There are two creatures that live in this house who possess an element of magic. Their luminous energies are brighter than the sun. Their essence belongs somewhere in the land of unicorns and griffins, not in the human world. They are much too fascinating to be mere mortals.

One comes from distant lands. She is a sorcerer, a wanderer, an enchanted being akin to a chameleon who transforms herself as quickly as a light flickers. Just as quickly, new worlds appear and new languages are created in her presence. She is a warrior, constantly battling for the good of mankind. She is inquisitive, tenacious, and passionate. Her zeal in all the endeavors which she creates for herself could fuel the world.

He is light. He holds in his hands an unadulterated spirit. He is but a wee explorer in our scope, but his spirit says that he has existed for infinitely longer than we realize, for when he sees photographs of his ancestors, there is a clear familiarity in his eyes. He carries a mystical power to erase all your woes with a single all-encompassing embrace. His embrace is the strongest, most accurate portrayal of the boundless love and kindness which live in his heart.

They have but one vulnerability; they are growing amongst us humans. In order for their enchanted magic to survive as long as possible, their imaginations must not be stifled. They must not be tarnished by the complexities of the pedestrian human world. Their spirits should not be dimmed by accounts of modern calamities. These magical creatures must not be overwhelmed by the excess of superfluous material objects which has come to be a human habit. They simply need less of our world to preserve more of theirs. And their world is not material.

News flash. There is a shortage of eggs. You should be eating more eggs. You’re eating too much meat. Don’t switch to soy though, or you will die. The drought situation in California is worsening. No climate change deal has been signed. Your deodorant is killing you. Oh, you use the natural kind? That’s nice, but it will kill you anyway – probably immediately. Another black person was unjustifiably killed by a cop. You shouldn’t use fluoride. Make sure you use fluoride or your teeth will decay. Your tooth decay will shorten your life, so use fluoride or you will die. But if you use fluoride, you will also die. A four-year-old Florida boy is having a forced circumcision. You’re teaching your child to read too soon. Haven’t you taught your child to read yet? S/he child will be behind forever and will not be able to properly perform on all the tests that are required in school. You’re either consuming too little or too much turmeric. There are a bunch of malnourished Shih Tzus in New York. The Middle East is still in perpetual turmoil. Ukraine is still a war zone. A boat of migrants has capsized in the Mediterranean. 450 troops are being sent back to Iraq. And at the end of this list, also add every tidbit of information that you have acquired on social media in the last day.

Continue…

Every time I see someone publish an account of their life as a co-sleeping family, the comment threads are plastered with one concern. Over and over and over again. Sex. People are very concerned about sex and where it’s happening. So, let me just assure you from the beginning, that as a co-sleeping family, all the sex that is being had by the exhausted parents of young children is not in the bedroom. Okay? Now you can focus.

When you picture a family bedroom which might include children that are older than about 2, what is your vision? Are you picturing a commune of some kind? Or maybe Charlie’s poverty-stricken family from Willy Wonka all huddled up in bed together? (That Wonka bed looks really cozy to me, by the way, but that’s beside the point). Those are really the most popular options, right? The family is probably either completely impoverished or living in a commune somewhere. But here’s another option: some of us just like co-sleeping.

Continue…

I sat in a conference room in the Philosophy building of my university with four esteemed professors who were all there to hear me present an oral dissertation which would be the conclusion of my bachelor’s degree. They could finally check my name off their obligatory thesis advisory committee lists. I was one week shy of nine months pregnant, more than an hour away from home, and covered in that attractive panic-induced splotch pattern that one can only understand if s/he is the proud recipient of this magical genetic trait. To say that I was nervous would be a gross understatement.

After presenting my thesis and nervously answering numerous questions from the professors gathered, my committee took out their pens and inked their names on my fancy thesis paper copies (if you haven’t had the chance to follow rigorous instructions as to exactly how many cotton fibers must be inlaid in the expensive paper that you then spend tens of hours printing, compiling, and desperately attempting not to smudge, you’re missing out). It was over. I did it. I was done with my degree. I sat at the conference table, which could barely contain myself and my baby, feeling very much relieved. Not only was I finished with this defence process that I had been dreading since the day I decided to embark on this thesis mission, but also, my baby was kind enough not to make her appearance during my defense.

Continue…