The more I’m in my zone, the more I love parenting. My zone is rarely clean, it doesn’t look like a pinterest craft, it’s not matching or clever. My zone is a hint of a plan mixed with some spontaneity against a backdrop of disorder with splashes of creativity and colour and a huge helping … Read more zone
He was a gruff, Greek man who gave driving lessons in Melbourne, Australia, and I needed lessons because my driving test was only a few weeks away. I was feeling woefully unequipped to take the test and feeling insecure about my ability to parallel park, among other things. He came to our house in Noble … Read more slow
This post is edited from the archives. You can read the original one here. Nuggets! Want nuggets! Want have it! In a minute, I say, the nuggets are still cooking in the oven. First cook it, then eat it, he says, Little Boy is trying to understand time. Yes, I reply, but first we have to wait a little bit. These … Read more time
The angry, angsty crying comes on the monitor just over an hour after I put him down for a nap, totally uncharacteristic of Little Boy who at over two usually takes a three hour nap daily. I need this nap, my introverted heart recharges in the shadow of books and Facebook. Every now and then … Read more counting