I laugh when I say it, but it’s the truth: driving from home to school and back in the mornings feels like playing a round of that old racing video game at our favorite childhood pizza place, the one with the actual race car seat and steering wheel, the one I had to climb down […]

The moment I return from my morning walk, Adam starts to move, like a pinball set in motion by the click of the front door. I hear his footsteps, purposeful and solid, before I actually see him, and just as I walk into the room, he snatches a sticky note from the edge of the […]

“I think I know you,” I say, fumbling only a little because I don’t know if she’ll remember me at first, because the last time I saw her, we stood in worship singing blessings over each other. It was dark; we were masked, but I recognized her that night even though I didn’t know her […]

I scan the bustling auditorium for Riley and Adam and immediately find them, my two opposite kids, naturally sitting on opposite sides of the room. Adam looks back at me from a lonely spot on the second row and grins, his gaze both an acknowledgment and an assessment. He’s good, but do I need anything? […]

I joke and call myself a hoop jumper, me with my hair flying wild around my face and my exercise clothes still on from before carpool; me with a pen in one hand, and a mess of papers stretched across the desk in indistinguishable stacks, some paper-clipped, some loose and, as Kevin would say, “flapping […]

Some say these are dark times. Winter breathes frosty paralysis in beautiful, sparkling gusts, and, especially because of the bare chill, the cloud-blanketed skies, I want to stay inside. And yet, this time of year, I feel starved for light. I hang strings of white bulbs, twinkling, in every room. I flick on all the […]

The kitchen smells savory-rich, of comfort and warmth and vacation, of salty, sizzling bacon, slowly melting butter, and just lightly, of syrup. This morning, we cook up breakfast sandwiches assembly-line style, sipping coffee and talking, our voices rising and falling among the clatter of plates and pans. Here and there, a chuckle, a yawn, a […]

Over coffee, Zoe tells us, lacing her fingers through the mug, how she plans to ask her sister to share a movie night, maybe go get snacks before. Zoe slips out to make her invitation, leaves me smiling the way we mamas do when our children love each other; leaves me thinking about how somewhere […]

On the screen, a dozen boxes, a dozen tiny windows into lives and homes, begin to stack like bricks placed by an invisible hand. You can see me, with my bad posture and my tired eyes, a blinking stone already added to a living, breathing, growing thing. Zooming (Have we already verbed that word?) feels […]

Sometimes all I can see is what hurts, what’s hard, what I wish could be different. Before we even leave our driveway, Riley stops, setting her water bottle down, handing me the paper, her pen. She lifts her sunglasses, peers more closely at her phone. “It says license plate, so…” She talks to herself more […]