A Thousand Little Conversations

“Mommy was in jail,” Etta casually announced, as she swung her feet on the exam table in the doctor’s office during her annual checkup. At eight years old, Etta is a tall girl, in the 95th percentile for height. And, apparently, somewhere in the bottom 5% for tact.

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Lockdown

I experienced my first lockdown at the kids’ school this afternoon. The end of the day bell had just rung. Kids were spilling out of the classroom doors. Etta was the first out of her classroom; she saw me waiting for her on the grass outside and came running pell-mell to give me a hug, a big grin on her face. I was just about to ask how her day was when the announcement came loudly over the intercom, calm but insistent …

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Talking About Barbara

“I’m sad today,” I said to my kids.

I didn’t want it to be a big deal. I wanted it to be like one of Kate’s thousand little conversations, casually mentioned and repeated over time so that the lesson gradually and naturally sinks in.

But a thousand little conversations have to start somewhere.

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