Motherhood & Words

I haven’t been much of a blogger recently (as you very well know), and I’m not only sorry, I’m embarrassed. I’ve never let myself go this long without at least one skimpy post. And it’s not that I haven’t thought about blogging; I’ve thought about it every day for the past two weeks.

I thought about it after I attended a wonderful poetry breakfast at a friend’s house a week and a half ago. One of the editors from Graywolf Press was there, and he offered a short poetry tutorial and described what made him say yes to a collection of poems. I nodded and laughed, my brain beginning to sparkle and snap with coffee and words. I wanted to post excerpts of a few poems he read: Tony Hoagland’s “America” and William Stafford’s “Traveling through the Dark.” I wanted to post about how the morning was bright and crisp, and when I left the breakfast, I stopped and bought a book—Jhumpa Lahiri’s new collection of stories—and how I drove home slowly, along the river, holding the rhythm and words of the morning for as long as possible.

I wanted to post about my ninth anniversary, about the lovely dinner D and I shared, the delicious bottle of wine we drank, the molten chocolate cake we devoured. I wanted to post about the first bottle (of milk) that Zoë drank. She finally—at almost 8 months old—took a bottle! Hallelujahs went up all around our house.

Over the last week I kept thinking oh, I’d like to blog about that, but then three days would go by, and it would feel too late. I’m afraid I can’t keep up with anything right now. It’s as if time is evaporating, disappearing faster than I can move, faster than I can think. November should be better though—post election, post my sister’s wedding—and then I’ll be back here regularly. I promise.

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I have been teaching creative writing for almost twenty years. Reading about other women’s lives and experiences has expanded my world. To be able to walk in someone else’s shoes, whether it’s for a moment or an hour or a few days, is an incredible gift, providing me with insight into the human experience. It takes courage to write your truths, especially if it doesn’t seem as though anyone cares, as though anyone is listening. Let me tell you: your stories matter, I’m listening, and I’m here to help you find the heart of those truths, to get them down on the page, to craft them, and to send them out into the world. Together, we will change the world, one story at a time.


  1. Elizabeth on October 30, 2008 at 1:50 am

    I just said the same thing today to someone I know: “I keep feeling like my life will resume when…” And she said, “your life is now.” I know what you mean about blogging and not doing it “on time.” I’m glad you’re back and look forward to more!

  2. kristenspina on October 30, 2008 at 7:32 am

    When I started my blog, I wrote every day. Over time, it’s evolved. I write less now, and at first, it bothered me that I wasn’t blogging as frequently, but I’m okay with it now. We’ll be here whenever you have something to share.

  3. Ines on October 30, 2008 at 11:24 am

    I cannot wait….but I can you know that, right?

  4. Susanna on November 8, 2008 at 1:00 am

    Hi, I just found your blog after clicking around for other moms who had preeclampsia/HELLP syndrome. I’m looking forward to reading more. It’s been nearly 9 months since I gave premature birth due to HELLP, but it is still so good to find other people who had a similar experience.


    p.s. (@your “about” column) organic hot dogs, mmmmmm. The “organic” takes out everything bad, doesn’t it?

  5. Sara M on November 10, 2008 at 12:32 pm

    I love finding moms who are doing what I love, only more of it and often better. Thanks for the inspiration.