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Summer Loving

Summer of 2014 We walked down our boulevard under the cathedral canopy of maple trees, the evening sunlight trickling through to the ground in leaf green splashes.   The kids talked all at once, rivaling the murder of ravens squawking a grisly tune above our heads.  Nate from the stroller on my left lisped a story…

Rare Bird

My friend Anna Whiston-Donaldson wrote a book and its release date is tomorrow.  It’s going to be a best-seller.  She doesn’t need me to promote it for her. She’s already been lauded in the Washington Post, received incredible reviews, and so many bloggers love her and want to help spread the word. Anna is authentic,…

Simplicity

The Arby’s forced air felt blessedly cool after two long, hot days at an amusement park and Lake Coeur D’Alene and two long, hot hours in the Suburban being bombarded in the back of the head with shrieks, questions, and complaints.  We spent the previous night in a hotel room with five children and if…

By the numbers

Once a month kind of borders on pathetic.  I am not writing, I’m barely taking pictures, and the days flash by in a crazy haze.  Ten days in Arizona.  Zoo Camp. Swimming. I am writing for Mamalode every other Friday.  In my first piece in June, Ripped, I shared a little bit about what it…

Love letters

Matt found a love letter in a wall of the new house.  It’s dated August 14, 1935, still tucked securely into a stained envelope faded yellow-brown with age.  The purple 3 cent stamp is perfectly preserved.  Carabelle gushes romance and love to Dick: the pretty moonlight over the lake is only missing you. She calls…

Getting there

I watched Nate walk into preschool today, pumping assertively up the front steps because he was so proud of his brand new Sketchers. The lanyard declaring him “dropped off” hung to his knees and his orange hair matched the orange T-rex on his shirt, which matched the bright orange piping on his new shoes.  Something…

But my heart, Anita

Where to begin?  It’s so cold. Our unplowed neighborhood streets are frozen into icy ruts that funnel the van into a lane of traffic like I’m driving one of those amusement park cars unable to veer more than a few inches left or right of the designated track.  I worry about the kids’ fingers freezing…

Two ladies on the internet

The thing I love about blogging is the connections with other women.  Because I write this life journal essayist thing on the internet, I met Ann Imig, who started a national show featuring and celebrating motherhood and I get to be a part of it.  Because I write and enjoy the writings of other women,…

What if

A photography team flew from Seattle and took pictures of the kids and me last Friday.  They arrived promptly at 10:30 a.m., two tall, youngish men, dressed in that casually rugged and yet still so stylish way that is popular here in the Northwest. Not Carhartt, Matt played with an excavator on the land all day, casually rugged. …

Rolling uphill

So, I’ve been stressed.  Mostly good stress, busy with kids and things I love to do stress, but still I haven’t looked at a writing project in weeks.  I don’t know what I expected. I have a part time job facilitating toddlers and their parents at our much-loved cooperative preschool.  I have a baby, who it turns…