reframing femininity
I was born in the suburbs of Chicago, raised on the dynasty of the Chicago Bulls and the “curses” of the Chicago Cubs. I lived in the same town until I left for college at the age of 18. “Home” will always be that Chicagoland suburb, but it’s no longer the only place where I…
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Dear Younger Self, I’m sitting in my living room with a deeply affectionate boy in my arms and another sweet boy growing safe inside my body. I can’t help but be curious about who you were so long ago. Were you anything like this stubborn, imaginative two-year old who is now leaping off the couch…
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Dusk was falling on another Saturday night in the Chicago suburbs. My siblings and I, all under the age of ten, had been entertaining ourselves during a long, lazy day at home. It was just before dinner and we’d pulled a gigantic floor pillow in front of the couch, jumping like acrobats from the couch…
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As a new mom, I’m often asked what surprises me most about motherhood. My answer varies depending on how grounded or rested I’m feeling in the moment. I’m surprised I’m here and wearing pants! is a less grounded example, but the response almost always has something to do with time.
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Can a mother forget the baby at her breast and have no compassion on the child she has borne? Though she may forget, I will not forget you! See, I have engraved you on the palm of my hands. –Isa. 49:15-16 My iPhone alarm triggers a surge of cortisol through my weary body. The blue light flashes 2:30AM. I feel empty and anxious as…
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“Ewww, Mom, that’s disgusting,” he said as he glimpsed a sliver of the wrinkly, stretched skin of my stomach. The moment had started sweetly. Miracle of miracles, the kids were ready to go to school early which of course, never happens. So my two youngest boys and I were enjoying a few minutes of snuggling…
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He was just over two when we took the fun vacation to Greek ruins, waterfalls, and the sea. In the newness of our discoveries and the delight of our first trip as a little family of three, I snapped photo after photo of my cute blond-haired boy, always standing out amidst our Middle Eastern surroundings.…
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The boulder in my yard was rather large, covered in ferns and lichens. It rested beneath a mango tree, residing in my periphery as I toiled over hand washing clothes and pinning them up to dry in the sunlight. It perched just shy of a conversation amidst the brush, iguanas, and wildflowers, holding its breath…
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I heard my heart whisper, “I’d rather be with them.” I held back a breath, stunned by the level of satisfaction I had being wrapped in the love of my husband and daughter.
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“Do you love me?” say the blue grey eyes of my 12 week old daughter, Asha, as she stares at me. I respond, “We’ve been doing this for a while, haven’t we my love?”
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