Tag Archives: daughter

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letter to my daughter

“A baby is God’s opinion that the world should go on. ” Carl Sandburg On weekend mornings, I make coffee and sit at my desk for a leisurely perusal of news and facebook.  Inevitably, a post […]

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I made this.

The first time I saw the press-kit photo of Jimmy Page on the wall of the School of Rock, I was in love. Not with Jimmy, though his sloppy, many-layered solos and his squinty eyes […]

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hermommie and the order of the feedus

Today, my daughter, Hormonie, is thirteen. She may think January 6th, the Epiphany, is about her, but it’s all about me. Hermommie woke up looking like a Death Eater, the Dark Mark under each eye, […]

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verklempt

photo by Steven Parke My daughter became a bat mitzvah a little over a week ago, and I can’t find the words to describe how I feel about it: about our weekly meetings with the […]

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Broken

Bur first, an interview with the Ripstick Queen, two and a half years ago. Note: the helmet and wrist guards, the mother running beside the daughter to check for cars. It was common knowledge that […]

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come by here

My daughter is about to become a bat mitzvah, literally translated, daughter of the commandments. It’s odd, if not ironic, because she’s already literally the daughter of two nonbelievers, as well as the granddaughter of […]

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she will rock you—if there’s time

My daughter is running for student council president. I’m torn. She’s a great kid who will do a great job. But when will she have the time? I used to tsk at all those moms […]

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summer lovin’, had me a blast

Today, I nearly suffocated in my daughter’s room, buried alive under a mountain of clothing, a lot of it gorgeous, most of it too small. Half still had tags; the other half was barely worn […]

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the spot on the wall

part two For breakfast Monday morningI cook my daughter oatmeal perfect ratio of salt to sugar to oatsserved with teaspoon, splash of creambecause I am a bad motherout of milk since Friday. I scrub the […]

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oldies are goodies

My mother worked outside the home before any other mother I knew. She was a school teacher when I was little. Later, she took a job with some architects, as a secretary, sure, but she […]

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