A mom admits that Zoloft makes her a better mother.
I am in the space between. The middle place. Caring for young children and elderly parents. It is a place full of radiant highs and stomach dipping lows. A place of awe, …
Someday, I will hold you.
Someday, I will kiss your forehead and smoosh your cheeks.
I looked at him and calmly replied, “We both know that there are so many things in this life we can’t control. Why not control the things we can?”
And my heart falls to the floor, right out of my body and around the room. His fingers used to be so small like the tiniest promise, the boldest whisper. And now he woos me with Neil Young. And now we move like folk singers across the carpet.
The first pains, the first aches, the first pushes as my spicy little one kicked his way further down into the world. What followed was a violent, thunderous burst in my heart and a clean, fresh page to my purpose.
“The second time I got cancer…” Not a sentence I thought I'd ever say, but I've used it in the last several months. To differentiate from the first time I got cancer at age 12, and a breast cancer diagnosis at age 39. wresting with this disease as a kid: very different dealing with it now as a mom to three and wife to one. Join me on my LAST (hopefully ever!) chemo treatment.
Voke Your Shake
I would tell you about the essence of baby, the corn silk hair, the soggy fingers, the warm breath.
I want to stop time, freeze-fram your innocence, your toddlerhood, this moment, forever.