I tell stories about growing up a farm kid in Iowa, being a loyal Arkansas transplant, single parenting, and parenting a teenage boy in all its glory and horrors. I chose “A Growing Season” as a book title several years ago as a metaphor for all the changes happening in my life, that happen in everyone’s life really, and its relationship to the growing seasons of the farm that I used to be so in tune with as a child.
For my son, my family, my friends, and my generation I would like to create a better narrative and archive of our shared history than what I’ve done so far. My poor child. If he were to judge my parenting by his baby book or the chaotic state of all of our pictures, he might decide I wasn’t much of a mother. He knows better, I hope, but I’d like to create a little proof that I work hard at being a mom, sister, daughter, friend, teacher, and professional.