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‘Kiddos’ Category

  1. Cutting the Curl: How I Let My Baby Grow Up in One Fell Swoop


    August 11, 2014 by kristin

    It started with Fancy Nancy. My 4-year-old daughter Ruby discovered her at the local public library, where we went for …
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  2. Danny and the Wave of Nostalgia

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    June 4, 2013 by kristin

    At the doctor’s office yesterday, I found a dog-eared copy of Syd Hoff’s 1958 classic Danny and the Dinosaur in …
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  3. Homecoming

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    May 20, 2013 by kristin

    Yesterday was Homecoming at my grandparents’ church. For those unfamiliar with this Southern tradition, it’s when you go back to …
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  4. Book Brain

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    April 17, 2013 by kristin

    I’m not known as a punctual person, but one area I do manage to do things on time is paying bills. That is, until recently. I completely forgot my car payment for two months in a row, until they sent me a “Hey, remember us? And here’s a late fee for ya” notice.

    I blame this on two things: baby brain (the condition in which a mother is so sleep-deprived and hormone-addled that she forgets her own age and her cousin’s last name) combined with a special dose of book brain (the condition in which a writer is so obsessed with her book that half her brain is living in 1864).

  5. The Original and the Interloper

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    March 26, 2013 by kristin

    My older daughter’s pre-school is on Spring Break this week, because almost-3-year-olds need a rest from all that strenuous gluing of bits of paper to other paper.

    What this means for me is less time for writing, more time for taking my girl to the library and the children’s museum and the Mediterranean restaurant, and every bathroom therein.

    While we were out today, we ran into a friend of mine, who asked, “Where’s the interloper?” It struck me as such an apt description of the new baby, from my older daughter’s point of view.

  6. Forty Minutes at a Time


    March 6, 2013 by kristin

    I wrote the bulk of my historical fiction novel in 40-minute chunks the summer my first baby turned one. Never a fan of sleeping, she went her entire first eighteen months of life napping exactly 40 minutes a day. The moment I heard the deep sigh that signaled she was truly asleep, I’d tiptoe-run from the room, close our creaky old-house door carefully behind me, and race to the keyboard.

    Even two rooms away and with a white noise machine humming in her room, she might wake up if I sneezed or made a phone call or typed too loudly. So I worked in tense, waiting silence, typing lightly but swiftly. When the clock crept toward 35 minutes, I’d type faster, because I knew what would happen when my 40 minutes of peace were up.

About Kristin

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Historical fiction writer and reader. Procrastinator. Sewist. Slytherin. Fan of red lipstick, rock 'n' roll, and everything vintage.

Current Work-in-Progress

The Boy in the Red Dress

When her drag queen best friend is accused of murdering a socialite, a Jazz Age Veronica Mars searches for the real killer in the seedy underbelly and glittering upper crust of 1931 New Orleans.


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