Category Archives: writing

February 18, 2015 · 11:49 pm

learning to breathe

Remember how I wrote about figuring out what’s necessary in life?

Well, I’ll tell you how that’s going in a bit.

These days, I’m teaching my son to breathe. When he gets upset and I can’t talk any sense into him or get him to stop crying  long enough to look me in the eyes or answer a question, I try to breathe with him.

In and out, in and out, in and out.

remember to breatheIt often takes a long time until he can join me. But the minutes that I spend sitting with him, inhaling deeply and slowly and then exhaling fully –

those minutes are good practice for me, too.

Because I’ve been holding my breath for awhile now. Wondering what kinds of feelings each day will bring. Wondering if I’ll make it one, two, three hours before hopelessness starts to replace hopefulness. Wondering if I’ll start to know – and really feel, not just know in my head – that God is real. Wondering if it’s too early in the day to start drinking.

It’s been hard, the past few months.  Continue reading →

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January 22, 2015 · 3:00 pm

the necessary things

IMG_2344So, my son. He is just over two years old – you know, the beginning of the infamous “terrible twos,” so-named because this is the time when toddlers start to express feelings in all sorts of inappropriate ways (also known as, “tantrums”). Theoretically, this happens because the toddlers don’t yet know otherwise and haven’t learned how to manage their emotions.

My son has these outbursts – he actually becomes inconsolable and entirely hysterical, hyperventilating and such. So far these haven’t happened in the candy aisle at the grocery store (are NYC grocery stores big enough for a candy aisle?) or in the car seat as I try to buckle him in (what car?), but instead they happen in the stroller when we are walking home at night and he can’t see the moon (darn you, clouds), or at home because I took the corn out of the bowl and put it onto his plate.

(And we are talking MAJORLY upset, people. Out of control and sucking in air too fast and choking on saliva and tears everywhere upset. Hysterical upset.)

But the thing is, I’m not surprised.  Continue reading →

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December 9, 2014 · 10:20 am

do what it takes

DSC_0083

It has been a long time since I’ve sat here, staring at a blank screen. I’ve started a dozen posts in my head since I last wrote and mentally bookmarked just as many topics to address. I even have a small arsenal of posts that I wrote before my daughter was born  so that I could continue to publish regularly throughout “the hard weeks right after,” but somehow using those now seems false, not true to where (or even who?) I am now.

And the hard weeks…hahaha! If only just a few weeks had been hard.

Far from it.

DSC_0039She’s five months old now, with a smile that charms even the hardest of hearts, but every day remains a challenge. And the reality of transferring any of those thoughts to paper or completing any of those posts feels staggeringly difficult.  Continue reading →

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October 24, 2014 · 8:11 am

Food for Thought Fridays: True Words

fancy food

Today I am sharing not an entire article or blog post, but simply a quote that I stumbled across a few weeks ago. The words are searing and true, and too good not to share. (Debra Ginsberg is an American author with four published books, one of which is a memoir about raising her autistic son.) The only response that I had after first reading this was Yes. Oh, yes. 

Through the blur, I wondered if I was alone or if other parents felt the same way I did – that everything involving our children was painful in some way. The emotions, whether they were joy, sorrow, love or pride, were so deep and sharp that in the end they left you raw, exposed and yes, in pain. The human heart was not designed to beat outside the human body and yet, each child represented just that – a parent’s heart bared, beating forever outside its chest.

— Debra Ginsberg

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October 15, 2014 · 5:31 am

on blogging and mothering

writing deskLately I’ve noticed a striking similarity between learning to blog and learning to parent. Most notably, both require exceptional amounts of self-grace because both seem to result in exceptional amounts of expectation adjustments.

(And I’m pretty sure that I just made up the term “self-grace,” so if you’ve never heard it before, don’t feel like you are out of the loop. The idea is that both require me to have a lot of grace for myself. Radical.)

As some of you may remember, I had high hopes when I started this blog. I thought long and hard about why I wanted to write and figured that by the fall I’d be writing at least twice a week, if not more often. I’d have guest bloggers and would be writing at other blogs and on my way to a book deal.  Continue reading →

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October 3, 2014 · 5:54 am

Food for Thought Fridays

fancy food

In the spirit of trying to establish a bit of routine (and since I LOVE routines), I have decided to start sharing a blog post written by someone else every Friday. I have a long list of these already that I’m eager to share with you, and each one has resonated deeply with me deeply.

So here’s the first!

Your Body is Not Your Masterpiece. This was passed around on the internet quite a bit a few months ago, but I’d also read it on Glennon’s blog, which I totally adore. She really tells it like it is, and usually has tears of laughter rolling down my cheeks.  Continue reading →

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Image

choosing this life

 

These flowers were a part of our trip to Denver. NOT an indication of the state of my mind. They are lovely, right?

It has been a really long time since I’ve written. I’m sorry about that. Lots of excuses – obviously the two little ones, plus two weeks of travel (I took that photo of flowers when we were in Denver. They are lovely, right?), plus a lot of intense work preparing for an audition, plus other things, blah blah – but now here I am, ready to write again.

Well, sort of. My brain is filled with orchestral excerpts and my laundry has been scattered on the floor by the toddler (this is what I get for not putting it away immediately), and my current clothes have spit-up (newborn) and yogurt (toddler) and marker (toddler) all over them. And also, they are the same clothes that I wore yesterday since I currently only have one pair of jeans that fit. It’s hard to find the mental space and clarity to write anything that’s not a panicked text to my husband: Please pray for us. Both children have been crying for the last hour. I can’t get J to eat any dinner and HG won’t go to sleep. I am losing my mind.

But something interesting happened a few weeks ago. Out of the blue, someone reached out to me about an amazing job opportunity. It was an intense week. She needed to fill the position ASAP, so I thought and prayed and thought and prayed. I updated my resume, sent it in, had phone conversations and an in-person interview (the first question: “What can we do to make this work for you?”) and then made a decision all within nine days. And I don’t do things quickly.

Continue reading →

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September 17, 2014 · 3:35 pm
July 21, 2014 · 7:53 am

a confession

I’m afraid to tell people that I’m a writer. I don’t feel like a writer. I want to be a writer – I’ve wanted it since I was about ten or eleven years old – but now, when I’m trying to focus on it with concentrated effort for the first time, trying to follow this longtime dream – I’m afraid to tell people.

Instead I say “I’ve got work to do” or I list the other half-dozen things that I might do during the two days that my son is in daycare. “You know, I’m cooking a meal for a friend that had surgery, and then I’m observing a bit of teaching for the girl I mentor and then I’m coaching a chamber music group and then I’m writing a proposal for a magazine. And then I’ve got to learn the music for that concert next week.” It’s never “I’m writing.”

Is it because I haven’t yet been published – outside the classical music realm and world? Is it because I feel like I’m just going through the motions – imitating what I imagine to be the life of a writer (who’s also essentially a full-time mom and in charge of everything in the home)? Is it because I’m afraid to tell people what I’m writing about?  Continue reading →

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