This Morning I Sat Down at the Table With My 22-Year Old Self

This morning I sat down at the table with my 22-year old self.  She drank ginger peach black tea with cream and sugar.  I drank darjeeling, black.  We met in a cafe, the kind with classical music and the pleasant hum of conversation in the background.  The people sitting next to us wondered if we…

Brave (or What Strangers Call Me in the Grocery Store)

Sometimes people don’t know what to say. When they see us in the grocery store–three little ones in the buggy, three bigger ones swarming around my waist–I can actually see them doing math in their heads.  Is it possible that all of these children could belong to the same mother? I get a lot of…

On our 12th Anniversary

Today is our anniversary.  We met in the fall of 1999, dated for three and a half long, confusing years, and married on a beautiful spring morning just like this one 12 years ago today.  I hoped I was doing the right thing.  I prayed I was doing the right thing. There is no one…

The Best Years of My Life (Pitter Patter)

Sometimes I miss getting completely absorbed in a good book.  The rush of turning the next page, beginning the next chapter…  The anticipation (and bittersweet-sadness of) reading the final page.  The complete selfishness of it all–closing out the entire world and entering another, alone. Sometimes I miss college, when my mind was alive in a new…