Adelaide had her filling done this afternoon and it went really well. In fact, she kept peering over the nitrous mask (a bulbous, hot pink nose piece) to tell me she loved me … in between bouts of raising her arm for no reason (to feel the sensation, I assume).

So she’s gonna be a happy drunk, which is good to know.

Thank you to everyone who offered advice and anecdotes. I was nervous and it was much appreciated. 

This toy was Adelaide’s reward for doing such a stellar job. I’m generally not a “if you do this, you get this” kinda parent, but I think bravery through pain—she seriously didn’t do anything but curl her leg up a little when they gave her the shot in her gums—deserves a reward. Especially when we’re talking about a three year old. 

Five minutes before the end, she said she had to go to the potty, which whipped the hygienists into a panic. They don’t know Adelaide is practically a camel. 

When we got to the bathroom, she immediately burst into tears. She was coming off the laughing gas and distressed over the numbness. I HATE the sensation of being numb, so I totally got it. We talked about why it felt that way and how it would be gone soon, but she was a little weepy for a while.

Still, this is a much, MUCH bigger treat than I was planning to give. I told her she could pick out a Barbie. She has a mermaid Barbie and has been asking for a friend for her for weeks, mostly citing the desire to share the clothes. 

But when she saw this, she said, “Tawny!!” and went on and on about this horse that I guess is on some Barbie movie she’s watched with her father? We talked about some other options, but this was what she really wanted

And she asked me politely … with half of her mouth still drooping.

So I caved.

I’m not made of steel … 

or money, but one problem at a time, people.

Adelaide had her filling done this afternoon and it went really well. In fact, she kept peering over the nitrous mask (a bulbous, hot pink nose piece) to tell me she loved me … in between bouts of raising her arm for no reason (to feel the sensation, I assume).

So she’s gonna be a happy drunk, which is good to know.

Thank you to everyone who offered advice and anecdotes. I was nervous and it was much appreciated.

This toy was Adelaide’s reward for doing such a stellar job. I’m generally not a “if you do this, you get this” kinda parent, but I think bravery through pain—she seriously didn’t do anything but curl her leg up a little when they gave her the shot in her gums—deserves a reward. Especially when we’re talking about a three year old.

Five minutes before the end, she said she had to go to the potty, which whipped the hygienists into a panic. They don’t know Adelaide is practically a camel.

When we got to the bathroom, she immediately burst into tears. She was coming off the laughing gas and distressed over the numbness. I HATE the sensation of being numb, so I totally got it. We talked about why it felt that way and how it would be gone soon, but she was a little weepy for a while.

Still, this is a much, MUCH bigger treat than I was planning to give. I told her she could pick out a Barbie. She has a mermaid Barbie and has been asking for a friend for her for weeks, mostly citing the desire to share the clothes.

But when she saw this, she said, “Tawny!!” and went on and on about this horse that I guess is on some Barbie movie she’s watched with her father? We talked about some other options, but this was what she really wanted

And she asked me politely … with half of her mouth still drooping.

So I caved.

I’m not made of steel …

or money, but one problem at a time, people.


Adelaide and I went to the Halloween Train this morning with friends and had just as much fun as last year.

I’m not sure why they put Christmas decorations in the tunnel—H’s mom thought maybe it was a Frozen nod since most of the character actors were Disney-esque this year (who knows)—but none of the kids seemed to notice.

Last year, Adelaide’s favorite part was the only scary character: a guy dressed in Michael Meyers coveralls and a skeleton mask. This year, her favorite was a Peter Pan tableau. Though it included sword-fighting pirates, Captain Hook, Peter Pan, and a badly wigged Tinkerbell—all appealing in their own way—I’m pretty sure what clinched it was Tinkerbell throwing the giant blow-up crocodile pool toy at Captain Hook and knocking him out of the row boat.

Adelaide’s a sucker for a good prat fall.


Someone’s school photos came back this week


My shirt is a SKELETON. We’re going to see the skeleton movie at the MALL and it’s gonna be SO COOL and I’m gonna see a skeleton and say [raising her arms roller coaster style and whispering] skeletons!!
Adelaide, 3 1/2, after Grampa asked (jokingly) if that was a bear on her shirt


parenting wabi sabi

In my 20’s, I was always thinking ahead.

Five-year plans.

Ten-year plans.

After school, I married my college sweetheart and helped support him through law school, always looking toward the house and the dog and those three children we talked about late at night under our faded t-shirt sheets. (Remember t-shirt sheets?! Do they still make those?)

I knew exactly where I wanted to go, but somewhere along the way, I stopped appreciating (or even paying attention to) where I was. I stopped being happy.

And I wasn’t the only one.

When my daughter was four months old, the college sweetheart left and I suddenly found myself in a terrifying new role:

Single mother.

I hadn’t intended on raising a child alone, and I’m not gonna lie, there was some panicking. I zombied through a lot of days. (Most of months four through six flash “file not found.”) But I got out of bed every morning (and several times during the night); changed every diaper; took all the temperatures; kissed all the boo-boos; and cheered every milestone. 

That started out being hard—sometimes it’s still hard—but how tough it was and knowing I was the only person around to remember everything made me savor all the good parts, to really take everything in and try to remember it. To be thankful for every single moment. And eventually, something funny happened: the present began to matter so much more than making a new plan. I was measuring my days in simple pleasures: a good cup of coffee; Adelaide falling asleep on my chest; sunshine on my shoulder blades; buttercups in the grass. Those things pulled me through to the next day and made me grateful not just for what was good, but also for what was hard.

Becoming a single parent helped me slow down and pay attention to my life, to surrender to and embrace its imperfections. I will always be thankful to Adelaide for that.


Adelaide has a cavity

This feels like a parenting fail.

I understand most people will have a few cavities in their lifetime—some people will have many and usually that has more to do with genetics than it does with oral hygiene—but it still feels bad.

I didn’t have my first cavity until I was 21. The second was discovered when I was pregnant with Adelaide, and it was a debate between the dentist, the hygenist, and me as to whether or not it was safe to wait until I delivered to take the tooth out. 

My standpoint?

No freaking way was I going to let him yank my tooth out—it was a wisdom tooth, so he recommended extraction instead of a filling—without pain medication … but also no freaking way was I going to take pain meds while I was pregnant.

He ended up letting me wait, although I did have to have an x-ray to make sure that was alright. (He put three lead vests over my belly.)

Adelaide’s filling is scheduled for Monday afternoon. She’ll be getting a shot of Novocaine (no fun for either of us) and laughing gas.

The laughing gas makes me nervous.

That David-goes-to-the-dentist video from a few years ago made me really uncomfortable and that was before I had a kid.

I had laughing gas when the dentist finally yanked that wisdom tooth and I remember being a little freaked out at how high I was. I actually asked them to back off of it a little bit, even though it meant I could feel more of what they were doing.

I’m wringing my hands about this.

Have any of your children had cavities filled? Did they have laughing gas? How was it?


I’m working outside on a 73-degree day. Warm sunshine. Slight breeze. Total heaven.

Happy Friday!


I always wanted a brother, but it looks like mostly what I missed out on was a whole lot of farting.

I’m cool with that.

(via themamalogues)


my new favorite neighbors

my new favorite neighbors