A Toast to the Skiing Years & Legacy Making

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There is a photo wall in my mother-in-law’s house of their family skiing. At the center are photos of Brett and his older brother Shawn learning to ski as toddlers in the 80s, when they donned sunglasses with a strap around the back instead of goggles, and fuzzy hats with a puffball on top instead of helmets. One of the photos is when Brett was maybe 8 or 9 years old and Shawn was 11 or 12. They are both wearing ski jackets hand-sewn by my mother-in-law, Karen.

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Where I've Written: A List

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Currently, at a child sized table outside my daughter’s ballet class, next to my giggling son plugged into his tablet.

At the old Birdbath Bakery on Columbus the day after the city was hushed by a February blizzard.

In my bed on a Saturday afternoon with a locked door and the joyful sound of my husband playing with our children in the living room easing my mind.

On many runs around the lower loop of Central Park in all seasons, feet pounding words loose and lungs expanding enough to breathe those words back out on a page as soon as I get home.

At a small table in the back of Irving Farm where I know the lack of wi-fi will keep me focused on the page.

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A Love List

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I love the way apartment lights pierce gold through navy sky at dusk in Manhattan. I love the way the Bridger mountains turn purple at dusk in Montana.

I love the nights when the sunset creates a rainbow in the windows of the building kiddy corner from us.

I love the way my name sounds when my parents or grandparents say it. It sounds like I love you.

I love the sound of my kids laughing together.

I love walking instead of taking a cab.

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Taking Thoughts Captive

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October in New York City is beautiful. The tree canopy in Central Park is a blanket of orange, red, and yellow. The humidity fades and the temperature is perfect for taking long strolls through the city instead of cramming into public transportation.

But there’s another side to October in New York City that isn’t so lovely for mothers of very observant young children. New Yorkers go all out decorating for Halloween. Yes, there are beautiful displays of fall foliage and pumpkins of every color climbing the steps of brownstones. There are also horror movie advertisements on almost every bus and taxi, gory figures hanging outside brownstone windows, and skeletons dangling from trees. When my daughter was almost three years old, October felt like the entire city was a haunted house and I was trying desperately to shield my small child from all of the scary images around her. I was also praying every single day for God to show me how to explain these images to her but was equally nervous about messing up those conversations.

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