ImageSure, I have adorable pictures of my two girls looking perfectly sweet together, posed for the camera, smiling, happy, commercial, yada yada. But that’s not really what our life is like here on the Upper West Side. It’s a little more like this impromptu photo of my 4 month old staring blankly at my iPhone while I stick her feet in front of her face.

Finishing my meditation this morning, I felt compelled to be a better writer, a more inspired artist, a more optimistic creator, an open mind to the possibilities of the thoughts that come my way today and how they could be transposed into a fantastic writing career that is useful and helpful to others.

And then I peeled an orange for my almost-three year old and breastfed my 4 month old. I suspect in a few minutes, I’ll be changing one, if not two, diapers. Then the wet, uneaten orange on the floor will need to be cleaned up. Even as I write these very words, my older daughter is fake crying next to me about how she can’t have any of her candy today, since she didn’t listen to Daddy last night when he told her to do something. Needless to say, my beautiful Dalai lama-esque, Buddha-like, meditative and inspired writer within me has been replaced by a woman who smells like sour breast milk and has 50 pounds of children currently sitting on her lap while one squeaks a rubber toy for the other one’s amusement.

But I’ve heard that JK Rowling was a financially-struggling single mother when she wrote Harry Potter. So who am I to complain?


Good looking broad, ain’t she? Brains and beauty together at last. (You too, Margaret Thatcher)

Off to the shower and then to the Whole Foods dining area to work for two hours while my husband watches the kids. My renewed inspiration will return… probably after another cup of caffeine.