Momnesia

I know I'm about to alienate most of my (now-tiny) readership, but I have to admit something that will make me wildly unpopular. I'm tired of Adele. Yes, I bought her albums. And I enjoyed them. And Emerson used to sing along with her on the...

"Mom?" Emerson asked one evening, just as I was drifting off to sleep. I jerked awake. "Yes?" "Why ders bad guys in da world?" I really have no idea. Why ARE there bad guys in the world? We can talk about psychopathology and antisocial disorders...

Emerson is a happy child, who laughs a lot. But that doesn't mean that she hasn't been impacted by the changes in our lives. She sometimes wakes up in the middle of the night and peppers me with questions. Sometimes it's related to court proceedings...

"Tell me a story, mama," Emerson said. It's a nightly ritual. We read a book or we tell a story. Sometimes we share (mostly) true stories about relatives in childhood, like "The Time Mommy Fell Off Her Bike in the Middle of the Street and Cried...

Recently, Gawker gave us this awesome piece about small-town food journalism. The companion pieces are hysterical! It reminded me of growing up in a small town outside of Atlanta, Ga., and I thought I'd share my rambling memories. I remember when the...