cultivating the beautiful ordinary by sharing our tales and our tables
I see you hovering at the base of the big slide, ready to catch your little daredevil as he proudly descends the last of the challenges this big kid playground has presented. And I am aware of your young mama heart, a little sad that he’s already conquering these obstacles.
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Tread water, get pulled under, push to surface, gasp for air, tread water, get pulled under, push to surface, gasp for air. Slowly drowning has become my way of life. There is a rhythm to it, one that is familiar. A pattern that should probably feel scary or dangerous instead feels like home. So even…
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Sweat dripped down my back as I tidied up and considered what on earth to do with my kids next. It was 4 p.m., smack dab in the middle of “mom hell”, and my daughter was sprawled across the futon, a pink iPad glowing the latest Sofia the First episode. This was her routine after being…
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