the infant mayor of westerhall bay

One night when Bean was about eight months old, we took the subway from my dad’s house in The Bronx to my friend’s apartment on the Upper East Side. He was still Snugli-bound back then, so it was an easy trip. Pleasant. Fun. 

We had a good night. He found her stash of cat food [...]

bean’s birthday

My brother has one of those video cameras with a little screen that you can flip around.

I guess so that you can use it to tape yourself? Yeah.

He brought it out on Tuesday to record Bean blowing out his birthday candles and opening his presents.

At first he kept the monitor where he [...]

a bit of bean bother

The other week I was looking for my debit card. It wasn’t where I left it. I *know* I didn’t take it anywhere, and it’s not like me to put things away in a place other than the place I always put them. (Note to young people: This is a good strategy for remembering things. [...]

why i call him “bean”

It started when he was newborn. 

It’s funny, you know? Because you’re pregnant for nine months, waiting for the baby. Anticipating the baby. Imagining the baby. Et cetera. And then! Labor and delivery, which is basically like military basic training, except condensed and in your vagina. And then you bring home the baby!

And what [...]


I am mother and daughter, teacher and student, writer and reader. I’m woman and lover, but never have been – and likely never will be – a wife.

I am a traveler, and I am fearless. I wear flip-flops in the security line, because it saves time, and I never check luggage if I can [...]

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