Adult Swim
There in the grass just off the sidewalk was an empty bird's nest, intricately woven from twigs, grasses, and whatever else a determined mother could gather. It was sturdy, beautiful, and unmistakably empty.
Read MoreMen Behaving Badly (and the Boys Watching Them)
For every insecure, orange-tinted man whose only feeble-minded defense is name-calling female reporters, I hope my boys see how their incredible teachers model patience and grace and show up with empathy and enthusiasm every day. How they build up their students and demonstrate respectful dialogue between classmates, helping make our school a safe place for everyone, no matter which boxes they check on census data sheets.
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Power Down, Start Again
About once a year, I scroll through the last few weeks of emails, maybe a month’s worth if I’m feeling ambitious, and then: delete all. Thousands of unread, unimportant, outdated messages vanish with one click. Is it a permanent solution? No.
Read MoreSpode Plates and the Season That Breaks My Heart
I put up the Christmas tree on November 30th this year, couldn’t wait. Something about the way the air changed, the early dark, the heaviness I’d been carrying around like a second coat... I needed twinkle lights and garland now, not in two weeks, not after the rush of shopping or the wrapping of deadlines. I needed to believe I could manufacture cheer from muscle memory.
Read MoreRoom at the American Table
For many years, we’ve traveled for the Thanksgiving holiday and had the honor of being guests at my cousin’s table for the big event. When we arrive in Ohio, my family makes a complicated day look effortless. The turkey is perfect, as are the mashed potatoes. Gravy is carefully prepared, and there are always these great pecan rolls from a local bakery that we try to snatch before we actually sit down to eat. The table looks lovely, and it’s so special. Like I said, they make it look easy.
Read MoreIn the Quiet Hours
What I have now isn’t the same kind of freedom I had in my twenties, but it’s a richer one, forged by love, loss, endurance, and a deeper knowing of what it costs to make space for yourself.
Read MoreOf Soccer Balls and Sacred Ground
I mark time by what’s happening in our backyard—the flowers in bloom, the worn patch of grass where my son kicks his soccer ball, the sounds of summer carried through an open window. Some seasons feel slower than others, quieter in ways I don’t always expect.
Read MorePassport in the Kitchen Drawer
Napoleon said, “An army marches on its stomach,” and so do I. My love of food has always shaped how (and why) I travel. From a clay cazuela in Spain to a copper pot from Paris, I collect kitchen souvenirs that bring the world back home, one meal at a time.
Read MoreThe Age of Almosts
Thirteen is an age of almosts. Almost grown, almost ready, almost sure. And parenting a thirteen-year-old? It’s like helping someone pack for a journey you can’t take with them.
Read MoreThe Glow Is Enough
From a bare Christmas tree to messy cookie-making, I’m letting go of perfection to embrace love, laughter, and shared moments. Remembering that it’s not the decorations but the glow of connection that makes the season magical.
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