just so you know

Simple, sweet Christmas present idea

Last week, I arrived home from carousing with friends to find the rest of my family arrayed on Amy’s and my bed, looking through our daughter’s “baby book.”

As you might expect, this book is a photo album Amy filled with pictures and artifacts from just before and just after Maya’s birth. As the pages turned, Maya was rapt, and Coen was interested as well. As soon as he saw me, he demanded we get his baby book down and do the same thing. We cuddled up at the foot of the bed and did our own reminiscing as Maya and Amy continued with theirs. There were earnest questions, fond reminiscences—in short, it was all so sweet that it makes me nauseous to think about it now.

But the experience gave Amy a great idea for a Christmas present for the whole family: an actual photo album. Continue reading


Warning: this story contains unplanned, unmediated human contact

As I mentioned the other day, the only reason we maintain a landline is so the kids can call 911 when the weak blood vessel in my brain finally ruptures while I’m screaming at them.

Otherwise, I rely entirely on cellular telecommunication, and really no one has my number if I haven’t given it to them, and since I’m under fifty most of my friends would never be so rude as to call me without opening negotiations first via text message. As a result, I’m totally out of the habit of getting unexpected, non-commercial phone calls.

Tonight I was cleaning up in the kitchen while the children did their homework at the kitchen table, by which I mean they were sulking and complaining about and resisting doing their homework, when the phone rang.

The landline phone.

Continue reading


Think of the children—or, actually, don’t!

A timely reminder that the 14-year-old girls children of America don’t want to have sex with you:

“We don’t want to kiss you. We don’t want to be touched by you. Not under the bra. Not over the bra. Not anywhere in the vicinity of our bras. Why are you thinking about our bras?”

Found this via the wonderful Ann Friedman, whose weekly “what I’m reading” newsletter my brother recommended to me, and which I’m now recommending to you. I end up subscribing to and then ignoring a lot of newsletters, but this one I’m liking a lot. You can go directly to the sign-up page here.


Thanks for visiting!

Yes, I have a blog, and no, it sure doesn’t look very active right now.

There are a few reasons for that, but one is that I just went through a malware infection and ended up losing a bunch of posts. I do have drafts of them, of course, but I’m rethinking what I want to do in this space and probably won’t waste a lot of time trying to recreate what was here before.

Thanks for visiting, and check back soon—I’m definitely going to start doing something here.


Mothers, Doctors, and other Superheroes

A heartfelt thank you to all of the people out there who have devoted their lives to helping and caring for every mother’s child as if it were their own.

This Mother’s Day I am thinking about mothers and doctors, two special breeds that become especially powerful when combined.

As many of you know, Maya recently suffered a serious flesh wound to her forehead. At the local hospital, the decision was taken to use DermaBond (or something like it–a medical adhesive) to close the wound, rather than stitches.

This seemed like a great idea at the time, especially to those of us who had been holding Maya’s face together for the preceding 90 minutes and liked the thought of a fast, easy, and painless resolution. Continue reading


My daughter gashed her forehead open, and it made me think

Warning: this post describes a bloody injury received by a little girl.

Yesterday, I was standing in the kitchen talking to my mother when there came a thud from the living room, where my four-year-old daughter Maya was playing by herself.

It was not a terribly loud or otherwise remarkable thud, but the crying that followed was unmistakably the sound of a frightened little girl, in a lot of pain. Continue reading