It was a dingy corner of a gym at a local community center during a simple 6th birthday party. I was chasing down the two-year-old, an interloper on the kindergartner’s birthday circuit, amidst hardened gum stains and up and down rubber-lined steps set against linoleum flooring. The building was dated—40s? 60s?—and I drank in that …
Boxes line the study walls, still packed. Stoic smiles traded in school hallways, in passing. I rush home to be enveloped in a quiet house that’s not mine. I let no one in. It feels, it is, temporary. A walk on wet sand without a trace. A swim through water without a wake. But I don’t …
I wonder if Lisa Adams knew that Dani Shapiro viewed her Twitter timeline as a brave and unconventional work of memoir. Perhaps she did. And I hope so. But the thought rattled around in my mind during this morning’s shower. In 7th grade, they called me fake. And I was. I know now (and probably did then) that …
Going There I set out on the open road towards Salisbury, Connecticut, reacquainting myself with the Prius. My beloved beast of a minivan—my comfort, my crutch—had to stay at home with the boys. I know where I am in that van. I let my mind wander—sinking into the past as I stared intently ahead. My …
“If you don’t get an au pair, you’re crazy.” My mother looked up from stirring the pasta water as we caught up about the weekend. I’d left her with my three young sons, aged five and under, while I escaped for a rare 24 hours alone and away in Manhattan. She’s one in a chorus of …
Dina L. Relles 