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.
One day during a miserable time in my life, I was wandering around a neighborhood store when I saw a small, gray stone with the word Truth painted on it. I picked it up. The oval fit perfectly in my palm, and something shifted in me. I realized I’d been lying to myself, lying to those closest to me, just to get through each day.
Read MoreMy dad was a great storyteller. Even though he was a little shy with strangers, he loved to spin a good yarn from time to time with his family. His best tales were stories about Chicago. But my favorite story was how he came into his chili recipe.
Read MoreI noticed that even though my cookbook shelf was full, it was dominated by white authors and western-European cuisine. As someone who embraces new food, new experiences, I was embarrassed by the glaring omissions of the culinary foundations of American cooking on the shelf. Time for more change.
Read MoreI 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 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 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 MoreMy poofy hair was what I had to deal with and although my brother tortured me by calling me Hair Bear for years, I managed to get through that time with as much awkward grace as I could. And a whole lot of mousse.
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