My Glory Was I Had Such Friends.

The title of Amy Silverstein’s memoir alone really grabbed me – I really relate to that statement. I’ve preached about the church of my good friends all over the world. I have had many occasions in my life to stop and realize, hey, I know a bunch of the best people in the world. How lucky is that? The author of this memoir is lucky the same way.

Books for single momsShe has friends she can joke around with. And they are the same friends who don’t expect this of her when she simply too exhausted by her heart condition to make another cute quip. They stay by her side when she has nothing to offer.

She has friends who send secret emails to each other about her – like a top secret help-our-friend-feel-better strategy team. Some of these emails details her hardest moments – with not a drop of irritation but with 2,000 gallons of let’s be there for her rallying cries.

She has friends who had a “light touch” when they were in their 20s – two decades later they now have the most profound relationships possible.

She has friends who take their friendships with her as a source of pride – people who are their best selves when they are paired with her. Friends who take pride in being a good friend to her.

She has friendships that have lasted through hard times, barely surviving but with a thin but constant thread of devotion to each other.

To quote a letter from one of her friends, written when odds were not in her favor…“You have lived a great life. It is in many ways heroic and historic. But while your disease has occupied so much of your time and energy, I don’t think of you as defined by it. I think of you as Amy, period: your sense of humor and irony; your creativity; your quick and distinct laugh; your generosity and friendship; your truth telling, even when it isn’t convenient.

You’ve touched so many people in ways you’ll never know. You’ve forced us to examine our lives and ask, What would we do if we were Amy? And I don’t mean if we faced your health issues: I mean, in our own lives, with our unique challenges: Why can’t we be more courageous? Why aren’t we more demanding and more direct? Why aren’t we more loving or more giving, in the face of struggle and pain?

I don’t know why. But I think about it a lot and I assure you, so do your family and friends.

You’ve lived a life that matters, one of great consequence. You’ve made people take notice. We are profoundly the better for it.”

I mean, who is cutting onions in here?! My allergies must be suddenly acting up…  Hell, I even want to be her friend now after reading this book! And I definitely want to write some love letter to my own friends.

I really enjoyed this book, the moments it gave me to reflect on my real, true friends and to ponder the kind of friendship I offer. Loved it from the title to the last word, a summer read of great consequence. But wait! There’s more! I just heard that there is going to be a movie version!


515KV8TLH4L._SX331_BO1,204,203,200_I recently read the book How To Be Everything. While I think the subtitle should actually be something about being a single parent, it is actually “a guide for those who (still) don’t know what they want to be when they grow up.” If you are one of those people, I think you are in good company. It seems like working at one career path for 40 years has gone out of style. I’m glad it has become more socially acceptable to have several different careers over time, because it has definitely been my path. And even in the moments that I’ve had people try to shame me about it, I’ve known that being an idea person with many interests has been one of my greatest strengths. I started working full-time when I was fifteen years old. Twenty years and three careers later I find myself once again standing at the edge of yet another great adventure. And I’m way more excited than I am intimidated.

The book puts into words what I’ve worked out only intuitively. But it got me thinking about what my own process of starting big, new projects looks like. For me, it looks like scrap after scrap of paper – making the numbers work and defining the best pitch for each audience. Once I get it right, I start right in. And I keep checking my progress against my scraps of projections. It’s a loose process, I think keeping me from analysis paralysis, but it works for me. I better get back to it! I think I have an exciting several months ahead.


The Wisdom of Moms

Recently, I was sweetly gifted the new book The Wisdom of Moms by Bridget Hamilton. It’s small book written in partnership with photographers of National Geographic and is full of amazing photos of mama animals and their young along with facts about the mother/child bond and inspirational quotes. When it arrived in the mail, I couldn’t read it right away because my kid immediately latched onto it and paged through the photos over and over and over. I love that he loves it and I love it as a reminder that good mothering (among many other things) really is: grit, tenderness, guidance, compassion and dedication. Single mamas are covering those bases 24/7 so we should give ourselves a pat on the back.

