Reality hit on Mother’s Day two years ago when a little blue strip appeared on a pregnancy test. And another test. And another test. It took three separate tests to…
Author: <span>Beth Hendrickson</span>
Dust is the only thing getting sleep these days in my house. I noted tonight a cobweb tendril trailing from ceiling to a framed cross stitch hanging in the nursery: “Quiet down cobwebs, dust go to sleep. I’m rocking my baby, and babies don’t keep.” I’ve memorized this saying since it hung in my bedroom as a child, and it’s taken on new meaning the past sixteen months as I’ve rocked my own baby and ignored the cobwebs threatening to wrap up my house. Tonight is our first night of sleep training, courtesy of the book Good Night, Sleep Tight by Kim West. Tomorrow, my assault on the slumbering dust begins.
Miles from home, a toddler refusing to eat an almond-butter apricot jam sandwich, my plate filled with kale-sprinkled salads (delicious in theory), mid-day sun grilling my shoulder through the plate…
Certain things are guaranteed to catch my eye: JCrew’s new jewelry line, book covers in Barnes and Noble, cheap fares to Paris, the black Cadillac CTS. Until I met a…
It’s been a rough week of sleepless nights. Last night, my daughter was awake from 1:44 am until 4:53 am. At some point during the bleary night, she discovered that…
I used to paint the bottoms of my feet blue. Sky blue. Growing up in Phoenix, Arizona, I had an early tradition of drying my hair the natural way: soaring…