Finding True Happiness, in a Laundry Bucket in Thailand

Are you missing that vital connection to nature?

Published in The Ascent on Medium.

Khao Sok National Park Photo by Marcin Kaliński on Unsplash

I Cheated on Veganism, But We Never Broke Up

That time I was literally stranded on a desert island

Published in The Ascent on Medium.

This is a hard one to share. I'm afraid omnivores will be like, "Um, big deal," and vegans will be like, "I can't believe I trusted you." I hope the article itself (not just the headline) redeems me with all parties.

Photo by Food Photographer | Jennifer Pallian on Unsplash

The Welcome Letter of an Inflight Magazine Made Me Cry

Are you going to cry too?
published in P.S. I Love You on Medium.

Plane flying through sunset. Photo by Leio McLaren (@leiomclaren) on Unsplash

Share that Holiday Spirit All Year Long

And forget all that stranger danger business!
published on Medium

“Let’s Adore and Endure Each Other” art in Shoreditch, London — Photo by Toa Heftiba on Unsplash

Veganism Makes Parenting Easier Part 2 - On Medium

I just got home from 3 days in Larrabee State Park near Bellingham, WA. My kid and I made the drive for the Seattle Vegan Families Group’s annual camping trip. The hazardous smoke cleared just in time, and we donned our rain gear and celebrated at a group campsite with 10 or so other vegan families.

It was a seriously awesome time: epic views, vegan s’mores, kids and dogs (and grownups) running wild in a car-less wonderland.

What surprised me though, was that my kid, being her usual awesome self, seemed to be the worst at sharing and the quickest to fuss. It’s not that she was on hard mode, but that we were surrounded by the sweetest, most generous group of kids we’ve ever had to pleasure to be around.

Read the rest on Medium! Remember, you can applaud up to 50 times!

Tzivia, sleeping through train noise, in our tent at the Vegan Families Camping Trip

Goodbye to Babywearing?

It was a nice run, but I think I may have worn Tzivia for the last time.

The strange thing about deciding not to have any more kids is all the skills that I'll never use again. Like baby-wearing.

The ease with which I could hoist her on my back, the muscle memory.

The applause I would get from strangers when I'd do it in public.

The last time I wore her was the airport in February, coming home from Florida. I've always worn her in the airport, but now she mostly walks. Now the wearing is more so they don't try to put her in the radiation machine or (my big fear) try to pat her down whether she wants it or not. When you wear a kid through security, you just walk through the metal detector and then they swab your hands. We don't have any trips planned, and by the time we do, she'll be even bigger. Too big to wear?








 I loved wearing her. I loved being together like that, bringing her up to see the world from my height. I loved when she'd fall asleep on me and we'd put the hood up. I loved staying out all day in Italy, her napping on me as we'd explore museums in Rome. Climbing those narrow stairs to the top of St. Peter's Basilica with her on my back, huffing and puffing and no room to stop; then the feeling of pride; I grew her in my body then carried her to (what felt like) the top of the world.

 

Now, instead, 

she wears her own 

"babies" to the 

Farmers' Market, 

in the tiny rainbow

Lenny Lamb

toy carrier 

that looks 

just like mine.

 

Maybe we'll have 

one 

more 

hike 

in us?

Maybe

not.

My baby's 

growing 

up.

 

And I would be remiss if I did not mention that her wonderful Dada wore her almost as much as me: