Latest Posts
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Mother, Martyr
I’m barefoot and braless in the kitchen. Hair a mess, teeth unbrushed, my glasses smudged with egg. A thirteen month old is balanced on my hip while I dip pieces of bread into eggs and drop them on a sizzling… Continue reading
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A time for thoughtful reflection, acceptance, and conversation.
This is a guest post by Mr. Nurshable. Dear Nurshable readers, As you know, these elections have had a tremendous impact on us all. The lead up has been exhausting and the result has been shocking for everyone. Mrs. Nurshable… Continue reading
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Sleeping With Knives: Cosleeping and Sensationalism
I have grown weary of some of the sensationalism surrounding cosleeping. It is nothing like allowing a child to ride in a car without a carseat. And even less like letting a baby sleep with a knife. “You have a… Continue reading
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That’s Not Fair!
We are packing for a road trip. Alexander has taken it upon himself to pack some car snacks. He comes up to me after putting snacks in everyone’s bag. “Mommy, there are two extras.” I am counting out diapers into… Continue reading
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How to Talk to Babies Like No One is Watching
I am talking to my 5.5mo baby as she is playing with a toy. And I begin naming the things that are on it. And I name the lady beetle. Intentionally not using the term “bug”. Because lady beetles are… Continue reading
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And When You Come Home to a Messy House, What Will You See?
Isaac is watching me as I clean. I have just put the bedtime snack on the table. And rounded up my giggling children. “Mommy, come eat with us!” He says. I am swishing water on plates with one hand while… Continue reading
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Gentle!
Wren is on the swings. I am pushing gently. A little girl comes over and wants to push her too. “Gently” I say. And she pushes her gently, slowly building up momentum until it approaches being too fast. I… Continue reading
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The Earliest Forms of Consent and Communication (Part 1)
She stirs. Stretches. Smiles. Blows bubbles. I smile, too. And tell her good morning. “Hello.” “You are awake!” Then I ask her a question. It has always been a silly question. “Can I pick you up?” I started asking her… Continue reading
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I’d Like to Live in a World Like This
A volunteer blackberry plant in the weedy remnants of last summer’s garden. I am looking at the little blackberry with my four year old daughter when a little skipper lands. She squeals in happiness, her hands fly up to her… Continue reading