Apparently my kid is a handful. He spent a week with his Grammy and his Gramps in New England, and Dave and I went to pick him up at the end of the week. They’re pretty crazy about him, and enjoyed having him around, which makes me endlessly happy and grateful. But keeping up with […]Read More My kid is a handful
I’ve been giving this alot of thought, or rather, I’ve been smashing my head against the walls of the box. Kobo Abe wrote a book called (translation) The Box Man, about a guy who writes his whole story inside a box. This was an actual box, which he wore over himself so no one could […]Read More The thing where you’re supposed to be in a box.
And with that proclamation C reaches over and grabs my breasts. I explain to him that they are not shakers, not even maracas. I tell him that they are breasts, that they are part of my body, and that when he was a baby they made milk to nourish him. He doesn’t care about that. […]Read More These are your shakers!
I recently read something about how adolescence has been extended to 25. Putting aside for a second the probability that the psychologists extending the borders of childhood are likely trying to help people by making these determinations, what is it about adulthood that we so anxious to protect our children from experiencing? Why are we […]Read More Why are we all so afraid to grow up?