A mother’s worry

“Jack got in a fight at school today,” she reports, pushing an accident slip toward me. I take the slip and crouch down to examine a fingernail-shaped scratch on my son’s head. “Poor buddy,” I say, pulling him into a hug. I look up and ask, “What happened?” “He and another boy wanted the sameContinue reading “A mother’s worry”

This changed the way I thought about hospitality

In the two plus years since we’ve lived in our new home, I’ve had a lot of design flops. There was the time we tried an online design service that suggested we order a rustic café table for our bay window. Once unboxed and assembled, the table was noticeably too tall for the space—a bigContinue reading “This changed the way I thought about hospitality”

Spring is coming

I’m halfway through Ross Gay’s essay collection, The Book of Delights, which has enlightened my gratitude practice. My practice, which I call “evening pages,” is a spin on creative guru Julia Cameron’s morning pages—three long-hand pages on any topic you want, done first thing in the morning. Instead of every morning, I do this atContinue reading “Spring is coming”

Grace for a Tuesday morning

If only I could get consistent with publishing, then I’d grow my platform.If only I could be more patient with my toddler, then I’d be a better parent.If only I could get my work inbox in order, then I’d be ahead at the office. If only, if only, if only . . . Daily I findContinue reading “Grace for a Tuesday morning”

A word about walls

You can build a wall with words;brick by brick, stack up fear and hate.Sir, the wall you seek?It’s already standing. Here is the ugly truth: this nation was built through genocide, on the backs of slaves, upon the false principle whiteness reigns supreme. Here is another truth: my family is no different than those atContinue reading “A word about walls”

This year, I want to be brave

“Are you sure you’re ready for this?” he asked, looking at me in the mirror. From height of my salon chair, I studied myself. Some iteration of long hair has been my look the majority of my adult life. My senior year of college I received a poorly executed shorter cut that left me emotionallyContinue reading “This year, I want to be brave”

Gets better with age

In my early twenties, I worked for a large, progressive Presbyterian church on Chicago’s Gold Coast. I’d graduated in 2008 with dreams of working for a magazine or newspaper, but this was the year of the financial crisis and although unpaid internships beckoned, I could not afford to take them. I needed a paying job.Continue reading “Gets better with age”

Looks like surrender, feels like home

I open the door and see him dead center in a sea of toddlers, tears streaming down his tiny, flushed face. “Mommy!” he sobs. “Oh poor buddy,” I say, rushing forward, folding him in my arms. His teacher tried to reach me earlier, but I missed her calls. That Tuesday, while I sat in meetings,Continue reading “Looks like surrender, feels like home”