Heather is an essayist, editor, CMO, mommy, and wife seeking stillness while in a state
of nearly constant motion. She lives, walks, and eats in the greatest city in the world: Chicago.
I Googled what to do when a bird hits your window. Make it comfortable, the Audubon site says, leave it alone if it doesn’t seem injured. If it does seem injured, contact animal control. There is no information about what to do if a bird hits your window during a global pandemic.
Read MoreI started writing this essay with the intention of providing advice for my sons as they grew into men. Some tips were specific (Change your socks every day); some general (Learn to be OK with failure), and some were based on my own life experience (Don't get married until you're 30). But as I observed my sons with a journalistic eye, I realized how much they can teach us all.
Read MoreWhen I did the post-first-date phone debrief with my sister, I confessed: He might be too nice for me. I am not that nice, what if I am terrible and break the heart of this nice man?
She admonished: You will go on at least three dates, and you will have fun. You deserve someone who is nice, who is nice to you.
So I did, and I did, and he was, and he is.
Read MoreWelcome to the New Year! Time to get off the couch and back to the real world where you are expected to wear pants and function in society once again. This year I’m setting goals through seasonal themes to keep me motivated beyond the New Year’s burst of enthusiasm. This structure offers a chance to check in throughout the year, rather than going out in a blaze of glory when Oreo launches a new flavor in January. (Side note: Chocolate marshmallow? That hardly seems fair.)
Read Morelove Christmas, every part. Cookies and food and seasonal music, yes, please. I make menus and gift lists, and I obsess about all the details. The kids and I count down to Santa’s visit, and the Elf on the Shelf (his name is Bubbles) is in full effect every night.
This essay should be right up my tinsel-laden alley.
But not this year.
Read MoreMy kids have so many clothes.
I’d like to blame my Rockstar-shopping Mom, but she’s really miraculous to behold. If I happen to mention to her that the kids would use an extra rash guard shirt or some variety of pants - like clockwork - a package appears on our porch with said items, and extra treat or two and some paper green anacondas. (That’s a whole other story.)
Read MoreAt one point in my life, I used my maiden name as my middle name, and my husband’s last name as my own, but then my middle name disappeared. I remember seeing my ‘new’ name on some official document and I found it disorienting and unfamiliar.
Where was my name? Who was this? Where had I gone?
Read MoreIn my life I have been lucky to have the opportunity to travel around the world and across the country, but in my heart, none of them will ever come close to the vacations my family took when I was growing up.
Read MoreBabies are not good at communication. Beyond malodorous clues, the new little person that I was suddenly responsible for was really terrible at telling me how things were going. For those of us who thrive on positive reinforcement, this was frustrating.
Read MoreThe transition from an extremely competitive wanna-be athlete to a Mom on the sidelines is going to be tough for me, I just know it.
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