I am a young(ish). working professional. mom. This blog is all about that.

And cupcakes.

It’s not the village, it’s the villagers.

It’s not the village, it’s the villagers.

Our morning routine used to start at 5:45am, not by my choice by rather the choice of the voice wafting from the crib. Husband was either rushing to leave the house or had already left. I was allowed about 30 seconds in the bathroom before the wafting voice reached unacceptable decibels for that early in the morning. I’d revel in the 10 seconds of our morning greetings and hugs, before needing to supply the requisite banana and Cheerios. With child plopped, in front of TV with breakfast, I’d begin the morning “get ready routine”. Up the stairs, down the stairs. And with some magic tossed in, we’d both be clothed, in the car, by 7:20am.

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Yes, Paris.  And Yes, Parents.

Yes, Paris. And Yes, Parents.

The mantra of my life with a daughter is “try”. In the early days, it was “try” to shower. “Try” the baby carrier. “Try” to go to the store. As she’s aged, the “try”s have gotten a bit more interesting. “Try” to go to Mexico. “Try” to have her walk holding your hand. The”try”s are not linear pursuit – having one work on one day does not mean it will work again on the next day, or any other day ever again. “Try” to go to the store fails regularly.

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Silencing myself:  the pursuit of a Ph.D.

Silencing myself: the pursuit of a Ph.D.

In 2007, I went on a month-long Rotary Fellowship to Saitama, Japan. It was an opportunity to blend my previous experience of Japan with my new found love of philanthropy. My focus during that month was on how philanthropy appears in Japanese society. It was the days of the export of “strategic philanthropy” from the US and the chatter of “Asia not having traditions of philanthropy”, and I was curious enough to want to dig deeper.

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I can breathe.

I can breathe.

Every morning, I watch the water in the Thames River as my daughter and I take our three-minute ferry ride from Rotherhithe to Canary Wharf. As we get closer to the Wharf side, I can start to see the tall buildings of London in the background – the Shard, the Gherkin, St. Pauls. My eyes come back to the shoreline and I look upon the brick buildings of the Docklands. Every morning, I think “ahhhh”.

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I look younger than I am.
Or at least I use to.

Working Professional.

She works hard for the money.
So hard for it honey.


Mommy, where are you?
Mommy, get up.
Mommy coffee's ready.

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About Me

For many years I conceived of what this blog would be like & all the very wise & profound things I would say. I can't remember any of those things now, so I write about the absurdness of most things. I am a young(ish). working professional. mom. This blog is all about that. And cupcakes.


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503477519_c7d79d8d52_oI don’t always post on a set schedule. Following the Ordering Cupcakes feedor subscribing here, to have the latest posts delivered by email, will ensure you don’t miss any tasty morsels.


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