The last two weeks of December are cementing themselves as my favorite of the entire year. For days, toys and wrapping paper spread across the house like travelers waiting for their rides back home, the busy station too small to hold them all inside. As an adult, I find Christmas nostalgia stronger than Christmas present. Memories of my childhood become a thick blanket over me as I miss my grandmother more than ever before. I compensate by pouring my energy into June’s first memorable holiday together. What can I do to give her what I cannot have back? With the snow spiraling everywhere around us on Christmas Eve, we laid…

Last week June was sick, leaving us bedridden for days until our backs ached. It was the first time Sean and I had to parent a child with the stomach flu. We joked that parenting was like a video game where we had unlocked some secret level we didn’t know about and now we could advance to the next level. In reality, it was difficult watching June suffer and my mind went to dark places where children are much sicker than June. The next day a friend texted me that she was constantly worried about her son’s health and felt crazy. It was as if she had read my mind.…

Dear Husband, When people ask me what I do, I tell them that I stay home. Sometimes, if I am being honest, I feel a shrinking within myself as I answer. Is that really what I do? I stay home? Is it 1950 and women are merely pons and trophies? And then I remember the life we are building for our family and I stand taller in pride: I stay home. I want to be an example to my daughter of strength and stability. I want to be a strong feminist that she can look up to and admire. I used to wonder if I could be that for her…

Dear June, You are two years old now. People always say, “Where does the time go?” but I never do. I know exactly where it went. It went to mornings spent painting, to afternoons dancing in the kitchen, to diaper changes, to baths, to waiting for the clock to hit 4:30 so that we could barge into your dad’s office. It went to episodes of Daniel Tiger and Elmo. It went to peaceful nap times. It went to dishes in the sink, to walks around the block listening to podcasts and admiring other home’s gardens, to glasses of wine in the last of the evening’s light. It went to baskets…

Our library books are late and still sitting on top of the piano. The dishes in the sink are rising. My bedroom is in its usual state of upheaval. The stairs need to be vacuumed and the plumber needs to be called. If it’s one thing becoming a mama has taught me, it’s this: There will always be a list of things to do. Yet, somehow, the things on the lists will always get finished… eventually. In the harder times of life, like this, we become like gears behind the clock face, clicking over and over and over, a counted rhythm to walk in the darkness. After the loss of…