“Hold on, Mom,” she says, dismounting from her pink bicycle again. She crouches down, her face inches from the ground. “This is important,” she tells me. We’re on one of our walks through the neighborhood, and already we’ve paused like this many times.Read More
My list is up to three reasons: side ache, big toenail on the right side is too long, and I didn't sleep well last night.
They're the reasons I'm collecting as the miles tick by too slowly on my morning run—reasons I should call it a day. The double stroller feels heavier with every footfall, and my ambitions are looking less enticing. If I stop I can sit down, just there under that tree or by that bench, let my heart rate come down, drink some water.
Reason number four: I'm thirsty.Read More
Marriage takes a beating during the early years of parenthood, doesn't it? I've started calling them the short years. Because we're in the thick of them, and sometimes it helps to give things a label. We're short on everything.
Short on sleep. Money. Alone time. Self-care. Time together. These are the short years, the pinched years, the years of tightening up and buckling down; hands-on, always on, hearts out, worn out.Read More