The Tiara and the Baptism Bonnet

When I was growing up I had a science teacher whose true calling was outdoor education; he was a good teacher, of course, but he was a beautiful outdoor educator.  He led every outdoor education trip I took in Middle School, one per year for four years.  None of these were particularly arduous (though we felt like they were at the time, because, ugh, Middle School girls), and it's safe to say that I didn't exactly emerge an outdoorswoman (ahem, in these shoes?).  Still, if I had to drill down to one takeaway from those journeys, it is that he taught me how to experience solitude in a brand new ... [READ MORE]

I Wish I Knew the Answer

I try to keep politics out of Less on the Floor.  Because this is a blog about family and family is universal. Except guns.  I feel super super really super deeply strongly about guns.  This morning, watching the news at the gym, I had a vague inclination to throw a weight through the television, because I literally cannot, for one more minute, listen to one more person lament how "tragic" and "all-too-familiar" these events are. WHY ARE WE NOT DOING SOMETHING ABOUT THIS? I mean, WHY? In my humble opinion, this is so completely NOT a debate about the 2nd Amendment.  If you want to ... [READ MORE]

The Compromise

A young (and surprisingly fresh-looking, given that it's dawn in this photo) me, feeding LittleMan his first rice cereal on the floor of my parents' house, February 2009 I had a conversation with someone last week that got me thinking about regret. Regret is such an ugly word: one that connotes shame and sadness and a desire to move backwards in the hopes of rewriting history.  It is such a strange word to associate in any way with the following of love and the bearing of children...and yet, in fathoming the life not lived, the path not chosen, it lurks somewhere on the fringes. ... [READ MORE]

Safe House

It had been a long afternoon, back in early July. Time-outs.  Sass.  Tongue-sticking-out attitude.  One of those afternoons where you hear yourself getting more and more shrill as you try to stem the tide of Bad Behavior that seems -- mystifyingly -- to be sweeping your little family away. Finally, we broke.  After a long dinner of stand-offs, LittleMan threw his napkin in my face and clambered out of his seat.  I grabbed his arm. "That burger was disgusting," he muttered, and attempted to turn away.  I held fast. "What is going on?  What is this?"  I snapped.  I used the napkin to ... [READ MORE]

The Blog

I've taken some heat lately for neglecting Less on the Floor, which I promised myself (and, perhaps, others) I wouldn't do.  I let an entire month go by with nothing at all, a first for this blog.  Which is why I'm going to go ahead and hack this one post out: to have something on the board.  Something to prove that I haven't given up on the thing that brought me to where I am today.  It might be crap but it's a return, which is something. After all, this blog changed my life. My kids changed my life, of course.  My kids took everything I knew to be true about myself and the world and ... [READ MORE]

Nature Nurture Babygirl

I am going to oversimplify here, but for the sake of argument I will state that LittleMan’s two great wishes in life are 1) more Legos, and 2) to be left alone, to his own devices, to build and play in his magical, mashed-up, imaginary world in peace (but with a comforting force close by).  If he needs something — help finding a missing brick, a snuggle, a sip of bubbly water — he will ask for it.  In this way, LittleMan and I can sit at home together on a Monday afternoon for hours with nary a word uttered between us, happy to coexist in the quiet and go about our private enterprises.  This ... [READ MORE]

Where are you going, where have you been

Forgive me if I'm repeating myself but if you are just joining us here at Less on the Floor, a few words about me.  I am a mother to two: my elementary-aged son and preschool-aged daughter.  Together with my husband, we live in the heart of a major US city, in a two-bedroom apartment on the 15th floor which boasts sweeping views, a teeny-tiny floor plan, strategic bunk-beds, and a dining room table currently strewn with 4,000 Legos, my laptop, some stray salt and pepper, and (don’t ask) the belt from a bathrobe, which is tying several of the chairs together.  This is what passes for a fort on ... [READ MORE]