Yesterday I was picking up Luke from his Quaker school when one of his friends started telling him about the violent video game he had played at the home of one of their first grade classmates. Then the boy turned to Luke and said, “When you grow up you won’t have to be a Quaker, so you’ll be able to play as many violent video games as you want.”It’s a good thing I’m a Quaker, I thought, because otherwise I’d wring this kid’s neck.This moment was frustrating on so many levels. First, there is the obvious fact of my own violent tendencies and the difficulty of being a good role model while harboring vicious thoughts toward children who are only introducing us to the wider [...]

Ever since my conversation with Miriam and my trip to NY, I’ve just been cranking with my writing. Last week I wrote an essay called “Sex and the Third Grade Girl” and yesterday found out it will be published by Mothers Movement Online. This week I also finished an essay about race called “Learning to Be a White Liberal” and sent it off to a magazine. I haven’t felt this productive in years. Then it hit me yesterday: this is the first time in over nine years that I’ve had six hours a day to write without having to teach, care for my mother, or watch a young child. No wonder I’m actually getting things done.I’m so grateful that I was with my kids a [...]

I just had one of those moments when many of the things I’ve been thinking about came together in a flash of clarity. Let me explain.Nine days ago I had coffee with my friend Miriam Peskowitz and her cute new baby to talk about writing and mothering and how to get important ideas out in a book market focused on celebrity and the simple pitch. We commiserated that the books that got publicity were the ones that can be summed up (rightly or wrongly) in one catchy phrase. The conversation with Miriam motivated me to go meet my agent in New York to talk about strategies for selling my book (a memoir of my first five years of motherhood). On Tuesday, we had a nice [...]

Last night Megan and I had another argument. On the surface it was about celery, but really it was about respect and the fact that I don’t feel my nine-year-old gives me enough of it. Of course, Megan thought it was because I wasn’t giving her celery.The usual spark that ignites my rage is her tone of voice; condescension, disdain, or sassiness can all work me into quite a state. It feels very important to me that we don’t allow disrespectful backtalk, though I encourage the children to disagree with me in civil tones. The problem is that sassiness is more difficult to enforce than other types of discipline infractions. Tone of voice is subject to interpretation and sometimes in the ear of the listener. [...]

I'm still recovering from the two days school was closed for President's Day. Between the holiday and a long list of exasperating chores, I haven’t had time to write in a week. This state of affairs has made a few things clear: 1) If I don’t write, I get cranky (a fact I’ve observed before but periodically forget); and 2) Computerized corporations will be the downfall of humanity.First, I have to complain about the corporations that are using computers to replace common sense. Let me preface this by saying that I am not a Luddite. I love laptop. I make use of many modern conveniences, including automatic deposit of my paycheck and automatic withdrawl of my phone bill. My mother also appreciated these services, correctly [...]

I’m not sure who is still out there reading this, but I’m going to try to use this post for discernment feedback. As I’ve written before, I’m trying to figure out what work to do next. There is one idea for a book that has kept coming back to me over the years, so I’m going to post a few paragraphs below and see what thoughts they evoke. The general idea would be a book length work called The Wisdom to Know the Difference, based on many personal interviews and covering issues ranging from the individual (like birth and death) to the societal/global (like poverty and the environment). It might start something like this:God grant meSerenity to accept the things I cannot changeCourage to change [...]

For three years—the three years when Luke was nursing—I taught a class at Pendle Hill titled “Discerning Our Calls.” I could use a class like that right now, so I find myself trying to remember the things I taught others.The first stage of discernment we discussed was opening a space to listen. Often the business of daily life keeps us from attending to our own thoughts and feelings, let alone listening for divine guidance (which is how I understand discernment). I was reminded of this last night when Tom asked me how my day had been, and I felt embarrassed to admit I hadn’t done very much. I’m used to packing some accomplishment into every minute the children are in school. Going to the gym, [...]

I wonder if it’s time for me to start thinking more about the meaning of my mother’s passing. I haven’t dwelt on it, I have to say. I’m not sure what, if anything, I’m repressing: grief, anger, relief? Mostly I’ve been fine. However, in the last few days, I’ve started feeling a little oppressed by all the things in our house that belonged to my mother, even though I love some of them. The one day we tried out her bed in our bedroom (where we already have two of her dressers, a bookshelf, two lamps and two pictures), Megan looked around and said, “Wow, it’s like all Grandma in here.” The bed is now in the dining room, awaiting a new home.I find myself [...]

Last week was the first since May that I didn’t write here at all. The main reason was that I was totally focused on getting my mom’s apartment empty by the end of January. I’m happy to say that mission was accomplished, with the help of many friends, all of whom were coaxed into taking a few things home with them. I also delivered four loads of thrift store donations, recycled at least eight bags of papers, filled a friend’s minivan with rags and things that she’s going to bring to a special recycling center an hour away, sold several boxes of jewelry and books, sold the couch my grandfather died on, donating a hearing aid and several glasses to worthy organizations, and carted an [...]