Mothering Through The Darkness

  In just a few weeks, Max will turn 6 and Ben will turn 2.  My sweet, hilarious, curious, kind little boys are growing out of their clothes, growing out of their baby routines, and growing into little people who share their dynamic personalities with ease and laughter.  But they are not the only ones…

It Won’t Get Better

A newborn’s cry is unmistakable. The hearty, bleating squawk of a tiny human being announcing their arrival, is a sound that etches itself into the cellular memory of a parent.  My youngest has a cry that is 14 months older than his first heartbreaking shrills once were, and yet…. When you peeked around the corner…

I Am A Kind Mama

I have something very important to tell you, so I need you to listen up. Are you ready for it? Celebrities are not experts on anything other than being a celebrity. They’re not. They’re not doctors.  They aren’t psychologists.  They aren’t researchers, or social workers, or childcare providers.  They aren’t chefs (though they have them).…

Paternity Leave: Play Ball!

Dear Mike Francesca, Boomer Esiason, and Craig Carton, I have no idea who you are. Really, I don’t.  Sorry.  I had to look up how to spell your names for this article. But I heard what you said the other day about New York Mets player Daniel Murphy, and my husband knows who you are,…

Doula Week: A Thank You

I brought my baby home from the hospital when he was five days old. Even though it was only ten months ago, I can’t quite remember what day of the week it was.  In my heart, it was a Monday. Mondays are for new beginnings.  Mondays are for starting over.  Mondays are for reinvention, and…

Let It Be

I held my tiny boy in the front seat of my car today. We were parked outside of Max’s preschool, tucked beside a tree, waiting for the clock on the dashboard to find the numbers that would signal it was time to rejoin the world.  A damp burp rag hung from the sun visor, creating…

Do One Thing, For Miriam

Sometimes I cry in the shower. Sometimes, when I am nursing my sweet, 4 month old baby by the glow of a nightlight, tiny rivers of tears trickle down my cheeks and onto his jammies. Sometimes I snap at my 4 year old.  “Mommy, I didn’t like it when you were fighting at me today”…