Oy. The things I’m seeing about Mother’s Day.
Maybe the problem is that we’ve tried to selectively apply a version of sainthood to motherhood. Or vice versa.
Now bear with me because I don’t know a lot about sainthood, and I don’t have an exhaustive understanding of motherhood in full, but “exhaustion” and “motherhood” are two words that, if I am ever turned into a school worksheet, will be included in the word bank.
Continue reading The Scent of Mother’s DayAnd I liked it.
Continue reading I Kissed 2023 on the Mouth“Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?”
Monday was my birthday, so it took on a little more weight. I started the day as I do most days, forcing myself to wrestle with that Mary Oliver line.
For a while now, I’ve worked on carving out havens in my life. I try to fill my havens with beautiful sounds and words and things to gaze upon and hold dear. Fill them with faces that smile and faces that cry, too, as needed. Fill them with people who are an honor to stand with, curl up next to, double over in laughter with, or log in and write with. People who will resist being grammar assholes over that last sentence.
Continue reading Different Cheese, Same Position: A Wildly Self-Indulgent Post
Jackie Pick 