Their Bad Mother
Mush Archives

When I was little, my bedtime ritual always included a bedtime prayer, and that prayer always ended with a plea to God to bless the people that I loved. Jesus tender shepherd hear me,Bless thy little lamb tonight.In the darkness […]

What I am most thankful for, always: these two. There is no measure of gratitude – to God, to Nature, to the universe, to my husband, to myself – that is sufficient to the thanks they warrant. My little turkeys. […]

We watched the movie Up the other night. Predictably, I cried. I knew that I would. I’d been told that I would. Even if you’re not a crier, I was told, you’ll cry at Up. I’m a crier, so, yeah. […]

Four years ago, my daughter was born. Four years ago, I became a mom. My own mother used to tell me that she considered my birthday as much her day as mine, because it was the day she gave birth, […]

How is it that small children are even more adorable when they’re upside down? Does cuteness bend gravity in such a way that the very physics of sweetness are amplified when the object of sweetness is suspended in mid-air? Science […]

My babies are so far away while I’m attending to the affairs surrounding my father’s death, but still, they serenade me from afar: The reminder that there is such immense joy in my life, that that joy sings, is such […]

July 1, 2006. Her first Canada Day. A Wordless Wednesday Jam, which is now Wordless This Wednesday In History Wednesday. Because I am forgetting too much. Join me if you feel so inspired.

Emilia, June 2006. Be still, my heart. A Wordless Wednesday Jam, which henceforth is going to be Wordless This Wednesday In History Wednesdays. Because I am forgetting too much. Join me if you feel so inspired.

My Dad. Who was and is the first man in my life. Who has and will always have my heart. Who I love forever, and always. Happy Father’s Day, Dad. I love you.

I’ve always loved old clothes. Old things in general, really. When I was very small, and for a very long time after, when I was no longer quite so small, I would spend hours in an attic room in my […]