We’re snuggled up on the couch for our Friday afternoon movie while Little A naps. Once he accepts that we … More
I wouldn’t be able to do any of this without my husband. There, I said it. This exhausting juggle, the … More
If only I had an extra day in the week, then I’d be able to get things done. I’d stick … More
I finally have a few minutes to myself. The boys are out, the baby is upstairs asleep, and there’s no … More
My rainbow baby is almost one. She’s happy and she’s calm. She’s obsessed with her big brother and blowing raspberries … More
It’s been a rough few months. Nothing earth-shattering, nothing that ripples past the inner circles of me and my little … More
What a perfect afternoon. An afternoon to remind me of the power of one-on-one time. Of observation and connection. Of … More
There’s this global movement in the business world called Fuckup Nights that I think is brilliant. Along with being generally hilarious, the stories tend to be quite inspiring. Largely because the people who have the humility to be able to get up in front of a crowd of people and say, “yep, I fucked up.” So how about Fuckup Nights for Parents?
When I was first learning to meditate, I remember feeling so left out of this tiredness thing that the teachers were always speaking about. Now, some 7 years later, I’m a fucking tiredness master.
I didn’t know it would be my last drink at the time. It was a fun night, a spontaneous party … More