“Mummy Work.” He is a dissheveled bedhead, two-foot-nine-inches of pyjama-clad little boy standing between me and the front door. “You no going to work today. It Saturday.” It’s Tuesday. He…
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It feels like forever since I’ve blogged just for the sake of documenting, rather than to capture a specific event or milestone. Part of this is time – between my…
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“Oh Jo, your hair! Your beautiful hair.” — Lowering the mirror, my son looked up at me. “I not Jo. I Zaza! That’s Sashie-Bashie, he’s my brother.” We had been…
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Oh, my little girls. You are fifteen months old. You are sunshine and moonlight, brilliant in your own beautiful, individual ways – but so different. You, my Embla, firstborn daughter,…
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I don’t see him so much any more. Years ago, when the boys were small and made up more of biology than their own individual personalities, I looked for –…