The Sting of Being the Uninvited
The Sting of Being the Uninvited | lizpetrone.com

My oldest daughter, 11 now, was waiting for me when I walked in the door from work. Before I had set my bag down, she was sobbing, her face crumpled under the stress of crying out whatever she had been holding in. “What’s wrong?” I asked, a ticker tape of terrible images flashing through my […]

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I Drew a Heart on My Boy’s Hand
I Drew a Heart On His Hand | lizpetrone.com

The anxiety has been strong with the littlest lately. I don’t know why. Maybe it’s the way the seasons shift, a little at a time so slowly until it’s not slow at all anymore and it’s become cold so fast that you swear you inhaled the warm air of early fall and you exhaled in […]

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A Better Mother Than Me
Better Mother Than Me | lizpetrone.com

“I don’t want to go to bed! A good Mommy would let me have a cheese stick!” Gabby yells at me for what is maybe the 14th time in the last five minutes. Out of answers and the will to live, I let my head cock to the side and consider this for a second. […]

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A Letter to My Daughter

Dear Maria: Oh (wo)man are you coming of age in an interesting time. Never have we as women been able to accomplish more. You and me together watched a woman run for president (and win) and I saw on your face for the first time that those words I tell you, all those you can […]

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I Am Both

I am both. I’m both “I NEED TO GET OUT OF HERE RIGHT THIS SECOND” and “I hope you don’t expect me to put that bra back on and go anywhere.” I am at once “why do my friends never invite me places anymore?” and “oh great, how am I going to get out of […]

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We Sure Do Have Our Hands Full
We Sure Do Have Our Hands Full | lizpetrone.com

Maybe it’s the slightly crazed and manic expression I wear on my face when I go out with all four children in public, or maybe it’s the way my shoulders droop towards the ground with exhaustion like an elderly but equally disheveled and flat chested Captain Caveman, but people seem to always stop when they […]

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