We Go Together Like...

I've been lucky enough to write a bit for Mamalode magazine out of Montana for a few years now and have not only become friends with the editor and staff, but have been introduced to some amazing writers along the way. Mamalode is a magazine. A website. A movement. Our readers and writers are moms—with a smattering of dads, kids, grandparents, aunts, uncles and friends. They become Mamaloders because we give them something nobody else does—the truth and each other.

The latest print issue just came out and I wrote a little piece about some of my favorite things, pairings that are meaningful to me, collaborations that are both mundane and extraordinary in our life together.

Your soft chubby thighs wrapped around my thick right hip

Red wine in a mason jar stashed in my purse at the movies

His naked body in our messy bed

Peanut butter chips in chocolate oatmeal bars in my dirty oven with one broken burner

My uterus with a baby kicking around in it

Doing the dishes with storytelling podcasts

Dr. Pepper Lip Smackers in the pockets of all my comfy jeans

Her fingers and our 1913 upright piano

My ass in those leopard print panties from Lane Bryant in the mall

Cold Junior Mints sprinkled on a bucket of buttery popcorn

Her lithe little body and cartwheels and round offs

Our garden and chicken poop

A cigarette with an old friend

Bare shoulders and sun

Your hand on my thigh

A tent and the stars

Fingers and dirt

Kisses and lips.