Column: Savagemama

j.crew Lost This Mama’s Address

So, I suppose I’m a little more boot cut than skinny leg these days. Maybe this is why j.crew seems to have dropped me from their mailing list. In their place these women with graying hair and laugh lines have found me. And if I take a close look in the mirror I can see why.

Column: Savagemama

Searching for My New Mama Role, Finding Madonna

Our first few weeks as a family of four have been filled with sweet, breezy days under the cottonwoods in our yard and a few rough and tumble nights that have made me and Seth question whether we can do this. I’ve found myself struggling with my new sense of self. Mama. Mama of two. Mama of two daughters. It all feels like a generous gift and an amazing responsibility.

Column: Savagemama

Letter to Eliza June

With the any-day-now anticipation of the birth of our second baby, I wrote a letter to my daughter, my first born, my so-far one and only:

My Sweet Eliza June,

Tonight you fell asleep with your hand under my cheek. We lay there together as you wiggled yourself still. I watched the curve of your nose, the thin line of your lips. I tried to memorize your tiny face in the early summer light as your eyelids grew heavy.

You are my girl.

Column: Savagemama

This Mama Has Come Undone

When I was pregnant with Eliza I couldn’t write a word. I could barely manage more than a few-sentence email. I thought if I started typing, I might never stop. This last month I’ve been feeling the same way with this pregnancy. One word and I keep thinking the dam holding back a tsunami of emotion will break, the stitching holding me together will come unraveled. If I start to type I'd have to tell you about...

Column: Savagemama

A Pumphouse of One’s Own

A few months ago, before a new baby was in the picture, Seth and I took Eliza for a walk down the dirt road we live on and I nearly had what my mother would call a conniption.

“I work from home,” I told Seth, “and I’m not going to be able to keep my job for long if I don’t get organized. I live in my car and I have stacks of papers everywhere. I can’t find anything. Eliza plays in my file box, she taps my keyboard with her drum mallet. I am at capacity for what I can do without having a place to write, to work. I can’t take on anymore assignments like this.”

I was at a fever pitch. I told him that some days, while Eliza is sleeping in the car seat, I cruise around town looking for a Wi-Fi hotspot where I can get a signal from the driver’s seat. I find a parking place, put the car in park, push my seat back and work or write until she wakes up and we have to keep moving. I am flexible but I’m not superhuman. If we are going to make this live-in-the-rural-West-work-for-ourselves thing work I needed a change.

Column: Savagemama

Top Ten Reasons I Love My Man Today

So it’s been a while since I’ve posted a column. I’ve not disappeared, I’ve just been watching a remodel unfold in our house. EJ is getting a new room (or getting a room I should say) and Seth’s dad is here for two weeks to help with putting up walls, installing heaters and basically turning our guest room into a kid friendly place.

So since Seth is working all day only to come home and work all night, I thought it time to list off the top ten reasons I love my man today. Here goes:

Column: Savagemama

Losing My Nose Ring, Not My Edge

Two mornings ago I woke up to Eliza saying, “Hey!” She was sitting beside me, staring down at me. I’m not sure how many times she said this before I woke up but after seeing me awake, she smiled.

“Hey!” I said as I sat up. I ran my hand through her curls, then because I’ve been waking up really congested these days, scratched my nose with the back of my other hand. I felt something hard and pointed and when I pulled my hand away I saw my nose ring had fallen out. A tiny L-shaped piece of metal, the thing was prone to stick out but it rarely came out by accident or otherwise because it was such a pain to get back in. I sat looking at it in my hand and instead of putting back in the hole in my nose I put on the shelf next to my bed. I scooped Eliza up and headed down to make breakfast.

But leaving the nose ring out doesn't mean I've lost my edge.

Savagemama: Notes From a Pregnant Mama

The Sound of a Sibling

We met with our midwife a few weeks ago at her home. Eliza completely ignored me as she had discovered a red toy car that she could climb in and out of and open and close the doors. When the midwife checked my blood pressure Eliza was in her own little world, and when she drew my blood, Eliza was happily playing with our other midwife’s daughter.

But when our midwife checked the baby’s heartbeat, Eliza snapped out of her play-filled trance and walked over to me. She looked at me with one-part curiosity, one-part confusion. Then she climbed on my lap and reached for the instrument on my belly as though she was investigating the cause of this strange but primal and familiar sound. She rubbed her hands in the gel on my stomach and curled up beside me. It occurred to me that she will rely on me and my cues to guide her through these next few months. It seems like a big, important and, somehow tender, responsibility.

Savagemama: Notes From a Pregnant Mama

Watching Mommy

When I took a shower yesterday morning, Eliza cruised around the bathroom chatting to herself, playing with everything in the room besides her toys. When I got out and dried off I went through my “beauty routine” of putting lotion on my face. Then I put a little product in my hair. My hair is wavy in this dry, dry climate and requires a little something to give it some life. As I ran my hands through my hair, I looked in the mirror and could see Eliza standing behind me, running her hands through her hair, mimicking me. I almost started to cry but instead picked her up, kissed her and sat her on the bathroom counter so she would be closer to me. I'm finding I don't want her too far from me these days.