Heather is an essayist, freelance writer, and full-time mom and wife seeking stillness while in a state of nearly-constant motion. She lives, runs, and eats in the greatest city in the world: Chicago.
Babies are not good at communication. Beyond malodorous clues, the new little person that I was suddenly responsible for was really terrible at telling me how things were going. For those of us who thrive on positive reinforcement, this was frustrating.
Read MoreI checked in everywhere. I posted witty updates and tag friends and places. I quoted insightful articles. I was in the maelstrom of social media, and I reveled in the connectivity, the community of it all. I loved it.
Until I didn’t.
Read MoreThere’s something of a miracle in each pet that enters our lives. Without Maximus, we never would have found Matty. And without both of them, we might not have been ready to be parents together.
Read MoreI know the non-believers in the second grade have begun to whisper their doubts. Like a virus it spreads, making kids question fundamental symbols of the season.
But I want my sons to believe.
Read MoreGetting rid of your stuff is supposed to make you happier. Except when it doesn’t.
Read MoreIf you can’t take the heat, you probably won’t like what I’m cooking for dinner. Just ask my family.
Read MoreWhen my boys get home from camp or our adventures in the city they are hot and tired and a little sick of each other, and of me. All they want are their screens. Left to their own devices, so to speak, they don’t talk to me, to each other, to their dad when he arrives home and says hello. They are hypnotized. I felt the irony of limiting their tablet time while I hid in the kitchen or sneaked into the bathroom to scroll through Instagram or check Facebook for the umpteenth time that day. Clearly we all have a problem. And we are not alone.
Read MoreThere are some trips in life that you just can’t prepare for.
Read MoreBefore I loved to run, I really hated it.
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