Worst Nightmares
I’ve never really been into Halloween. Of course, I’ll dress up in coordinating family costumes to receive our fair share of candy from fall festivals. I appreciate the full spectrum of pumpkin-flavored treat (even savory pumpkin-stuffed pasta shells). I take my kids on hayrides, paint pumpkins in the front yard, and buy candy apples no one will be able to bite into.
Still, I skip out on the spooky costumes and haunted houses. I take a different route to my kids’ school to avoid the lawn décor that creep me out. I scroll past the ghost-themed kids' shows on Disney+.
It’s not that I have a moral quandary with the holiday, I just don’t feel the draw to feel more afraid. I have enough fears without adding creepy clowns, howling ghouls, and beguiling witches. I don’t need more nightmares because my worst nightmares are often inside my own head.
The Measure of Our Days
Three women encircle my fifteen-month-old daughter in her nursery. She sits in the middle of them—babbling and grinning at the undivided attention. One woman hands her a block, waiting for her to successfully stack it atop another. When my daughter stands to her feet, a second woman makes a quick succession of check marks on her notepad. A third woman places a farm puzzle before her, pointing to each piece and entreating my daughter to repeat animal noises. I sit behind her, answering their incessant queries and straining my neck to glimpse the scribbles on their clipboards.
Even though this is my daughter’s therapy evaluation, I feel like they are evaluating me. Have I done enough for her in the past year? Advocated for the right medical specialists? Taken her to enough therapy appointments? Given her more of my (already divided) attention?
3 Truths When Life Feels Out of Control
Summer always wreaks havoc on our routines and schedules. Every week is different with vacations, swim lessons, and summer camps. Our days smell of sunscreen, hose water, and sticky popsicles. I want to savor the slow afternoons spent running around the backyard or curled up watching a movie. Yet my work deadlines don’t slow down, and neither do my kids’ appetites. The laundry continues to pile up with beach towels and swimsuits. I make packing lists, pack, and unpack—only to do it again the next week. As much joy as summer brings, I often feel like life is out of control.
As a woman who craves routine and structure, I search for ways to control these chaotic summer days. I scroll Etsy for a chore chart. I search for kids’ activities on Pinterest. I spend too much time in Excel trying to finagle the perfect daily routine. I begin my morning hovering over my color-coded planner.
