Muscles, Magic, and Messy Conversations: I’m here for all of it, and I’m betting you are, too. Get words from my salty, sassy soul straight to your inbox.
The older I get, the more I physically resemble my mother. I look in the mirror, and I see her face. This is complicated for me, because, by my own volition, I don’t have a relationship with her. From my youth I remember her show-stopping charisma—her penchant for adventure—intermingled...Read more
A relentless trek of switchback after switchback, the Four Mile Trail from Yosemite Valley to Glacier point isn’t actually 4 miles at all—it’s 4.6 miles to the summit…and another 4.6 miles back down to the valley, climbing 3200 feet along the way. My 11-year old, Isaac, asked me how long...Read more
Isaac slid a note under my office door. It was around 6:30 am, and he knew he I was likely in the thick of my morning magic rituals. Inherently and thoughtfully seeking not to disturb me during this sacred time is one of the many qualities I admire about my 11-year-old son. Earlier...Read more
There is something especially disturbing about the call for women to engage in self-care as a means of preparation for service towards others. We don’t feel especially comfortable giving women permission to put themselves first, so instead we often see the call to self care punctuated with statements such as,...Read more
At 5:30 this morning, I walked into my son’s room to turn off the light. Every Summer, Isaac jets off to Maryland to spend 6-8 weeks with his biological dad, and every single time it hits me hard–no matter how old he gets. I’m grateful that he gets this...Read more
“Are my clothes cotton?” I was initially confused when Isaac tentatively knocked on the door to my office to ask me this question. It was 0700, and I was just settling in to my office sofa to write in my journal. My family knows I don’t like to be disturbed during the...Read more
I did something I never imagined I would do–I bought a longboard. I did it so that I could cruise around with my 9-year-old on his skateboard, helping him ease a bit more into his discomfort zone–while I, inevitably, follow suit. In the past few weeks we’ve had a...Read more
Isaac went to music camp for Spring break. He’s in 4th grade and has participated in everything from MMA to football to playing trumpet at school. But until we started hiring an instructor to teach him guitar in our home, I’d never found him completely committed to anything. Guitar, however,...Read more
“I think Mondays hate me,” Isaac said, as he trudged into the kitchen. There was thick-cut bacon awaiting him, as well as a freshly toasted cinnamon raisin bagel; alas, even that wasn’t enough to get him pumped for Monday morning. I explained to him that a lot of people dread...Read more
Labor Day Weekend in Cali was hot as a mofo. It appears that Summer is finally making an appearance, and no one in the beach cities has air conditioning…so, the ocean it is. We will brave the chilly Pacific waters because we are so damn hot we just...Read more
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