The blue plus sign confirmed my recent suspicions. “It’ll take at least a year to get pregnant,” my doctor assured…
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Parenting
On Letting Go of Friendships
We met while dodging the obnoxious boys chasing us when she tripped and fell hard in the mulch. Before she…
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On Letting Go of Our Stuff
As a coach whose work is centered on helping people discover what belongs in their homes, I marvel at what…
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The One About New Friends
When we first moved to New Jersey, I told my closest pals I was in no rush to make new…
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Not Your Grandma’s Spring Cleaning
I spent my childhood visiting their home for a week every summer. After two days on the road, I crawled…
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When You Wonder if the Divine is Even There
They told me in their diplomatic way that a shift was coming.They told me they needed more support to support…
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![When I think back to the early months of motherhood, those bleary-eyed, overwhelming days (nights?) of colic and learning the needs of my first born, I can hardly believe we're here.
The toddler who traipsed around in Huggies and heels, singing made-up tunes and chatting with her hilarious imaginary friend, Lackey, outgrew my heels two years ago. And for the past year, I've been looking up to her--literally.
The longer I parent, the more I discover this gift to be one long, winding road of learning to let go. From the moment she said, "My do it, Mommy," I knew we had begun to leave the days of her tiny hand snuggled in mine.
And while I know these seasons of greater independence are part of her journey, I'm still surprised when they arrive with another milestone at my door, another invitation to release. Some days I ache to hold on just a little longer.
Happy 17th, Sissy.
You're a gift to our home, to your friends, to this aching world.
[ID: A white teen girl with brown hair in 2 braids, wearing black leggings and a black hoodie, is walking in the woods. Sun beams are coming through the trees as she walks away from the camera.]
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