Posts from the “Mama Sap” Category

Twelve is Lovely

Posted on September 16, 2016

I’ve always liked the number 12. I remember arriving at 12 on the multiplication table and feeling like a superhero. I was enchanted with the idea of a baker’s dozen and 12 + 1. It’s a nice round number, relates to the calendar, lunchtime and the magic of staying up until midnight. Last night into this morning 12 was about Briar. Today is her 12th birthday. I have not consistently written birthday posts or made huge deals out of age milestones, but today is sweet. I am reminded of how keenly September’s spirit imprinted on me as I waited for her arrival and then welcomed her. The taste of the air, the quality of the light, and the smattering of early-turning leaves always return me to the…

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Can I Talk to You?

Posted on September 12, 2016

We try hard to not mess up as parents, setting out with the best of intentions. The thing is we didn’t plan for the transitions and the way it all changes, as it should, after the switch from crawling to walking, preschool to backpacks and homework. The matrix gets simpler and infinitely more complicated at once. It’s easy to miss an invitation to talk or a cry for help, like blink and you miss it easy. I’m not sure I’m getting any better at being ready for the quiet, “Mom, can we talk” questions. Between the very real effect of stress on my body and the equally real threat that they’ll stop turning to me, I have to figure out a way. I found a quote early one morning…

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Nothing Lost About This Girl

Posted on April 12, 2016

I saw something shared online today that made me laugh out loud. The title was Study Finds Every Style of Parenting Produces Disturbed, Miserable Adults and despite my optimistic heart, I know it has shades of truth. I’ve made a concerted effort to try and identify the areas I think I need to work on the most—calling myself stupid, being vocal about not liking how I look, and not thinking about the implication of something before I say it out loud. The truth is I have been doing a really great job. Yes, I still struggle. Yes, I still have an internal voice that could peel paint and melt ice. The thing is, striving to not perpetuate certain things for my daughters has allowed me to caretake…

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Until One Day…

Posted on February 15, 2016

It was 10am and the girls were camped out at the dining room table which was scattered with arts supplies and notebooks. A fire roared in the wood stove, while a heat-drunk cat sprawled decadently nearby, paws akimbo. I glanced through the window at the outdoor thermometer, it read -8°. Avery and Briar were both in fleece footie pajamas, a post-holiday impulse buy spurred by years of longing from my long-torsoed Ave. When I was packing two nights before I called Finley into the laundry room, “Honey, I can’t find your footie pjs. Do you know where they are?” “No,” she said. “Well, if you don’t help me find them, then I can’t bring them with us to Vermont.” “Ok,” she shrugged. “I don’t want you…

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A Song We Travel By Heart

Posted on October 18, 2015

Music is always playing in the car when Sean drives. If we go for a long trip he creates playlists, if we’re running errands it’s the radio, and if we’re going somewhere for work he plays NPR. Music is something he considers at home, on the road, and even at the office. I enjoy music, but it’s nothing that I ever plan. When I’m driving it takes less than a block for one of the girls to ask me to turn on the radio. It makes me smile because I know it’s a part of Sean manifested in their souls. Music is always with them, either from a speaker or from their own lips. For me the constant is light, seeking out shades that help bulbs cast warm…

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