Looking at this book reminded me of some of the other books on my child’s bookshelf that feature just moms and kids. Some of them by design and some of them just coincidentally. Some of our favorites are:

Just Me and My Mom

A day of adventures of a kid and his mom.

Love Is a Family

How one single mom explains what makes a family.

Hi, Cat

A kid’s adventures in the neighborhood and coming home to his mom.

You Are My I Love You

A sweet little board book with a great rhyme about how much a mom loves her kid.

Mommy Hugs

Similar to The Wisdom of Moms, this one shows paintings of animal mamas and babies and how they show their love for each other.

Hope any solo moms out there had a great Mother’s Day yesterday. But everyday is Mother’s Day when you are a single mom so have a good one today, too!

Signs & Seasons

I’ve mentioned Freewill Astrology on here a bunch of times. I’m kind of a nerd for it and I read it every week. If you aren’t familiar with it, check it out, it’s pretty unusual for a horoscope and, I promise, you will not come away without learning something. It’s a good one.

Recently, I was reading my weekly horoscope and I decided to the the Freewill Astrology archives so I could look at the one from when my child was born. My child’s horoscope said this:

“Nourish beginnings, let us nourish beginnings,” says poet Muriel Rukeyser in her poem “Elegy in Joy.” “Not all things are blest,” she continues, “but the seeds of all things are blest. The blessing is in the seed.” I urge you to adopt this perspective in the coming weeks, Aries. Be extra sweet and tender and reverent toward anything that is just sprouting, toward anything that is awakening, toward anything that invokes the sacredness of right now. “This moment,” sings Rukeyser, “this seed, this wave of the sea, this look, this instant of love.”

Seems fitting for a newborn! And mine from that week:

The French verb renverser can be translated as “to turn upside-down” or “to reverse the flow.” The adjectival form is renversant, which means “stunning” or “astonishing.” I think you may soon have experiences that could be described by those words. There’s a good chance that a dry, impoverished part of your life will get a juicy, fertile infusion. A deficiency you have worried about might get at least half-filled. An inadequacy that makes you feel sad may be bolstered by reinforcements. Alas, there could also be a slight reversal that’s not so gratifying. One of your assets may temporarily become irrelevant. But the trade-off is worth it, Libra. Your gains will outstrip your loss.

My gains outstripped my loss – indeed. By far.

single mom recipesNow, I don’t spin my life on astrology and horoscopes but I find the topic fun and amusing. So when I heard about the book Signs & Seasons – An Astrology Cookbook, I totally wanted to check it out. It’s such a fun idea and seems like an even more in depth way to cook seasonally while learning about the mythology of the sky.

For the most part the recipes weren’t up my alley and I thought the photography could have been better. But some of the recipes were keepers and I and immediately made the incredibly simple Stir-Fried Snap Peas with sesame seeds. I called them “Open Sesame! Snap Peas!” – and 61hZK6cG6HL._SX348_BO1,204,203,200_.jpegmy kid loved it.

Signs & Seasons reminds me a bit of another book I really love called Full Moon Feast – which revolves around gratitude for what is abundant around the time of each full moon of the year, plus a lot of natural and cultural history information about each moon.

For someone who is not all that into holidays, things like these are fun, vibrant ways to stay in the swing of the seasons and mark the passage of my weeks and months. Now off to enjoy this spring weather!



When Things No One Wants to Happen…Happen.


Everyone I know is going through something difficult right now. The last throes of grad school. Multiple miscarriages. Assault. Extreme friction with an ex-partner/current co-parent. Workplace harassment. The death of a loved one. Car accidents. Robbery. Struggles with addiction. Broken bones. Infidelity and divorce. A damn toothache. Just in case you forgot for a second – life is hard ya’ll.

