Resolution: Relax


Having two children is next level in every way imaginable: the busyness, the joy, the lack of sleep, the love, the extremely fast and disorienting pace in which it all goes by. M sits up now. L reads (he reads!). The two of them cuddle and stare deeply at one another, full of adoration. Future arguments and fist fights feel far away; I’m sure when they arrive, they will feel too soon. Despite the fact that I spend a good chunk of my day staring at dates on a calendar, moving the logistics of our lives around like a jigsaw puzzle, I can’t believe it’s already 2020. Time has become impossible to comprehend.

The passing of a year has marked me, too. My face and neck are wrinklier, my hair longer and wilder, my nerves a bit more frayed. Yet I am also happier, more focused, more impressed and in awe of myself than ever before. There is no confidence booster like birthing a baby in the backseat of a car; I can do anything now! And somehow, in the middle of this barely-controlled chaos also known as raising two kids, I feel more at peace than ever—or perhaps just more acquiesced, which, I suppose, is a version of peace.

My mom’s birthday recently came and went, another marker of time that continues to confuse me. She would have been 66 this past Christmas Eve. We ate pinto beans with a ham hock over cornbread, followed by cookies we’d made from her handwritten recipes. She was all around us, happy in our offerings. I like how death and birth stop time. Or rather, how they take us beyond time. Time doesn’t stop, it refuses everything except forward motion, but in death and in birth, we go beyond.

2019 was so extremely full. Beautiful and powerful and transformative, but also, A LOT. I am ready for a year of less, though of course I have no control over how much, or how little, comes my way. Perhaps it’s wiser to let go of any expectations and instead find more moments to relax, even within all this muchness. Time won’t slow down, but I can.

Human Waves

On this fourth anniversary of my mother’s death, I am struck by how often I find her in my day-to-day, by how alive she still is in so many ways. Yet I am also struck by how badly I wish she could have met my son. He has met her, through photographs, recipes, lullabies, records, but she never got to see his face, much less hold his precious little body, and this is the one big thing I still grieve.

But when we lose someone we love, there will always be that one big thing. As I meditate by this glorious ocean, two waves crash into one another directly in front of me, their waters flowing through each other until it’s impossible to tell where either one begins or ends. Seconds later they reverse direction and glide away, disappearing into the vastness of the great water behind them. I think of how my mom and my son are like two waves splashing together inside of me, their waters flowing through each other through me, how really all of us are like waves in the same great glorious human ocean, crashing and gliding and flowing through one another.

My Essay on Postpartum Madness in Mutha Mag + LitCrawl NYC This Saturday, Oct 1st!

IMG_2395.JPGTwo exciting pieces of news to share!

First, my essay on nursing/weaning/postpartum insanity is up now at Mutha Magazine. Spoiler alert: I talk a lot about my vagina. Why? Because too many women feel ashamed and embarrassed about their bodies and as a result do not talk about their experiences, which is totally insane because our bodies are amazing and we need to support one another through sharing our stories. Please enjoy, share with all the prospective and current parents you know (yes, dads, too), and may my experience reach someone who needs to hear it.

Secondly, Mutha Magazine, Pen Parentis, and The Brooklyn Players Reading Society are teaming up to co-host an awesome LitCrawl NYC event this Saturday, October 1st at Sidewalk Cafe at 6pm. The line-up features diverse perspectives on keeping it real with kids, with readings by Emily Gould, Mira Jacob and Jade Sanchez-Ventura, and cartoonists Emily Flake Pastore and Lisa Lim screening comics live. This is your opportunity to get in on all the dirty secrets of muthahood you ever/never wanted to know.

LitCrawl NYC is an annual event organized by PEN America and includes way more readings than just ours, all night long and all across the Lower East Side, FOR FREE. So, I’ll see you there.