May I stay steady. May I not give in to despair. May I channel my anger and grief into effective,Read more
“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.Read more
“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.Read more