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When Your Kids Know What You Do for Work {or, When You live with Two Editors...
They tossed their backpacks and lunch bags on the floor mats before tumbling into the mini-van in a flurry of sneakers, skinned knees and gangly limbs. “So did you finish it yet?” my son Noah asked,...
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On Loss: Thanksgiving without a Loved One
I leaned against the doorframe and surveyed the dim kitchen. Spotless countertops. Pans tucked into cupboards. Unused wooden spoons, spatulas and ladles poised in the pitcher by the stove. A stack of...
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When Failure Leads to a Better Fit
“I really don’t want to do this,” I whispered to my husband, Brad, as he turned the minivan into the packed parking lot at the Center for People in Need. I was leery of another family service...
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When Paying Goes Beyond the Issue of Money
“Whoa!” my nine-year-old son Rowan gasped, leaning forward to get a closer look at the meter. “We’ve already spent five dollars, and we haven’t even started driving yet!” I leaned across my two kids...
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Like a Jar of Expensive Perfume
Recently my nine-year-old son Rowan, a beginner violist, attempted to tune his instrument before performing a Christmas “concert” for his grandparents. After an hour of fruitless fiddling and many...
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No Doesn’t Necessarily Mean a Closed Door
Friends, before I get to today’s blog post…I just want to say a HUGE thank you to all of you who rallied behind me after Tuesday’s post. In two days, 53 new subscribers came on board – and that more...
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