Nearly a decade has passed since I started this blog. Ten years ago, I had just become a mother of 2. I was working for a maternal wellness company that I thought would support me as a mother. Instead, I was back at work just 6 weeks after my C-section, putting my newborn into daycare and sending my 4-year old to school for 10 hours a day.

I thought it was just what you did when working for a small company with a social mission. You needed to give up something for the greater good. I thought that this company was different — run by women, with a mission to support women — but instead, behind the scenes were wealthy MALE investors pulling the strings. The only greater good they cared about was their own profit. Another example of the patriarchy controlling and manipulating women.

In 2011, I left that shitty company. Turns out, I dodged a bullet because not long after they closed their doors literally overnight, leaving their mostly-female staff unemployed and without pay. The silver lining is that many of these smart and amazing women started their own businesses, and like me, are helping women and families live better.

I’ve never regretted my decision to stop working. Being my own boss is hella hard and unpredictable and stressful, but I’m doing it all on my own terms, not for anyone else’s greed and profit.

Cheers to women.


kind of blue

I’ve been feeling blue.

I’ve been feeling blue since the rush of September and back-to-school, when I thought I’d finally have time to myself, time to be productive. But I haven’t been able to get my shit together.

This dark, heavy beast of anxiety, depression, and feral laziness is singing a siren’s song to stay at home, don’t do things, it’s too hard. I’ve been nervous about going places, scared to talk to people, and feel sad and guilty about being scared and nervous. It’s a horrid cycle and I can’t get out of it.

I read this (from the amazing Glennon Melton) and I loved this, and I thought it was enough to get me motivated again. Then things happened that were sad, not to me directly, but to another family, and it was just so very sad.

I’m really good at talking other people off the ledge, but I never listen to myself.

I happened upon this late last night and it resonated with me. It’s a t-shirt, but it stands for something.

“TWLOHA is a non-profit movement dedicated to presenting hope and finding help for people struggling with depression, addiction, self-injury, and suicide. TWLOHA exists to encourage, inform, inspire, and also to invest directly into treatment and recovery.”

The latest blog post Beautiful. Loved. Enough. were exactly the words I needed to read.

When I woke up this morning, a familiar sensation of dread took over me. Thoughts of, “I have to do this,” “I can’t do this,” “What if I don’t do this?” filled my mind. I wanted to go back to sleep and hide from the world.

If you feel like this sometimes, you’re not alone. I’m with you, and there is hope.

TWLOHA has some resources to get you started. If this is an emergency or if you are worried that you or someone you know may be at risk for suicide, please call your local authorities (911). The hotlines below are 24 hours and are confidential.

National Suicide Prevention Lifeline 1.800.273.TALK (273-8255)

National Child Abuse Hotline 1.800.4.A.CHILD (422-4453)

National Domestic Violence Hotline 1.800.799.SAFE (799-7233)

Rape, Abuse and Incest National Network (RAINN)  1.800.656.HOPE (656-4673)

The Trevor Project  1.866.4.U.TREVOR (488-7386)

Veterans Crisis Line  1.800.273.TALK (273-8255) PRESS 1


On this day every year, my heart hurts and there’s a perpetual lump in my throat. I wrote this 3 years ago today, thinking about how I would talk to my kids about 9/11, and they are now old enough to just begin to understand.

We lost almost 3000 lives that day. It’s disrespectful that some decry the remembrances and memorials as political, pro-nationalist propaganda. Today is personal, and should make us think about how we treat each other.

To paraphrase philosopher and poet, John Lennon: No countries, no religion, imagine all the people living life in peace.

when working stops working

I grew up in central New Jersey. For 27 years of my life, this was what I saw every time I went to New York City. Seeing the Twin Towers meant I was heading to a magical, inspiring, bohemian, invincible place of art, theater, architecture, street vendors, music, nightclubs, weirdos, sex, drugs, and roasted peanuts. It is impossible to erase this image and the feeling of anticipation from my memory.

I still look for the World Trade Center towers in the Manhattan skyline. Even though I know they’re gone, I can’t help it. I want them to still be there.

That day, I didn’t lose any loved ones, even though I have dozens of friends and family who could have been there. That day, I was at work in Boston, so I didn’t feel the dust from the towers on my skin or in my home. That day changed countless…

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I used to think I didn’t want children. The world was too messed up, I was too messed up, family dynamics get too messed up. But I fell in love, and something about that love gave me hope that I could be a good mother.

Now I know. Becoming a mother changes your entire perspective of everything in life. There is no love like a mother’s love for her children. This overwhelming depth of feeling has given me a strength that I didn’t know I had. There is a primal fierceness in a mother’s love, and a superhuman strength that is also a mother’s greatest weakness.

I love my husband deeply, but, to be honest, I could go on without him. My boys, though… my life would be over.

I would do anything for my sons, anything in my power and beyond, to protect them, to give them the best life possible. Yes, I have no doubt that I would inflict mortal harm with my bare hands if it meant their safety. The other edge of that sword — they ARE my life now, and that vulnerability is terrifying. My life, my existence, my sanity, wholly depends on their well-being.

In a way, my need to protect them is purely self-serving. But I know I can move mountains for them, and I would not have found this strength until I felt the vulnerability of motherhood.


i love fall… NOT

My day yesterday:

Woke up in my preschooler’s bed. It was still dark. Tried to get more sleep in my own bed, but my 3rd-grader woke up and started talking. He doesn’t stop talking.

Somehow, I got both kids dressed, fed, brushed, lunch packed, in the car, and to school. I don’t remember any of it.

