Monthly Review: September 2026

I was told you’d feel like butterflies

or bubbles,

not like what you are:

a tiny person with my pointy elbows scrunched up in my pelvis,

stretching,

somersaulting

when it suits you,

pressing little limbs into my side as though

to fix their shape

forever in my skin

as though I might forget you once lived here.

As if I could forget the life I grew

from tadpole into this:

a brain, a spine, a set of lungs as yet unneeded,

hair (I hope),

ten toes, ten fingers, and a pumping heart

that beats in time with mine—

my little love,

whose face I have not seen

yet I will know already

when at last

we meet.

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Here's what I read, cooked, and created in the month of September.

What I Read

• The Unselected Journals of Emma M. Lion, Volume 5, Beth Brower (★★★★★)

• The Unselected Journals of Emma M. Lion, Volume 6, Beth Brower (★★★★★)

• The Unselected Journals of Emma M. Lion, Volume 7, Beth Brower (★★★★★)

• The Unselected Journals of Emma M. Lion, Volume 8, Beth Brower (★★★★)

• The Gales of December: The Untold Story of the Edmund Fitzgerald, John U. Bacon (★★★★)

  
  

If you want to hear the rationale behind my rating, head to my Goodreads for full reviews.

What I Cooked

• Ham and Broccoli Frittata

  • Difficulty: ★★

  • Flavor: ★★★

  • Keeper: No

This was not a well-written recipe, and I ended up cooking it for significantly longer and at a substantially higher temperature than called for. It turned out fine, but I wasn't exactly jazzed about eating the leftovers.

• Double Chocolate Pumpkin Muffins

  • Difficulty: ★★

  • Flavor: ★★★★★

  • Keeper: Yes

The fall baking urge has hit as though catapulted out of a pumpkin launcher, and as I am managing gestational diabetes, my one real pregnancy complication so far, I am also negotiating with this baby’s persistent sweet tooth. A lower sugar option, this recipe really did hit the spot without getting me into trouble with my nutritionist, and I am already scheming to make them again.

• Healthy Apple Muffins

  • Difficulty: ★★

  • Flavor: ★★★★★

  • Keeper: Yes

See above description. I don't know whether I've ever had such a good whole-wheat muffin. A little natural peanut butter on top is perfection.

• Buffalo Chicken Bowl

  • Difficulty: ★★

  • Flavor: ★★★★

  • Keeper: Yes

I made this with farro because that’s what I had, but I think quinoa would be better. I roasted the chicken because I have not become an air fryer girl yet, and it was quite tasty.

• Cranberry Jalapeno Chicken Salad

  • Difficulty: ★

  • Flavor: ★★★★★

  • Keeper: Yes

I’m pretty sure Chicken Salad Chick (which I have only been to once but loved) has a version of this. So very easy. So very tasty.

• Pumpkin Spice Chai Latte

  • Difficulty: ★

  • Flavor: ★★★★★

  • Keeper: Yes

I am trying my hardest to embrace #ChristianGirlAutumn, a prospect made easier by the fact that it actually is starting to feel like fall outside and not like a sweaty second wind of summer. This drink definitely helped put me into the spirit of things.

What I Created

• Well . . . not much (beyond, you know, the human life in my uterus)

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May your days be filled with beauty, and may your heart be filled with the willingness to see and give thanks for it.

Monthly Review: August 2026

There was not going to be a party (who would I invite?). There was not going to be a trip (where would we go?). There was not going to be a big gift (what did I even want?). There was not going to be a fancy date night (although there may yet be, but, between my husband’s work schedule and my in-service, at what point in August could we possibly make it happen?). There would simply be a birthday, my 30th, a number I had finally come to accept. How then to celebrate?

Naturally, I started by making a list. Things I had often thought “Oh, it would be so nice to [fill in the blank].” Things that would be nice to cook. Things that weren’t chores, per se, but should be done. Things I wanted to do before summer ended. 30 ways to celebrate turning 30. Thus the month became a sort of quest: how many could I check off before August ended?