If you haven’t heard of the book When Bad Things Happen to Good People, I don’t know where you have been because this sweet little book has been around for 35 years. Yes, it’s true, very fittingly it came out the year I was born. And people have been recommending that I read it for almost that long so yeah it’s pretty much my destiny. It always sounded like such a fun read, I just never got around to it. Kidding. It sounded fucking terrible and why would I ever want to pick that up and dwell on the bad things?

Well, a time I’m trying hard to be grateful for has arrived and I can now say I have finally scratched that book off my list. Go me! And, not surprisingly, it turns out to be as full of helpful thoughts as I would hope a longtime 4+ million copy bestseller should be. Wise words on why people victim blame? Yes please. Bad things seeming to make a bigger impact after periods of feeling like life was getting “put together?” Makes sense. Shifting your vision to realize life is all randomness and chaos and not one single person can walk a path that will prevent all bad things from happening to them their entire lives? Amen. Even Einstein tried his best to disprove the quantum physics of things happening at random?! Now we are talking. We all want to calm and align things. Make them smooth enough to have a happy, peaceful life 100% of the time. But forget it, that is too tall an order.

So guess what? The only guarantees are that both more bad stuff and more good stuff are going to happen to us. Yay! Not in equal quantities though so don’t get too excited that life is going to go and get fair or something. I guess the point is to get comfortable with that and at least poof be gone with the shock that goes along with something bad happening. Because senselessly bad things don’t happen to good people. They senselessly happen to everyone. No way out of that one through good deeds. Like the author says, the rules are “NO EXCEPTIONS FOR NICE PEOPLE.” Move along please! I mean, if some people were so damn nice that they were somehow then immune to bad things happening then they could jump out of windows and airplanes and marriages and anything else with no consequences. I’m pretty sure if some people had immunity like that the Earth would just have to tilt off its orbit and die. So, time to get good at the art of suffering.

We get to be here, to arrive here, (usually) because there is truly so much good in the world. It’s a miracle gamble that each of us is here at all. But that good really does kind of serve us up for the bad. It makes the bad things an option at all. The only time something bad can’t happen to you is if you don’t exist. We get lucky sometimes and dodge some bullets. But that means we are still here for the next bullets coming our way. And staying here in between bullets means we amass more goodness in the interim, raising the stakes, increases our investment in faith in humanity, and makes the next bullets feel that much more painful. Wash, rinse, repeat. A blessing? In fucking disguise sometimes.

It’s ok to be angry at the situation. People are afraid of anger and will want to hush you up. Don’t listen, let it out. We then try to give the bad things meaning to make us feel better and our pain feel productive. But there is no inherent meaning in them. Thinking bad things are somehow our fault is to think too highly of ourselves. No one has that much magical power. Sometimes we get mad at ourselves when bad things happen and we punish ourselves. People have a deep belief that if some “higher power” did something to a person, well he must have deserved it so why should anyone treat that person better than god/the universe/etc did? Things can really snowball from there.

I like this book. I get it and I feel it deeply. I think it’s a must-read for hard times. But I still think that some things just plain should not happen. To anyone. Period. And I remain troubled in getting around that. I’m not being negative, I’m not standing in my own way. I’m just in it and I’m going to be in it until I’m not. I’m sorry each time I find that is uncomfortable for anyone else. It sure as hell is uncomfortable for me. There is no way out but through.


Places we have known and loved.


We’ve had quite a journey since my kid first hitched a ride in my uterus. We’ve had homes, we’ve been homeless, we’ve kicked ass and taken names (mostly the taken names part – like Santa Claus scroll style), we’ve been honored and been lied to, we’ve been healthy and sick, we’ve defiantly walked in the rain and plowed on through uphill obstacle courses together, we’ve marched too many times for too many lost babies of too many lost mamas, we’ve forged friendships and learned new words together. This child is going to be four years old soon and I wanted to walk down memory lane of some of the places we’ve lived and known and loved.

