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Earth Science
My son’s eyes changed from their newborn blue well before his first birthday. They deepened to brown, like bittersweet chocolate. Brown, like black coffee and molasses. He asks me questions I would never think to ask, let alone know how to answer: Where do tornadoes go when they stop being tornadoes? If you can’t drive…
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Denouement
If 2023 were a story, December would be its denouement—the falling action of a plot when all the conflicts are finally resolved. Of course, that’s not really how life works. Our stories don’t wrap themselves up in a shiny red bow just in time for the year’s end. Some stories begin and end in less…
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These Walls
The toys are picked up for once, except for the stuffed ice cream cone the cat left in the middle of the floor. The children are taking their afternoon naps. I hear the gentle rush of the furnace blowing warm air through the vent behind me. It’s quiet enough to hear the wall clock ticking.…
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Canvas and Clay
I remember the day my son was born and feeling his soft, tender skin for the first time. Every inch of it was perfect, just like him. No marks or blemishes had changed him from how he had formed inside me. The thought of doing anything that would bring my son out of his current…
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Sunday Mornings
I remember being in church one Sunday morning when, just as the sermon was beginning, a toddler darted up the main aisle wearing only a T-shirt and a diaper. His pregnant mother chased him, holding a used diaper in her hand, and caught up to him just before he reached the pastor. She quickly apologized,…
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Time Travel
“Grandma, what’s time travel?” Walter asks, for the third (or maybe the five hundredth) time. I’m dropping the kids off with my mom before going to work, and she mentioned something about time travel while talking about going to the Renaissance Festival with my brother. My three-year-old is still learning not to interrupt grown-ups unless…
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The Bus Ride
“Sometimes you hate it,” Patrick said, and that’s when I knew I wanted to join marching band. I was a “theater kid” in high school, so I spent lots of time hanging out in the hallway of the fine arts wing—the place that housed the auditorium as well as the band room and choir room.…
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Mom Confessions
One of the things I want to do with this blog is share about the things people don’t always talk about. Some of the best things I’ve read have been posts or essays where other moms shared their experiences in a way that made me feel more “normal.” Just knowing you’re not the only one…
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A Poem for September
I originally wrote this poem in September 2021 ahead of a trip to New Hampshire and Vermont. My grandfather had passed away over the summer, and we were holding his memorial service over Labor Day weekend. Some of my most special childhood memories are of trips to New England: at my grandparents’ house in New…
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August
August has become my favorite month of the year. The boisterous, humid days of July begin to settle down, but summer is still going strong. The near-end of summer means sunflowers in bloom, twilight falling just a bit earlier, and a well-rehearsed symphony of insects playing while the orange glow of sunset still lingers in…
The Eberblog 