I booked over to a client’s to receive a delivery, style a room, and put up 3 cork boards in a perfectly straight line. Stepped out to pick up some accessories for said client, ate a teeny bag of peanuts, then went back to client’s house for finishing touches. 5 hours of work… phew!

I had planned to go for a run at this point, but went to Target instead. Training for my upcoming 5k is important, but the possibility of no toilet paper in the house is terrifying.

Made it home with toilet paper — 12-pack of Mega Plus rolls. Ate a bowl of cereal and some cheese and crackers. Fantasized briefly about not picking up the kids from school.

Got the kids. Came back home.

Made snack. Made dinner. Hubby comes home — yay!

I went for my run. 2.4 miles, 13 min/mile. I’m working on it.

Jumped in the shower and… day’s not done yet… got dressed for Back To School Night. Yippee.

Drove back to the kids’ school. Schmoozed and made friends with parents and teachers. Commiserated with like-minded mom about wishing we were wearing PJs and drinking beers instead.

Made it home by 9:30pm. Put on PJs. Ate dinner while watching my TV boyfriend Jax Teller kill a lot of dudes, until 11:20pm.

Finally, asleep in my own bed.

This morning, when it was still dark, I woke up in my preschooler’s bed.

me, too.

I Miss the Village by Bunmi Laditan. If only life was still that simple.

And if you haven’t read her blog, The Honest Toddler, DO IT.

the prohibitive cost of working

Just read this post via a fellow mama on Facebook. It sure brought back memories…

When Being A Stay-At-Home Mom Isnt A Choice.

My situation was not quite so dire, but I remember doing the math. Full-time daycare in Greater Boston costs around $1500 per month. Childcare for an infant or toddler will run close to $15,000 a year, and that’s if you go with a home-based, family daycare provider.

Preschool jumps up to close to $2000 per month, because you have to drop them off before 9am, and pick them up at 6pm. You can’t work “mother’s hours” and still get benefits, right? Preschool costs roughly average $20,000 a year, for full-time, outside-the-home, quality preschool with a curriculum and all that early-learning stuff.

And when your kids are finally school-age, you’re not out of the woods completely, because you’re still paying for before- and after-sch0ol, and you have to factor in summer camp. This is assuming you live in a city with good public schools, but, then again, even if the schools are not good, can you afford to shell out $20,000 a year for private school?

But don’t forget to save another $5000 for summer camp or a sitter or something, because when school ends, those kids can’t sit at home alone for 3 months.

Start with your annual salary. Take out 30% for taxes, and another 8% for health insurance. Then subtract the basics: food, clothing, and shelter. If you have even $10,000 per child left over, consider yourself lucky.

When I stopped working, I looked for babysitting work. I had 2 families whose kids I picked up from school a few days a week. Yes, they paid me, just enough to cover my gas and car payment, but it felt good to be helping out a few fellow moms.

NB: All numbers are based on my own experience, so don’t go fact-checking me. 🙂

snow days

just because it’s cold outside doesn’t mean your little ones can’t play in the snow.



your big ones, too…


Happy Snow Day from Boston!!

iPad is not a 4-letter word

I’ve been thinking a lot about this lately, with my 7-year son using an iPad at school, and doing Google searches, reading books, and listening to music at home. Even my preschooler practices writing, plays memory games, and looks at family pictures on my iPad.

They also love taking selfies.

I don’t want my kids to fear technology when it is the most amazing educational resource since the invention of writing. The problem is not screen-time itself. The problem is how to teach kids to responsibly use technology as a tool for good rather than evil. Like learning to cut food with a knife, the knife itself has no inherent moral quality, the morality comes from how the user perceives and uses the tool.

“The computer is, without question, the single most important tool of modern society. Our limiting kids’ computer time would be like hunter-gatherer adults limiting their kids’ bow-and-arrow time.” Peter Gray, author Free To Learn

Read this perspective on it: Technology and Natural Learning from City Kids Homeschooling blogger Kerry McDonald. She has a knack for putting into words what my gut is trying to tell me.

summer slide

For the first time in my parenting career, I was faced with the task of avoiding the dreaded “summer slide” for my rising second grader. A month into the summer, after a vacation in Los Angeles, his own 7th birthday party, July 4th, trips to the beach, and more birthday parties, I decided it was time.

I made him a reading clipboard, with his school reading log on it, and about 5 pages of suggested book titles. He dutifully highlighted books he thought he’d like. We went to the library every week, and I talked him into picking out 1 or 2 books at a time. I nagged. A lot. And I hated it. The nagging and the not reading and the crankiness.

Then I read this post from my favorite homeschooling blog, City Kids Homeschooling: Unschooling and the 3 Rs. And I realized… the more I asked, the more I nagged, the more I hounded and begged him to read, the chances of him ENJOYING reading would decrease exponentially.

Children are natural learners. Even 7-year-olds who act like tough guys. They have a curiosity about the world that we’ve left behind in favor of checking things off the list, getting the better grade, filling out the reading log. Parents can be overly focused on achievement, and so can our schools.

Why do we push our young children to complete activities for the sake of being finished with them, like Type A control freaks? Instead, we should be surrounding them with natural opportunities to learn. My son doesn’t care if he reads 40 books this summer or zero. He just wants to do fun things.

So I stopped talking about it. I brought home books from the library by the bagful, and I left them on his desk or in his room. Books about sharks, baseball, and dinosaurs. Books from his beloved Magic Tree House series, a graphic novel version of The Wizard of Oz, and picture books he could read to his little brother. I never mentioned them, I never demanded he read them. And HE FREAKIN’ READ EVERY ONE.

Not only that, but he was excited about what he read. He LEARNED things that he didn’t know before. Reading made him THINK.

And isn’t that the whole point of reading?