Love Means Showing Up
I was terrified about my daughter entering adolescence. I’d heard so many horror stories about the dramatic changes that happen to teenage girls; I was braced for her to turn into a monster. She honestly didn’t change that much. Caroline is still herself—just stretched out a little. She’s still lovely. I should have been more
When I’m watching a cross-country race, I usually position myself near the finish. The finish line is a great place to get dramatic pictures. I also love the cheering crowds and the coaches yelling out encouragement. Sometimes, a coach will yell, “Show me what you’ve got left!” and a runner will find a burst
Both of my teenagers have been more mad at me than usual in the past few months. My best guess is that they are mostly angry that I won’t let them do everything they want to do. There is a weird vibe in our house that I’ve struggled to identify. Is it like a
A few years ago, I was talking to a wise friend about some of the circumstances surrounding the twins’ birth and adoption that were a bit heartbreaking. I was spiraling into despair when she said, “Is there anything you can do about that?” I responded that I could somehow get them a few more weeks
As I was gathering up our supplies for the beach, my 16 year old daughter and one of her best friends came out of their bedroom wearing bikinis. They looked like the fabulous athletes that they are. I stood there in my Lands’ End bathing suit blinking at them. It was like we weren’t the
I am a “close enough” kind of person. I don’t stick to recipes. You can always tell which rooms I’ve painted because there is paint on the floor and the ceiling. I hang pictures by just banging nails into the wall until I find a combination that seems straight. (I know, OCD people, that this
Sweet Caroline, I cried today in the grocery store today when the cashier asked me about the birthday decorations I was buying. It has surprised me how this birthday of yours has hit me. I know this emotional reaction to your birthday seems silly to you. You are my least dramatic child. You don’t like
“Won’t you miss her?” a friend asked me. We were siting at the pool, watching my daughters play. My oldest child, Caroline, was leaving on a three week adventure trip to the Pacific Northwest. She would be completely off the grid. She would spend her time exploring, kayaking, hiking, backpacking, rappelling, river rafting and camping.
I definitely over-reacted. I was the only one crying in the women’s bathroom, that’s for sure. The custodian looked worried. At the beginning of an away basketball game last season, when they announced the players for the other team, I recognized the names of twin girls in our region that are phenomenal athletes. My
It’s too bad that we can’t all make t-shirts with printed statements and have our kids wear them around town. It would be a great way to get the word out and avoid awkward conversations. I’ve considered the following slogans for my kids: My birthmother chose these white people. My mom isn’t making me dance.