  1. Stuyvesant Town, NYC. I didn’t even know you were there with me until move-out day. Such a quiet little being. I was packing up all of my stuff in boxes to send back to California for a month off before moving to my new position in a state I had never been to. I ran out of packing tape. It was around midnight and I walked in the humid and sparking Manhattan air to Rite-Aid to buy more. I don’t know why I also bought a pregnancy test. I never slept that night and I felt unreal the whole next day, traveling home. A few months later hurricane Sandy would flood that apartment, both baptized and heartbroken. Thank you Corrine.
  2. Wilmington, Delaware. Where I decided to know you and love you. I will never forget walking the streets of downtown – from home with my surly and (unintentionally) hilarious French roommate, to work in the downtown of the most segregated city I have ever lived in. Hearing white people talk dirt about Black people while carrying one in my womb – like gestating Jesus. You will be persecuted and you will be revered. You are immaculately uncorruptable even as they defile you for daring to exist. I started a lifelong conversation with you there and I never felt less scared and less alone even as almost everyone piled rocks onto my crumbling world. You became visible and never have I ever had anything before that so surely could not be taken away from me. Thank you Walnut and 11th.
  3. A yellow house in Fruitvale, Oakland. We moved in one week before you were due to arrive but it turned out to be only one day. I wonder if you will always have perfect timing. In three months I turned our lives around from being fired for being pregnant and from the couch-surfing, oasis-searching pilgrimage that would initiate me into exactly how much people hate single mothers. I landed a job over the phone and shocked all by walking in – a very round eight months pregnant. When confronted my eyes turned to steel and I said what of it? Implying – try me, I will tear your face off. Only planning to show the world the grace of being fired for being pregnant once. I made myself invaluable to that team by day and I posed nude for long hours at art classes by night – rebuilding our fortune from one penny. Then came one bumpy bus ride and a mile pulling my briefcase behind me home. After that, my water broke so loudly, I will never forget it. You were born in that bed that I had only just bought off Craigslist the night before. Thank you birthplace.
  4. The Secret Garden. Thank all gods that we found our garden. It has kept us from endless arguments through many ages and stages. It has been the invisible other parent teaching my child how to walk and dig, speed around with a wheelbarrow, swing a mattock around like an old pro. We have fallen into your pond and played hide and seek and lost and found each other many times, picked up worms and eaten from the never-ending buffet of fruits and veggies. It is not ours alone but it sure has felt like it. Our billion dollar backyard. Thank you garden.
  5. That borrowed apartment for a month. I didn’t think we would be homeless ever again but we somehow made it through once more with more than just a little bit of magic – three months worth this time – ending in one sweet month of care-taking a friend’s apartment. I saw the dark side again and said oh hello again I’ll see you later you don’t scare me anymore. Your crib was in the middle of a room with antique swords mounted all over the walls. Could not have felt more symbolic or more safe. Saying – try us universe, we will. TAKE. YOU. ON. You took your first real steps there. And so would my heart, which would practice for three more years until it could take off. Thank you John.
  6. My bed. The spot you were born. Where I’ve collapsed in tears because I don’t even know where to begin. Where I have watched myself meditate and grow strong enough to close doors on people we don’t need in our lives. Where I’ve cuddled you and where we practice for our world famous, leg balancing, acrobatic team. Where I’ve stared at the walls and asked why why why like a proper Jew. Where I’ve scrawled notes full of numbers that seem like they will never add up. Where you still nap for HOURS because – damnit – you are a good sleeper. Where a dear friend spends the night so I can go out on the prowl for midnight snacks, cool night air, to exchange looks with strangers and sneak myself into movies, dance/boxing/yoga classes, concerts and friends apartments. Thank you bed.
  7. Everywhere I follow you and you follow me, too. We are quite a pair. Quite a team. We have been through some real shit together and you have had to grow up too quickly sometimes. I’ve never trusted anyone more. I’ve never trusted myself so much before I found you. We love each other no matter what – and there sure has been a lot of what. We have been each other’s lighthouses and I’m so glad you are the one by my side. My little sidekick, I love you.


