The Late Arrival

The test said I was pregnant. Undoubtedly. Indubitably. Pregnant. The shock of it all drove me to the vodka I brought home as a souvenir from our recent cruise, and to the precipice of stress smoking. You know, the kind of smoking where you can hear the inhale followed by a 30-second whrhhhhhhh of an exhale that obliterates an entire cigarette. But then I remembered, no that can’t be a thing because this little person inside of me will also be drinking whatever I drink and can’t even roll down a window for air when I whrhhhhhhh . That person arrived a day early. A couple days later, I wrapped her up to go home with us. All I could think was a WHOLE NEW PERSON IS COMING HOME TO LIVE WITH US FOREVER .  Then she did this: Oh precious little girl, we have NO idea what we're doing! I burst out in tears. I mean, I just wasn’t prepared and I knew it. We brought her home anyway. She was funny, smart (way smarter than me and I knew that when she was three-years-old and called ...

At a sneeze away from fifty, I’ve been thinking about my teen daughter muddling through college or career, relationships, student debt and just figuring out who she is. She’s not too far off from nineteen -- the age I was when my mom died. I remember having to discover so much -- too much -- through bumps on the head instead of through her guidance. Now, I figure if can tee my daughter up to be okay by shuffling in all of life’s instructions in the next couple years, AND guidance to learn to be at peace when I’m gone, I will have done my job. We talk about how although I may, but do not plan to make an early exit, there is that reality. The cool thing thing is that the more she grows in her faith, the more she understands that no one’s spirit ever dies. That while we do miss the person’s “container” for awhile, we will eventually be reunited with their spirit. She gets it. And I feel good about that. Except she’s a little zealous in her comfort sometimes. Like, she’s g...

It's Mother's Day, an appropriate time to not only give a nod Heavenward to moms who have gone on before us, but to also acknowledge how we got here as moms. And by we, I mean women, men, adoptive moms, aunties, uncles, grandpas, grandmas and a whole host of people whose path brought them to motherhood. It's in this spirit I share a story I had the pleasure of telling at Milwaukee's fourth annual Listen To Your Mother Show . Because it's all about the journey; and sometimes, despite all the preparation we think we've done, we find out that getting to the destination we call Motherhood is half the fun...depending on your definition of fun. Expecting A Baby 13 years ago, my husband and I found out we were going to have a baby. Actually, we were expecting a baby . I was going to have the baby . I’d be a first time mom; and my body - this baby’s first home. When the doctor gave us the news, I thought to myself: There’s a tiny human inside of me . ...

It was the day before Mother’s Day and I found myself at the store to pick up a few forgotten items. I didn't bother trying to be presentable and ended up at the store wearing a baseball cap, sweats and sans make-up. Pretty. Anyway, I hurried past the card aisle, anxious to get the stuff I needed and get out. Glancing up the aisle clogged with people searching for last minute Hallmark well wishes, something strange happened. Or didn't happen. For the first time in nearly thirty years since my mom’s been gone, my internal GPS didn't point me to that aisle. The divining rod in my head didn't lead me to search for a card for my mom. There was no back-to-reality jerk. No surprisingly/unsurprisingly painful reminder realization that, no -- there’s no need to buy her a card because she’s not here anymore. This is a good thing, I think, but I can’t tell you how I got to this place. There still isn't a day that passes without me thinking of mom, wondering what...

Mothers are the Creators of Normal. It’s a heady, intimidating responsibility, but it’s what moms are and do by simply living, breathing, walking and talking. The Creators of Normal shape protocol for phone call behavior. Whatever your urgent news is, if Mom is on the phone you do not interrupt her conversation. Instead, you wait – wait I say – for her to say in this order : “Mmm, hmmm. (one beat) Alright…(one beat, two beats) Uh-uh…(one beat, two beats, three beats)” You’re almost home free now, don’t interrupt. “Alright (one beat)…BYE-BYE!” Click. She might roll her eyes and impatiently ask what you need. Go ahead and tell her. Tell her! This is important stuff. “I hafta potty.” The Creators of Normal dictate color. Which is fine, if the Creator isn’t one of the rare cases of a color blind woman. But if the Creator is color blind, then she may ask you to fetch her brown purse on any given Sunday as she’s prepping you and herself for church. Obediently, ...