As it turned out, quite a few. I checked off another recipe from The Newlywed Cookbook: the Beautiful Bowl of Ricotta, savory edition, along with a snack plate featuring homemade focaccia, ripe nectarines, olives, balsamic drizzle, and prosciutto, pregnancy restrictions not forgotten so much as deliberately ignored. I brought my friend a meal after the arrival of her new baby, and we chatted while the baby slept, quite contentedly, on my chest. I took the first Emma M. Lion book to the coffee shop I walk past nearly every day and read until it and my iced chai latte were both finished. I tracked down the weekly schedule for the Thai food truck that frequently parks downtown so I could take myself out to dinner one night when my husband had a work commitment. The pork noodle bowl was generous enough for two meals. I stopped by my childhood favorite ice cream parlor for an ice cream cone. I never knew dirt cake ice cream was so delicious. I took in a sunset and some birdwatching with my husband. I put on my ugly new maternity swimsuit and floated the lazy river at the Kalahari after my professional development sessions.

Some items on my list proved to be out of my hands. Some no longer sounded appealing by the time I reached the tired end of the month. This was not, I had to tell myself, a checklist; it was a menu. I did not have to order anything that did not sound appealing. Some of the experiences were also expenses, but some—the majority, in fact—were free. Each was a reminder that the life I have is worth celebrating, even in the smallest of ways.

The morning of my birthday, I put on the new dress I had bought for the occasion and headed down to the farmer’s market to complete item 1 (go to the farmer’s market) and item 3 (make BLTs). As I approached the small cluster of tents I saw beneath one canopy a bucket of gladiolus stems (Item 18: buy a bouquet of gladiolus). The farmer and I chatted about babies while he wrapped three stems: two red, one white. I cradled them in my arm like a pageant queen all the way back to my car, beaming. Today is my birthday, I wanted to tell everyone. Aren’t there so many beautiful things in the world to enjoy?

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Here's what I read, cooked, and created in the month of August.

What I Read

• The Unselected Journals of Emma M. Lion, Volume 1, Beth Brower (★★★★★)

• The Unselected Journals of Emma M. Lion, Volume 2, Beth Brower (★★★★)

• The Unselected Journals of Emma M. Lion, Volume 3, Beth Brower (★★★★★)

• The Unselected Journals of Emma M. Lion, Volume 4, Beth Brower (★★★★★)

• The Midnight Train, Matt Haig (★★★★)

• Land, Maggie O'Farrell (★★★★)

• We're Pregnant: The First-Time Dad's Pregnancy Handbook, Adrian Kulp (★★★)

• The Story She Left Behind, Patti Callahan Henry (★★)

  
  

If you want to hear the rationale behind my rating, head to my Goodreads for full reviews.

What I Cooked

• Crockpot Chicken Parmesan

  • Difficulty: ★★

  • Flavor: ★★★★

  • Keeper: Yes

I wouldn’t say I have a go-to chicken parmesan recipe, mostly because it’s fiddly to do it right. This was reasonably tasty and extremely easy, so it definitely scratched the itch. Just use half of the recommended Italian seasoning.

• French Onion Smash Tacos

  • Difficulty: ★★

  • Flavor: ★★★★

  • Keeper: Yes

Somehow I have made it deep into 2026 without trying the smash taco trend, but I thought these would be a tasty birthday dinner, so I gave them a try. I doubled the recipe and used 2 packets of onion soup mix, which made the meat overly salty. Even with 1 pound of ground beef, I think the single packet would have been sufficient. I also added a little chive sour cream with Worcestershire sauce. Worth trying a smash taco at least once, I would say.

• Chocolate Peanut Butter Oatmeal Bars

  • Difficulty: ★★★

  • Flavor: ★★★

  • Keeper: In part

At some point Tieghan is going to have to remember the recipes she has already made and stop perpetually reinventing them. In her first cookbook, she has these chocolate chip oatmeal cookies (which can be made in bar form) that are unbelievably delicious. Everywhere I bring them, I make friends. The oatmeal bar base in this recipe, unfortunately, is not the same as this one. Even though I did not use almond flour, the bars were still insanely dry and barely sweet at all. But, with that being said, the peanut butter and chocolate layers were incredible. I definitely want to combine those parts of the recipe with the original oatmeal bar base from the cookbook just to see how it works together.

What I Created

• Original essay "On Turning 30"

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May your days be filled with beauty, and may your heart be filled with the willingness to see and give thanks for it.

