I Have A Kid. Crazy.

Lily and Knight, Joy, India

A lot of women will never type a sentence like this: It is weird to be someone’s mom.

Fortunately most mothers, though, will have a thought like this: Being someone’s mom has brought me more perspective, empathy and patience than anything else I’ve ever been.

Of course, it seems my daughter is about three decades older than me, and I am raising a 70-year-old woman.

Here are some posts that talk about our relationship.

The Best Question

Tonight at dinner Lily asked, “Mama, what is your favorite question?” Well, quite possibly the one you just asked me, I thought, setting down my drink. “What do you mean?” I asked her. “You know, like, ‘who’, ‘what’, ‘when’, ‘where’, ‘why’ or ‘how.” More…

The Truth About Santa and Sex

Do you remember when you learned the truth about Santa? I don’t, but I am certain my daughter will. She was in fourth grade, maybe the last kid in her class to believe. The two of us were eating dinner at a restaurant I frequented in the months after her father and I decided to divorce. I didn’t yet have it together enough to cook at home. More…

To My Fifth-Grader, From My Fifth-Grade Self

I’ve saved all my journals from grade school onward, knowing one day my daughter would (gasp) want to read them. More…

My Daughter And I and the Places We’ve Been

We measured Lily the day before we left Nashville for Bangalore. We measured her against the living room wall at my former in-laws’ house, where we gathered for Fathers Day with my parents, my ex-husband and his parents, his brother and brother’s wife, and her father. Our family is complicated, and our Lily is five feet tall. During our trip to India, she bloomed. More…

The Things Smart Kids Ask Stupid Parents

I was responsible for her cleanliness and safety, her health and well-being. A year prior, I had been routinely pecking from a large cheese ball for dinner (on nights I actually ate dinner) and alternately puffing from Marlboro Lights and an asthma inhaler. More…

How Could She Possibly Think She’s Fat

My daughter, who is running headlong and awkwardly (as I did) into puberty, sees herself with the same skewed, critical eye as did I. She says her thighs are big. She says her lips (which she hates) are so big they make her eyes (which she loves) look “tiny”. She says her eyebrows are “out of control”. More…

Eulogy for a Pet Fish

This morning when she shook the bowl he didn’t move. She didn’t cry until I put him in the box and covered him with a paper towel. Then she sobbed. More…

Home School

Lily and I have needed some time for just the two of us. So I took the day off work, and she took the day off fifth-grade, and the two of us took to the garden. Here is what she learned, in her own words. More…


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