Wednesday, April 14, 2010

Out of the mouths of babes

My daughter Violet was looking at some portraits of me. My friend Nina Rich took them eight years ago for my editor's page at ym. At the time, Violet was gestating in my uterus. I always hate being photographed, but especially when I have morning sickness. I had had my hair and makeup done, and Nina is a good photographer, so they turned out pretty well. V was fascinated by the box of contact sheets. "Mommy," she said. "You look so pretty here. It doesn't even look like you!" Every time I think of that, I just laugh and laugh.

Here's another story, not as funny. The subject of writers had come up. "Daddy's a writer," said Violet. "Yes, and so is Mommy," I reminded her. Silence, and a skeptical look. Had she seen me writing? No. She had seen me doing laundry and making dinner and sweeping the floor. "You used to be a writer," she said, and went back to reading her Ramona book. She's right. I used to be a writer.


  1. Once a writer, always a writer.

  2. Ha ha ha! I think that that last one is funny.

    When my sister and I were little, my mom "interviewed" us on a cassette tape. Years later my sister and I were listening to it: My mom asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up and I said "A mommy." She asked, "Don't you want a job?" I answered, "YOU don't have a job." My sister was like "Ooh, you dissed Mom..."

  3. Pfft. Kids don't know about the writerly process ;)

  4. Well, you're writing now aren't you? so you were just "on a break" but i dont think you have it in you to be not a writer. obviously i know you really, really well from your blog.

    also, i have something for your writerly self! can you e-mail me at anna @

  5. Ouch. Of course in my mind my mom is simply my mom too. The fact that she's a PhD hardly enters into it. And I'm sure it's the same with my kids.