"How's the campaign going?"
It's the question I get most often. It's also the question I'm never quite sure how to answer.
Good? ... Great! ... Your guess is as good as mine. ... We'll see May 17th!
The truth - I suppose - all depends on what you're measuring.
This weekend we hosted a Winter ONE-derland party in honor of Felix's first birthday. Considering this child was born during a snow, it seemed like an appropriate theme. Well, the weather had other plans and it was 70 and sunny! I could have hosted the dang party outside!
For my 30th birthday, I created a list of 30 things I wanted to do. One was to write a historical fiction short story. This is the story and as Ruby keeps calling to me here lately. I thought I'd share it here.
One of Nicholas's New Year's resolutions was to try freezer meals. He'd prepped meals for the week on and off through 2015 and wanted to see how it would work to prepare an entire month's worth. Then, we could just pull a meal from the deep freeze, throw it in the crockpot, and on a busy day dinner would be waiting for us.
Six word memoirs are exactly what they sound like. Your memoir in six words. I've always loved the concept but was too intimidated to ever try and write one.
Enter The Six-Word Festival on Twitter.
Suddenly, there were prompts! And a schedule! And a deadline! And free stuff!
If you know me at all, you know these are my trigers. So, when the festival kicked off on Tuesday, I decided to join in.
First up? “I Will Never Do That Again” ... easy.
I hope that as I write these words, a true diplomatic solution is in progress for Syria. In the meantime, I think about how conflict in the Middle East has been a given for generations, and I wonder if my two-year-old daughter will ever see an end. As I think about her, and about how much more efficient and complex and deadly the weapons of the future will be, I hope that we will seize this moment in time to start focusing on the only weapon that I believe can bring true, lasting peace to the Middle East: knowledge.
For the past few weeks, I have watched countless Facebook friends posting photos: “I’m against war in Syria.” Undoubtedly, most of them mean “I’m against American military intervention in Syria.” (And, undoubtedly, a few mean, “What did President Obama say? I’m against that.”). But, here’s the thing: it sounds like we, as Americans, don’t know that there is already a war in Syria. That there has been a war in Syria since 2011, and that there were many heinous atrocities and conflicts before 2011. That the use of chemical weapons might be new, but the slaughtering of innocent people is not. That this is another chapter in a long, tortured history.
Congress returns to debate military action in Syria this week. I don’t envy them this task. Like many Americans, I have also been thinking about where I stand on this issue. At first, I was hesitant to share my thoughts. I’m no foreign policy expert. I have no advanced degree in Middle East studies. I have never even travelled to that part of the world.
And yet - maybe just maybe - there is room for my voice in the cacophony of sound coming from politicians and experts and talking heads. Maybe it is important for all of us to take a moment from our ordinary lives and think about extraordinary situations that seem so far removed from us.
Not so that we can find the “right” answer but so that we give the question the time it deserves.
Last night Miley Cyrus twerked her way into the national conversation. People who haven’t watched MTV (much less the VMAs) in years are suddenly well-versed in the over-sexualized performance of the former Hanna Montana, as well as her co-performer Robin Thicke.
There has been a predictable backlash against Miley Cyrus. People are rightly claiming she’s in it for the attention. People are worrying about an ensuing Britney-like break with reality. People are doing a fair amount of slut-shaming.
However, when we make this discussion about the personal choices of Miley Cyrus we are missing the point entirely.
Miley matters but not for the reasons you think.
I've invited my dear friend Lydia to share her thoughts on being childless. It felt wrong to invite a discussion and then not share this space with someone who has actually made the decision we're discussing. I've known Lydia for over fifteen years and I knew she would do the topic justice.
When I was a little girl, I don't remember having more than one baby doll. That sole doll was named Drowsy. I didn't carry her around like a baby, I didn't walk her in a play stroller, I didn't play "mom" to her. She was my friend - my pretty tow-headed, pink and white polka-dotted friend.
Eventually I outgrew Drowsy and grew up to be a young woman who claimed with intense conviction that she never wanted children.
What happens when having it all means not having children?
This is the question asked by Lauren Sandler in her Time Magazine cover story “The Childfree Life.”
“Having it all” is a phrase that haunts parents – particularly mothers – everywhere. Balancing the demands of family life and a career in order to walk the high wire act of personal fulfillment can seem like an impossible task.
Well, y’all, I’ve got bad news. Stop trying to walk that tightrope because it turns out we shouldn’t have joined the circus to begin with.
