Does She Know?

Will this be the last year she believes? I think this over and over, as I did last year, crossing my fingers that we still have one more year. My oldest daughter at age nine is mature in some ways, innocent in others. She is empathetic, responsible, and intuitive and...

Brain, Child: They Are Not Half Sisters

Ever since I started writing, Brain, Child Magazine has been hands-down my favorite publication. I have dreamed of writing for them for several years, and I am thrilled to be making my debut there today with a post for the Brain, Mother blog’s sibling series. It...

When Parenthood is Disappointing

Well, we’ve survived Christmas! Now just NINE more long days of the holiday break to go… Stay strong, parent warriors! The holidays are fraught with opportunities for disappointing moments, meals, and potentially humiliating gift exchanges. Childhood...

That Was Eight

    When I was eight years old, I started cracking my knuckles. I can’t remember who taught me, or why I thought it was a good idea, but once I started, I couldn’t stop. When I was eight years old, I got the world’s worst. Freaking. Perm. Ever. It was hideous. I...
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