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
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)
Today I sat in the grass next to the bike path while my 6-year-old son repeatedly roared like a dinosaur at his 4-year-old sister, making her cry. Continue reading Today I sat in the grass
I hoped this mysterious mountain hike would offer my son some respite from the monotony of home and the pressures of eLearning. What it ultimately gave him was much more powerful than that. Continue reading Up and Down the Mountain
