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Dalai Mama Dishes

by Catherine Newman

Catherine Newman cooks for the family

Dalai Mama Dishes

Catherine Newman cooks for the family

Pants and Undies that Fall Down Every Five Minutes, Part II

Posted October 02, 2008
It's not just that, halfway out the door to my first yoga class, I run back inside to pee, and end up spotting a little blemish on my chin, and by spotting I mean, of course, picking and squeezing, until my whole face is swollen and blotchy, like I have the mumps crossed with the measles. And it's not just that I'm sweating too much to wear my glasses but have become so nearsighted that I can only alternate between… Read More

Pants and Undies that Fall Down Every Five Minutes

Posted September 22, 2008
Sometimes, I see, in my peripheral vision, the mother I am trying to be. There she is! It's a Sunday morning, and she has gotten up early, scrubbed clean her face and teeth, swept back her shining hair, and crept downstairs in a flowered kimono to make breakfast for her family. The aroma of baking raspberry-buttermilk scones will rise seductively up to her husband and children, beckon them down to the sunny table set with juice glasses and a pitcher… Read More

Growing Up

Posted September 16, 2008
In the deep of night, I am inclined towards heartbreak. I lie awake with the muscle in my chest beating like a metronome, ticking away the rhythm of life's passing, while outside the cicadas answer with their own clicking, also like a metronome, like a bike shifting gears, like a person in Greek mythology doomed to clip their toenails forever. I regret every time I've spoken sharply to the children, every time I've answered curiosity with distractedness, met need with… Read More
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Great Things

Posted September 09, 2008
"Would you rather be able to fly or be invisible?" Ben asks millions of questions like this, exactly the way I did at his age -- always with some urgency, as if the choice at issue may really come to pass. As if maybe one day you'll die, and there will be a heavenly questionnaire all filled out already: "Okey doke, it says here you wanted to be deaf instead of blind and to live in a candy store with a… Read More
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Thunderstorms

Posted September 05, 2008

In Praise of Boredom the column I'd been planning to write today - now makes about as much sense to me as In Praise of Heat Rash. In Praise of the Mysterious Pee Smell That Cannot Be Scrubbed from the Bathroom. In Praise of PMS.

But earlier, making my various happy notes about my kids and their heroic ability to entertain themselves all summer long, I'd been thinking of Birdy hunched for doting hours on end over her homemade flower fairies,… Read More
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Babies

Posted August 26, 2008

I'm cozied up to Birdy in her little bed while the cool night air washes over us. Me, I'm dozing on and off, my head heavy and drooling on her pillow, but Birdy's too excited to sleep. "You know what was so tiny on those babies?" "What, honey?" "This. Mama, look: this." She's pointing to the place between her nose and lips. "That spot between their nose and lips," I say, and she says, "Yeah - that little, like, ditch."

Calling… Read More
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About Catherine Newman

Catherine Newman is the author of the memoir, Waiting for Birdy: A Year of Frantic Tedium, Neurotic Angst, and the Wild Magic of Growing a Family, available online and in bookstores nationwide.

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