A Story {Let’s start at the very beginning. A very good place to start.}

Maya Angelou said that "there is no greater agony than bearing an untold story inside you." Virginia Woolf pointed out that "if you don't tell the truth about yourself you cannot tell it about other people." Do we believe this? When a story grips us is it because something of real life touches something deep... Continue Reading →

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Of a Slightly Different Flavor {But a rainbow of colors}

My fingers and cuticles are stained a deep pink from hours of manipulating beets. Washing. Scrubbing. Cooking. Peeling. Chopping. Pureeing. Testing. There may be spinach and/or fennel fronds in my teeth, and I'll be sure to check before heading out the door for an afternoon meeting. But my skin is clearing, my snacking includes a... Continue Reading →

A Story To Tell {Of Deepening Lines}

Micah snuggles into my neck, leaving a sticky residue of pureed bananas and crumbling graham crackers on my tired shoulder. His chubby fingers intertwine themselves in my hair, and he giggles at the sensation. Abby twirls in her latest costume get-up, talking non-stop with every waking breathe. Talking and talking back. Smiling sweetly and stomping... Continue Reading →

18 Weeks & A Prayer {A Not So Normal Update}

Today, Abby is 18 weeks old. Today she is about as long as a sweet potato and weighs nearly seven ounces. Today she is practicing breathing...practicing stretching...practicing grasping with her little perfect hands. Today, though, I can't write a normal update. I can't post photos of adorable pink baby shoes or an ever-growing bump. I... Continue Reading →

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