “Ugh, she is always doing SOMETHING. Who has time for that? She’s so perky; how annoying. I’m probably a bad mom because I’m not taking my kids to the zoo every other day. I really should be better at that.” Continue reading Standing up to ‘The Comparing Mind’
Reflections of a mom learning to witness her fears: I had a feeling going into this game Friday night that we might not come out on the winning side, and I was worried. Continue reading Losing, Fear, and Personal Power
Standing in my bathroom, I peer down at the flesh protruding over the top of my athletic shorts. It looks like a dimpled loaf of unbaked bread, or maybe a doubled-over baguette. Whitish and smooth, it rises as I breathe. I poke at it, and it jiggles a bit. As if it thinks itself to be Jolly. Continue reading Bellyfat
There are so many divided camps of belief and opinion these days.people are being very loud and very FIRM in their stance, often to the extreme of attacking or shunning those whose views differ from their own.
What if, instead of reacting with my ego, I tuned into my spiritual self? Continue reading Connect. Listen. Love.
The thing about kids is that you don’t need a license or certification or even good intentions in order to have one. You just do this (rather animalistic) act and then -BOOM- less than a year later you are the proud owner of a fragile, flailing, extremely loud, real, live human…innately designed to scream the moment you close your eyes or sit down with a hot cup of coffee. Sure, there’s care and feeding instructions out there, but the disclaimer on every one is that if you get it wrong you will mess them up for life. Continue reading Now What? (parenting without the manual)
Here’s to the mamas
who sniffed the necks of their newborn babies and those who
could finally stop pacing when the adoption papers came through. Continue reading To all the Mamas (a toast)