Bitter/Sweet

Almost every day my oldest daughter drinks a chocolate shake out of her green Paw Patrol bottle—one she loves for the dogs, not the characters. This shake is, of course, not just any chocolate shake. It’s packed full of various greens and nutrients, with a couple of vitamins crushed into it because I’m an opportunist.

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“Mad, Mad, Mad. It Helps to Say I’m Mad.”

I often find myself looking at my two girls and longing for the level of ignorance they are afforded at the ages of 2 and under. There’s so much they are protected from, so many worries and responsibilities they don’t have to engage. What do they have to be stressed about?

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Naming

“Mally!” He said, excitedly, “It’s a girl!” My husband broke the news to me after delivering our baby himself as the doctor stood a step away, coaching him on what to do. I couldn’t believe it; a second girl!  Almost exactly 19 months earlier, I had given birth to our oldest daughter. We knew her…

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Look At Me Go

Every year on Independence Day, the little subdivision that held the yellow house I grew up in would shut down the loop of streets lined with houses that looked just like my yellow one. All the kids would decorate their bikes with streamers and balloons, and we would have a bike parade around the subdivision.…

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Lies That Invade

I walked in the door from work and immediately sent a text to my husband: “I received my demotion today.” The big sigh at the end of the sentence was, I assumed, implied. His response was kind but unsurprised: “And how do you feel about that?” Terrible! Horrible! Just really, really awful! I opted for…

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Unwavering Passion

The night my husband and I found out we were expecting, I was drifting to sleep, dancing between consciousness and my dream world. Suddenly, my husband’s loud and insistent voice snapped me back to reality. “You’re getting an epidural!” he said eagerly, clearly falling asleep to thoughts about my impending pain 8 months later. I…

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Not What We’ve Done

We were sitting at a table along the wall in a crowded restaurant, menus in hand, diving right into the nitty gritty of our personal stories. I had known of this woman from church for a while but this was our first time getting together. The longer I sat with Kate, who is a handful…

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Playing Small

My tenth and final year as a gymnast was during my senior year in high school. With only a small handful of meets left in my career, I was actively trying to make the most of my farewell season. Or, to be more precise, I thought I was trying to make the most of it.…

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Even If

There’s just something about a new year. It’s a period, not a comma. A hard stop. That was last year; what does this year hold? We have no idea, and maybe that’s the best part.

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