Archive for March, 2015

This was the year

Just a few hours less than a year ago, I held my tiny second son in my arms.

Me and Littler J

He fit so neatly in the crook of my arm then. Now, a heartbeat and an eternity later, he wouldn’t stay there even if he did still fit.

I get that. It’s been such a whirlwind of a year that I have a hard time sitting still now, too. I feel like a storm will come along and blow me away if I try to settle in, so I’d better just keep rolling with it and test my landing seat when the winds slow.

This was the year I moved my older son to a new school, only to discover a new school with a mean teacher is a far more destructive choice than an old school with a loving one. This was the year he quickly returned to the old one.

(It’s also the year I learned a loving teacher can work wonders, pulling a terrified child out of his new-built shell with her tender tenacity.)

This was the year I sobbed in the middle of my living room floor, not from sadness but from emptiness. I angrily chased post partum depression away, but sadness remained in her stead. Read more…


Today, in Malibu

malibu1Most Sundays
my first year of law school
I’d walk down to Sunset Boulevard
for a bus to Malibu

The ride was long,
but the sense of hope
well worth it

Anything could happen
in Malibu

Maybe someone
would glimpse my writing
over my shoulder and know
I needed to write their next

Read more…

Until I was free

Bless the teachers

I know I wrote a post this morning.

I don’t like posting more than once per day.


But my five-year-old son finished his first story for school, and I am thrilled, though it is silly.

A few months ago, he could barely write the letter “R.”

Now he reads early readers with ease and can write about bad guys arriving in Mexico.


Why Mexico? Who knows?

What I do know is I am grateful for his teacher, Miss A, whom he sometimes calls “Teacher Mommy.”

Bless you, Miss A. Bless you, all teachers who make such magic, wherever it is you make it.

O, Sweet Sleep

My baby son has slept in my room since he was born.

At first he did so in a tiny wicker bassinet.

rock around the clock

Then, when he outgrew that, he did so in a mini-crib.

sleepy j

He was supposed to stay in the mini-crib until his first birthday (per American Academy of Pediatrics recommendation), but he went and beavered it up on Saturday.


My husband and I didn’t want him gulping down wood splinters, so we moved him to a proper crib. I grieved as we made the move. Where had (most the) year had gone? What would I do without his sweet snores lulling me back to sleep?

Then something magical happened: Read more…

Chew marks and all

My eleven-month-old son really likes sharing, in three- and four-second bursts.

So when he caught me peeking in yesterday to see if he’d fallen asleep, he naturally chose to share what he had been waving around moments before. He stretched his arm out toward me.

I couldn’t quite see what he was offering, so I broke one of our household’s few rules of naptime: I moved in for a closer look.

I found a sliver of wood.

What the–?!

It took me less than a second to figure out the sliver’s origin.


I crouched down and saw several more slivers on the floor beneath his crib.

When I rose, I found my little beaver at work again. Read more…

Categories: Parenting, Photos Tags: , , , , , ,

5,000 Shades of Green

I was working on one of my favorite TV shows when a fellow extra started chatting with me.

I was intrigued by her accent, and asked her where she was from.

When she said Russia, I wowed her with my Russian. By which I mean, “We conversed in Russian until I exhausted my skills 30 seconds later.”

I told her I’d studied Russian for two terms in college.

My face was turned toward the extra, but my eyes were on the nearby lead actress. Read more…

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