Zibby Owens is a freelance writer and mother of four in NYC. Her work has been featured in Marie Claire, Redbook, SELF, Shape, Modern Bride and other magazines. She has written online for the New York Times, Huff Post, TODAY Parents, Medium (where she is a Top Parenting Writer), Mommy Nearest and Scary Mommy. She also co-authored a book entitled Your Perfect Fit, published by McGraw-Hill. She already has her twins’ b’nei mitzvah date reserved in 2020. Follow her on Instagram @zibbyowens.
Recently, I had a life-changing experience that completely transformed how I feel about my body, my health, my sleep, and my identity. And it all started with a gob of spit.
I don’t know why I…bought a 23andMe DNA kit. Maybe I saw an ad. Perhaps a friend recommended it. I can’t remember, but I’ve always been curious about my ancestry, my background, and my health. (I mean, who isn’t?) So I went online and bought a kit. When it arrived, however, I let the small, square white box sit… >> Read More
I saw an old video of myself the other day. I was packing for an upcoming trip and my twins, who were about 2 years old then, were circling around me.
I don’t remember where we were going, but…what has stuck with me is how, on camera, I appear as frantic as a contestant on a reality TV cooking competition. My hair is flying and my brow is furrowed as I appear in and out of the frame, grabbing clothes, zipping and unzipping duffel bags as I shove things in. The twins, meanwhile,… >> Read More
When I found out I was pregnant with my fourth child, I cried. In fact, I cried for a couple weeks — when I wasn’t vomiting, that is. I had a 10-month-old at the time, and I was still getting…used to dealing with three kids. How I could possibly manage four? I wasn’t one of those carefree, laidback moms who dealt with things calmly and happily. I like order, clean rooms, being on time, being in control. And as desperate as I was to have my first three kids, I’d literally never considered having… >> Read More
Remember Filofaxes? Mine was my bible. I would enter all my plans in ink, sometimes weeks ahead of time. I would carry the green leather book with me everywhere I went.
“8 p.m. at Tiramisu with…Avery,” I’d input. The crazy part is that, on the appointed evening, Avery and I would both show up, on time, at the restaurant. It was that simple! There were no last-minute cancellations; there wasn’t an endless email or text chain debating the plan. We just showed up. And sometimes, when we were wrapping up… >> Read More
Last night at 2:12 a.m., I was laying on my back in my daughter’s twin bed, my knees up to the ceiling. Her arm was around my neck, her monkey lovey affectionately placed across my face. I was wide…awake — and so was she. We’d been in a version of that position for 45 minutes. She had clearly had a bad dream and had woken me up at 1:30 a.m., crying, telling me she was never going to sleep again. After we spent an hour and a half lying awake together, I was… >> Read More