1. We all sleep through the night. Some longer than others. But all deeply and well.
  2. This is a safe space. Here, I can fumble with earnest feelings, make overtures, be corrected, love and see and hear while also being loved and seen and heard–without fear of breaking something (or someone).
  3. I’m concerned about my seeming lack of concern. Vigilant for the line between peace beyond understanding and the laziness of denial.
  4. How did I get carrot bits in my sinus. Why.
  5. That is not how I wanted that to come out. Dammit, brain, you’re supposed to cover me.
  6. Friends who are also clients who are also friends.
  7. It’s been 48 hours since the door closed and the windows are already opening.
  8. School, lunch with family, impromptu park playdate. It’s way too much for her non-napping soul, and she’s a wreck before 5pm. (re)Learning that an overtired kiddo means a restless night for everyone.
  9. I step outside after dark to run to the pharmacy and pause on the stoop to appreciate the dewy warm air on my face. Spring is here. Summer is coming.
  10. This neti pot better work.


  1. Up at midnight. We grunt at each other, give sleepy hugs, then ooze into bed. Greeting one another after a week apart is different after being married ten years.
  2. I sit across a coffee cup and marvel.
  3. Not to make all new things, but to make all things new.
  4. “You gave me a gift! That makes my heart happy!” Melt.
  5. We share a cup of zucchini-dill soup and a slice of cheesecake with strawberry reduction at the cafe. She likes the soup but not the cake. I’m okay with this split.
  6. 90% of the best possible outcome.
  7. Mother’s Day. Crap.
  8. I still haven’t planned a party. This late, it may not happen. More guilt.
  9. Eff it. I’m sending it anyway.
  10. I almost miss today. I write a very bad list. Mostly because these days I’m so caught up in the juggling act that I fail to notice much of anything.


  1. Worship in the dark.
  2. I never want to fossilize, to freeze at an arbitrary point in this digital age, but I’ve been on Facebook since it was for college students, think Tumblr is still cool, am dismissive of SnapChat. I clearly have no clue what, how, why, or where things happen on the internet anymore.
  3. The hits keep on coming.
  4. She explodes. Again and again. Furious and helpless. She’s dropped her nap, but I put her down anyway, then go downstairs and cry.
  5. We’re entangled, like ET and Elliott.
  6. The farmer’s market looks more like a deconstructed food truck lot than an array of nature’s bounty.
  7. I think cutting the dairy out of my coffee is working. Dammit.
  8. Tohu wa-bohu into tov.
  9. She’s still rolling around in her bed, singing to herself. I’m annoyed but knew the consequences when I napped her. It wasn’t a question of if I would pay but when.
  10. It’s hard to go back to thinking of high fiber cereal sprinkled conservatively with chocolate chips as a “treat” after eating two entire Easter bunnies last week.


  1. Eight hours uninterrupted. Eyelids sore as if I didn’t sleep at all.
  2. At least it’s the day I can drink caffeine with impunity.
  3. I choose not to eat cake for breakfast.
  4. Their bottoming out isn’t surprising, although our reaction of borderline irresponsible peace is.
  5. All over the floor. And the train tracks. And her casts.
  6. How dare I feel bored, frustrated, or annoyed at spending all day, every day with her for three years when so many parents barely see their children after the first six weeks. Any second now someone will jump out from behind a bush and yell, “Check your privilege!”
  7. I eat the cake.
  8. I spend the extra hour in my warm car, listening to a podcast, eating cold leftovers out of a Tupperware, mooching wi-fi in drowsy silence.
  9. I open Scrivener. The words, the bones–they’re still good. But the old conflict is still in there, too. I close it again.
  10. Wherever you’re going, I’m going. I just wish I had a clue where that was.


  1. I read the words, but I don’t understand what Tolkien is saying. I’m getting duller (or is it “more dull”? See?!). Too much internet, not enough books.
  2. Coconut creamer just isn’t the same. I don’t know how you vegans do it.
  4. Pruning is not punishment.
  5. Flow state is a state of grace. Striving is the enemy of flow.
  6. Lemon sponge roll with marscapone cream and strawberry filling
  7. “The amount of crying about how much they don’t want to go to sleep is directly proportionate to the amount they absolutely need to go to sleep.”
  8. She’s picking up on something stirring in the atmosphere. Something unseen, unaddressed. It wakes her up at night. I guilt myself for not being whatever enough to protect her, though I’m not sure what she needs protection from.
  9. Systems are key. You (I) can never have too many systems.
  10. Females are strong as hell.