Breastfeeding

May 25, 2011
When Charlotte was six months old, we dutifully made a bowl of quinoa and put it on a spoon and shoved the spoon in her mouth.  Everyone told us that six months was the magic number. The quinoa didn’t really seem →MORE...

May 13, 2011
We’re waking up in the morning, a tangled mess of legs and sheets and frantic cries for milk.  She suckles and we lay in silence listening to the neighbor’s rooster and she twirls her hair around her finger and smiles coyly →MORE...

This was the third year that I celebrated Mother’s Day as a mother or a mother-to-be.  It was pretty awesome.  Flowers.  Omelets.  Mulberries.  Family pictures.  Cards.  Sweet pea seeds.  Hugs.  Gardening.  Laughter.  Phone calls from friends.  Jokes with my grandmother.  Tortillas →MORE...

A very good friend of mine is half-Mexican and half-Native-American.  She is my daughter’s best friend FOREVER, amen.  Charlotte LOVES her, cannot get enough of her, would totally run off with her and join a band of roaming gypsies if it →MORE...

Apr 12, 2011
As she wakes up in the morning, Donald asks her how she slept.  Did she have beautiful dreams?, he asks.  She nods.  What did you dream of?, I probe.  FISHIES!, she exclaims.  We babble about the fish a bit and Donald →MORE...