Growing Up

From my five year-old back-seat driver recently: ___________________ Mom? Mom? Yes? Mom? What time is it? It’s 5:43. 5:43? Yes, 5:43. Um… so, how much longer until we get home? About an hour. Why? Because we can’t go any faster than this. Why? Do you see that sign? What’s the number on that sign? 70. Well, we’re not supposed to go any faster than that number. It’s called the speed limit. How fast are you going? About 70. What’s the number? What number are you going? 75. 75? 75 is more than 70, right? Yes, it is. Not much more though. But you’re not supposed to go faster than 70, right? That’s right. But we’ll be home soon. It’s not that much faster. 70 is the rule though, right? That’s what the sign says, right? Yes…. So, you don’t have to follow the rules? … Mom? Mom? Yes? What time is it? It’s...

I grew up in a family full of strong, opinionated, southern women of all shapes and sizes.  As a family, we all loved to gather together for holidays or special occasions over an abundant feast of deliciously prepared food, and then the next day all the ladies would begin their diets all over again only to avoid getting "fat."  As a child, I always questioned the true definition of "fat." Throughout my formative years, I attended my fair share of Weight Watchers meetings with my mother (who has never been "fat" a day in her life) who taught me from a tender age how to count points.  Looking back, I'm pretty sure that through every season of my life, there have been times where I...

My baby boy is turning a year old at the beginning of this month and it shocks me. “Where has the time gone?” is on the tip of every mother’s tongue during this time in her baby's life, and it has been my mantra these past few months. Really it’s an existential question, and it’s a lament. We are filled with wonder and yearning, sadness and joy because it’s not just about where the time has gone. It’s about knowing that it’s going to keep on going. I was the best mother there ever was… before I became a mother. I knew all the rules, had read several manuals, knew exactly how I would raise my son and was supremely confident...

I can't really say it's "Back to School" for us, since this will be my two-year-old's first time in any kind of school program come August. She will begin a Mother's Day Out program, half-days, 2 or 3 times per week. It's more like, "To School." To...what I hope is a wonderful new experience not only for her, but for our whole family. To...a chance for her to be in a new environment and learn a little bit about the world outside our home. To…yes, a little time for mama to get some things done sans little one for a few hours. To...what I am almost utterly and completely dreading. My daughter is a very social, friendly child. She rarely meets a...

It started with a crash and a shrill cry early Sunday morning. My husband flew out of our room and into my son’s nursery and confirmed what he suspected: 18-month-old William had climbed out of the crib and crash-landed. I rushed in after him and scooped up my sweet boy who was crying hard and looking totally shell-shocked. I could already see a big bump forming on his forehead. He soon calmed down, but after some hemming and hawing, we decided to take him to Urgent Care that day to make sure he didn’t have a concussion and because one of his arms seemed to be bothering him. The doctor on duty saw no signs of concussion and thought his...