Intentions / January version


I’ve been doing these “intentions” posts every month for a year now and this is the twelfth and last post of the series. I’ve really enjoyed it, it’s like a little reset button in the middle of so many busy days. And it is nice to go back and have this kind of record of what our year has looked, smelled, sounded and tasted like. Looking forward to a new written ritual for the upcoming year!

Eating / Random veggies from our CSA farm. It has been fun to experiment with surprise fruits and veggies!

Drinking / Water, water, water… Trying to stay ahead of the game!

Practicing / Keeping open time on our calendar. I tend to like to schedule things out. A lot!

Learning / How to slowly put together a proper tool kit for a child. Planning on ceremoniously adding a new tool/skill for big milestones in my child’s life.

Trying / To treat myself as I do my child. Remembering to feed myself, calm myself, rest myself, be supportive to myself. So easy to just forget these things…

Playing / Hours and hours of paper airplanes, balloon tossing, nighttime flashlight walks in the neighborhood, reading tall stacks of books.

Loving / Hallway handstands! Can’t seem to stop myself.

Reading, me / You Are Your Child’s First Teacher. And Full Moon Feast.

Reading, kid / Funnybones. And finally read him The Giving Tree. Not sure how I feel about that one though…

Anticipating / The start of our new preschool program. Who knew what a journey this would be… A lot of thought has gone into this and once I committed to the vision – it has all unfolded kind of seamlessly. 2016 went out with a big bang of empowerment by co-founding our own preschool group.

Wearing / More like wanting to be wearing…these socks. Pretty sure they would warm my feet and my soul. That company makes so many funny ones…

Cooking / We have been really into making scrambled eggs together in the mornings. Seems almost too simple to note, but it is such a nice start to our days lately. It has turned into a kind of meditation.

Planning / A little candle-making experiment. We are going to make rolled beeswax candles, hand-dipped candles and something that I remember from my childhood – ice candles!

Wanting / The Wild Unknown Tarot card deck.

Staying in and reading the internet: links to look at.


Top 10 classical pieces to play for your child.

It’s cabbage season! So I’ve been making variations of this recipe (turkey and vegan versions). A great budget meal and freezes really well, too!

We’ve been baking these black bean brownies to cut all those holiday sweets off at the pass!

I loved this interview of a single mom – especially her description of her daily rhythm.

Thought provoking graffiti.

Warm sock season! Love these wool ones for my kid.

Just subscribed to Taproot and it’s awesome. My kid like it, too!

Stop, drop and give me 20!






Intentions / December version


Eating / Tempeh cooked with purple cabbage, broccoli, kale from the garden – plus a splash of ume vinegar, a sprinkle of salt and some sriracha. Could eat this everyday.

Drinking / New favorite tea for this cold and flu season – Tulsi + ginger.

Practicing / Making a home that is cozy and safe from the crazy world outside the doors.

Learning / It’s not that everyone else thinks everything is ok. It’s that most people are reluctant to speak up when something is wrong.

Trying / To make preserved lemons. Yum!

Playing / Water protectors!

Loving / This Maine Woods candle I found for an awesome friend. Totally want one for my home, too!

Reading, me / Unashamed. How to Party With an Infant.

Reading, kid / Over and Under the Snow. Grandmother Winter.

Anticipating / A quarterly little day trip tradition with another mom and her kid, a holiday lights train ride, the symphony’s production of The Snowman.

Wearing / …out my bamboo steamer basket.

Cooking / We made a vegan pineapple upside-down cake. And it was delicious. Thinking about which cake to bake next…

Working / On remembering that mom guilt is bullshit.

Wanting / A Berkey water filter. Expanding my cooking business and would love to use filtered water in my recipes.