Tag Archives: mother

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she hearts guitars

When my daughter left the house this morning in her school uniform, she was carrying far too many things: a backpack, a hoodie, her lunch box, a 20-ounce water bottle dangling from the handle, a […]

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magical beauties

After our annual Mother’s Day brunch, with nine Millers and vonBriesens crammed together in a too-small space (which caused me to eat only half of my eggs), I took some photos of my sister, and […]

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back. in black.

“I liked my old fun Mom.” That’s what my daughter said to me while I was brushing my teeth and moaning in agony last night, after having gotten a spinal cortisone shot. Part of me […]

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scale stories

My daughter weighed herself at 8:30 p.m. I tried to stop her; everyone knows it’s bad to weigh at night, and this night was even worse than most. She’d eaten dinner late because of soccer […]

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inventory

The last week of summer vacation is one of the hardest weeks to be a parent or a child. You both want to cram it full of devil-may-care- ness, go from swimsuits to pajamas (the […]

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