On Turning 30

A bucket list seemed both too macabre and too mainstream; I made a “30 Things to Do Before I’m 30” list instead. I was fourteen, caught up in the quirky girl zeitgeist of 2011, scribbling my dreams in convoluted columns of black ink. Though I have not set eye on that list in years, I know I have in so many ways failed that idealistic and idiotic version of myself. I did not marathon all 3 extended editions of Lord of the Rings. I did not publish a novel or even complete one. While I did get married, I did not have a baby, although my birthday marks 26 weeks of pregnancy with my first (I’m not sure whether she would have counted that). I did not go to London or to a live performance on Broadway to see any of the shows whose songs I had memorized by virtue of my obsessive listening (and still, I’m afraid, know by heart). I did not care to haul that notebook out of its box in the basement and revisit the other unchecked items on the list, many of which stopped mattering to me long ago, some of which will have to become bucket list items. I am not sure I need any more reminders of the things I should have done by now.

I did not have a formal five-year plan, but when my twenties began I had a general idea of what I would be doing and the timeline for it to unfold. Getting married, launching my career, pursuing a master’s degree, purchasing a home, growing our family—these were the milestones of independent adulthood, and I intended to reach each one in a timely and straightforward process. And indeed, I checked off some of those items right on schedule (some even a little earlier than anticipated) but none in quite the same way I had imagined. Like the cheeky carousel posts I saw on Instagram, there were my expectations, and then there was reality. They did not match. Some of those incongruences were far superior to my imaginings. Most, to my point of view, were worse. I did not get the perfect-on-paper teaching positions I applied for (one at the school where I student taught, one at the school where my husband started and ended his own teaching career). I did not enroll in the great books grad program I dreamed about. I did not move away from small-town Wisconsin, just to a different small town. And (as you know if you read my essay “For This Child I Have Prayed”) I did not get pregnant. It became increasingly clear that realizing my expectations did not solely depend on my own merit or will and that some things would happen to me that I would never have anticipated or desired. The future was unpredictable, I knew, but by my late twenties I realized it was completely unknown and largely uncontrollable. The path ahead seemed to me shrouded in darkness. What was going to happen to me? What was I going to do when it did?

I eventually recognized what I was thinking and how mentally destructive it was for me—if you read my essay “On Turning 28,” you’ll see how I was processing it at the time. I realized I couldn’t live like this, not just because it was deeply depressing but also because it defied the theology I purportedly believed. As I wrote at the time, “Surely goodness. Surely mercy. It is not death and disaster that follow me as a child of God, but God's grace and kindness. Though in this life we suffer as we anticipate the glories of the life to come, that does not mean that nothing good awaits us between now and then.” I knew it; I just needed to apply it, particularly to my grief surrounding the childlessness that for all I knew would be the permanent state of our family. And I have spent the next two years endeavoring to do exactly that: to embrace God’s goodness in my life in the forms it has taken rather than resenting the gifts He had not granted.

Slowly, I have been learning the difference between expectations and expectancy, as beautifully articulated by Ruth Chou Simons in her Advent devotional Emmanuel.

“Expectations leave us weary and discontent, believing we deserve more or better. They always leave us unfulfilled and doubtful about whether God is for our good. But expectancy is anticipation mingled with joy. It’s believing God is who He says He is while waiting patiently for His good to be revealed, however He chooses to reveal it. . . . Expectancy sets our sights on God’s promises rather than the empty pursuit of all that cannot truly satisfy . . . When we turn from expectations to being expectant, we will never be disappointed because God never disappoints.”

Once my own arbitrary timeline fell apart (I was not pregnant by December and therefore would not have a baby by 30), it became strangely easier to release my expectations and adopt a posture of expectancy—not entitlement, discouragement, or anxiety, but patient trust that God is not absent, not passive, but present and working in my life in whatever ways He saw fit. I still didn’t know what the future would be. Maybe I would have biological children; maybe I wouldn’t. If I didn’t enjoy the gift of motherhood, there would be what Karen Swallow Prior calls “other gifts to open.” I didn’t and couldn’t know how God would work in my life, but I could expect that He would indeed work.

Here at the end of my twenties and now quite literally expectant, I can look back on this last decade with at least an idea of what God may have been doing in my difficulties and disappointments. I can see the truths I internalized and the ways they shaped me. I can trace the narrative arc of my story and see my character developing. And I can expect that the future, though unknown to me, lies open before God, who knows the end from the beginning and exactly the middle that ought to connect the two. I do not need to fear the ways I might suffer; I know any pain I feel will be tempered with joy.

Now I am thirty, entering the middle third of a lifespan with this new decade. How strange that the year I thought everything would feel like it was ending is, in reality, the year it all begins anew.