The tantrums? Nope. The snuggles? Sure. But you’ll know that when you see it. — Imagine this: a toddler melts down in the middle of a grocery aisle. The toddler’s mother is taking deep breaths, staying as calm as she can, wrestling her screaming child back into the cart while silently praying that no one will notice. But of course someone does notice, and it’s…

An exercise in both restraint and free-fall. It was… interesting. — I’ve always been skeptical of stream-of-consciousness writing. Part of that has to do with my dislike of such novels as To the Lighthouse by Virginia Woolf, which I was forced to read in high school and loathed to the bitter end. …

Tragically, a hideous witch cursed him at his christening. — Talking is overrated, am I right? The real question is, “what is he doing to reverse climate change?” Come to think of it, Barbara, what are YOU doing to reverse climate change? We are practicing Neanderthals, so his father and I only communicate in variations of “ugh” at home, and…

Test your knowledge of the famous novelist’s quotes… and the quotes attributed to her. — It’s no secret — one could almost say it’s a truth universally acknowledged, except I’m not famous enough for that — that Jane Austen is my favorite author of all time. Her writing is clear-sighted, astute, witty, romantic at times, and just plain funny more often than not. However, though…

Don’t let that prim cap and long list of serious accomplishments fool you. — If it hadn’t been for the Women’s Rights National Historic Park, I might never have heard of Martha C. Wright. No, not the cornbread lady. Martha Wright. Sister to Lucretia Mott. Women’s rights activist of the 19th century. Mother. Humorist. If you’d heard of her before reading this, you have…

If service is an act of worship, serving even “the least of these” is a way of serving God. — The Friday before Easter, traditionally commemorated by Christians as the day Jesus was crucified — Good Friday in some churches, Holy Friday in others — didn’t go the way I wanted it to this year. I couldn’t go to my church’s Maundy Thursday (day of the Last Supper) service because…

Love may come softly, but so does the Grim Reaper. — I see the hidden worry in your eyes, son. I know you’ve seen the way things are out here in the wild frontier. Perhaps you, like me, have reason to be deeply afraid. Well, that’s why I called you here today. From one first husband to another, let’s talk business. …

An existential pondering of my harassed hamstrings. — I’m sneaking some precious toddler nap time to write this, instead of doing the workout I probably ought to do. The reason? Well, hitting the publish button releases a bigger shot of dopamine than doing a dozen push-ups, that’s for sure. …