If you’re coming to my house for a social call, a casual tête-á-tête, a little visit just to say hi, make sure to take note of both your surroundings and your offerings. Bring wine if …
Read the full story »The care and feeding of the impossibly small
The odds and sods of this and that
An accounting of my father and his resident alien
An accounting of my folly with fowl
Person rearing for amateurs
We have a happy little nuclear family, all things being equal. My husband and I had our son when we were past our rather exciting young adulthoods, and were married seven years before we heeded the call to breed. It allowed us to create a perfect landing spot for parenting: we had fulfilled our craving for adventure in the outside world and we were more than happy to start an adventure in our house, no regrets.
And parenting, despite the fact that parents like to complain, a lot, is the best thing on earth. No amount of sleeplessness, poop, puke, peculiar interests, illness, or chaos theory personified can take away the fact that you love the little dickens beyond any amount you ever conceived. Well, we do, anyway. I suppose there are plenty of families where love is not the over-arching theme, but I’ll continue as if that inconvenient fact isn’t true.
But when we were considering the question “One or More Than One?” we were really, really tired. Skull crushingly, crazy-making, profoundly tired. This remains true, but we’ve either learned to operate under war-time sleep privations, or we were actually even more tired then than we are now, which makes my brain hurt. But since I’m really tired, I’m not sure which it is. Read the full story »
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Special, extra warm thanks to for compiling the …
