MamaManagement

Do you ever have that feeling, when you're in the middle of some crummy life "thing," that you've been there before? Emotional deja vu. It may not be the same place or even the same people, but it's the same experience and the same feeling. Have you ever taken a step back and realized, I've been through this before. And I hated it the first time around...and the fourth and the fifth. Why am I here again? Why does this keep happening to me? Do you then have a moment where you think, maybe there's something I'm supposed to learn from this that I haven't yet learned. One of those connect-the-dots epiphanies where something that wasn't at all clear to you before suddenly is. Yeah, me too. So, I've moved again. (Okay, over a year ago, but clearly I haven't adjusted yet.) And I'm miserable... again . It's been a roller coaster ride for me since this started almost two years ago, varying widely from "things are fine...

My Sweet Cooper My heart feels both leaden and constricted, at once both insurmountably heavy and squeezed tight as a furious fist. My eyes, surrounded by swollen lids, burn. My head aches. My legs are antsy. My stomach churns. I am agitated, with flat affect. I can't concentrate. I can't sit still. I feel dissociated from my surroundings, except for the times when something triggers the wellspring of sadness that lives in my chest and the tears spill once again. I know this is grief. I know this is normal. I know this will ease with time. I know that he was so sick and I know that he was suffering and I know that that is over now. I know that it would not have been right to try and keep him with me. I know he is better off now. And I like all of the pictures people share with my imagination: Cooper with angel wings, Cooper running in a field with other dogs, Cooper getting ham sandwich shaped dog treats from God, Cooper crossing a rainbow bridge, Cooper young and heal...

The book does not typically have a homemade mom sticker on it. That's just my personalized copy Dear Mr. King, I'm writing to thank you for your book, On Writing: A Memoir of the Craft . I know that you won't actually read this thank you note, but I feel the need to send the sentiment out into the world. That's how much I appreciate what you wrote. I am in the midst of a big chunk of writer's block. Stuck in a place where I'm scared to edit what I've already written. A place where that fear has dribbled over into my writing time too. It is such that I either sit and stare at the empty page unable to pull up a single sentence, or, worse, I avoid the page altogether. After years of feeling this same fear, to finally overcome it and write, only to succumb to it once again, has been painful. The only difference now is my confidence that I'll find my way back to writing soon. For the longest time I didn't believe that. Now I do. But still, I...

Birthdays are funny things. Especially as I get older. I think I'm in this limbo land right now. I exist somewhere between the excitement of a child and the nonchalance of an older adult. I'm between "OH MY GOD IT'S MY BIRTHDAY WOOOOOOOHOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!" and "What? It's my birthday? I thought it was just Saturday. Well, that's nice. I could eat a cupcake." As a full time mom of two young children I relish the idea of a day that's all about me. Like many moms, I get two a year: my birthday and mother's day. That's it. And I mean that is REALLY it. Every other day...most seconds, minutes, hours, days, weeks, months...all those measurements we use for time ticking by...is about other people. And most of the time that is quite okay with me. Most of the time I relish a life focused on others. I spent the first thirty years focused primarily on me. It's been kind of nice to not have time to dissect (worry, ruminate over) ever...

This week I submitted my first piece of writing for critique in a very, very long time. Very, very long. I remember submitting pieces for critique in my college creative writing class, but I also remember it feeling more like a typical assignment...I was in the habit of submitting work for evaluation then because I was in school. I did it all of the time. And I seem to recall still having a glimmer of the cockiness of youth on my side, which can make things like this a little easier, initially, at least. (Though it's possible that that particular class knocked the last of that cockiness right on out of me. Bastards.) Then I remember a little writing group in my early twenties where I shared a few small pieces. But there was less critique and more encouragement there. It was a very safe space...but not necessarily a very productive one. Now I am in my first real writing critique group. There are a few very inexperienced writers, but none of them are submitting work for cri...

Okay, I know I've been on a bit of a middle grade novel recommendation bender, but when I read a good book I just can't help but share it and for whatever reason I've been most drawn to the middle grade novels on my to-read list lately. So here we go... The last two books I recommended had a few things in common. This one is different. Though our main character is similarly aged at 12 years old, the storyline, tone and writing style are very different from Wonder and Counting By 7s . But once again, I loved this book! A Snicker of Magic  by Natalie Lloyd is a novel about a love of words (and I love words) and finding your home. 12 year old Felicity Pickle (I want to change my name to Felicity Pickle.) is a word collector. She sees words everywhere-- in bubbles over people's heads or as birds on their shoulders, dripping down windows with raindrops, and in the stained glass of church windows. She catches and saves as many words as she can by writing them in her ...

The Button Lampshade So this craft project has been on my list FOR YEARS! I am not kidding. I saw the picture on Pinterest ages ago. I loved it. I thought, I can do that. I found a cute lamp with a basic white drum shade at Target: Perfect. Bought it. I found a website where you can order loads of buttons for not loads of money: Perfect. Ordered 'em. The lamp then sat on my daughter's dresser, lovely but plain. The box of buttons sat with my craft supplies, opened and oohed-and-ahhed at but unused. And "Start Button Lampshade" sat on my to-do list for years, sadly moving from page to page, month to month, year to year. Last year I even put it in a blog post of things I wanted to do that year, hoping it would inspire me to actually do it. Didn't. Do it. But then, for no apparent reason whatsoever, two weeks ago I got the bee in my bonnet to do it. I took the shade off the light. I got the buttons out of their box. I plugged in the glue gun and I got ...