Our Nomadic Lifestyle Was the Best Gift We Ever Gave Our Kids

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My husband and I were living in Germany when I became pregnant for the first time. I had no idea back then how our daughter’s birth overseas would be the beginning of a family narrative that would shape my children’s lives so distinctly.

I received my doctor’s hearty approval—Kein Problem! — to vacation in Tuscany two months before my due-date. With great expectations, we joined our old German friends, transported to Florence in their sleek black Mercedes. Perhaps my doctor would have felt regret a few days later had he witnessed my husband and me standing in the wrong queue at the spectacular Il Duomo. We believed we were in line to see the cathedral, not climb to the top of the dome.

So it was, at 7-months pregnant I found myself climbing the notoriously winding, narrow stairwell of the Il Duomo. Four-hundred sixty-three steps with baby inside. It was claustrophobic. The air was stale. The thickness of other sweaty human beings clambering to the top pressed unforgivingly into my personal space: my rounded belly. Back on solid earth, I thought of what would have happened had I gone into labor then and there, in that tight, dank, ancient stairwell. I’d taken a risk, but since everything had turned out well, I was overjoyed to have that glorious view over Florence forever printed in my mind.

The mysterious relationship between pregnant woman and her unborn child is elusive. I was going on with my unorthodox life, carting my little unborn daughter along, unmindful of injecting a spirit of adventure in her.

We grew to be a family of four and lived for a short time in Dubai. Arabic music delighted us and we acclimated to the call of worship punctuating the air throughout the day.

Read the full story on SheKnows.

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#Happenings: Recap of NYT Modern Love event and more…

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What’s going on with me? Writing is a slow, difficult journey–always. While I have been writing, revising, editing and submitting essays here and there and everywhere, I’ve also been learning, listening, reading and growing in the art of the writing craft. Going forward, I’m going to be sharing resources and various things I’m learning here with you. So, let’s get started!
Last week, I attended the The New York Times Modern Love event featuring Editor Daniel Jones interviewing the witty columnists Ada Calhoun and Mandy Len Cantron. As a fan of the column and writer myself, it was the highlight of my week. Ada and Mandy provided lively and entertaining banter about love and long-term relationships. Their recently published books are expansions of their essays, published by NYT Modern Love (look them up!).
The popular Modern Love column offers amazing writing and thoughtful perspectives, all owing to the genius of Dan Jones, who curates the column. And if you enjoy podcasts, I heartily recommend subscribing to the exceptionally well-produced Modern Love podcast. #NYTModernLove #love #loss #redemption
On final thing. I do have essays pending publication and I can’t wait to share them with you!

My Daughter-Who-Doesn’t-Like-To-Read

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It’s #ReadAcrossAmericaDay and appropriately, my essay “My Daughter-Who-Doesn’t-LIke-To-Read” is up on Red Tricycle today. #books #reading #relationships #writing #motherhood #daughter 

“Thumbing through an old journal, my eyes landed on a paragraph written after my daughter, then 13, emphatically announced that she did not like to read.

I felt the same raw emotion as when I first wrote the entry, though years had passed. From my earliest moments as a new mother, I’d longed for my daughter to experience the same enjoyment from reading and falling into a good book that I’d felt in my youth. I pictured us walking in tandem in our mutual appreciation for stories, unpacking plots and characters for each other as we bonded in conversation. Like opening up a secret tunnel, reading would be my path into her life just as it would be her path to healthy adulthood.

But somehow, for all my best efforts, I apparently wasn’t raising a daughter who loved to read. Yet what she had said on that day long ago in fact didn’t match her actions. Perhaps, in her floundering place somewhere between child and young adult, she had issued that statement as a challenge.

Wanna fight, mom? 

Whatever the case, I was deeply grateful she felt safe enough to speak her mind.”

Read in full herehttp://redtri.com/my-daughter-who-doesn-t-like-to-read/