Tiny Human

I stand leaning over the side of your crib, forearms resting on the hard plastic frame. At least I think it’s plastic—or some other man-made material that they texturize and paint to make it look like wood. Because nothing is actually made from real wood anymore—at least not anything that new parents can afford. Real and…

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What My Daughter Taught Me About Grace

It was a typical Thursday morning, but the gloomy clouds and drizzling rain poetically accompanied a nagging sadness that I tried to ignore as I went about my routine. My mom left early that morning after staying with us for a month-long visit. I missed her. But I didn’t expect to. The feeling of emptiness…

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“That” Mom

So, my father posted this picture to Facebook while he, Stella and I, were out grabbing a bite to eat. I didn’t see it until later, after I had gotten home and put her to bed, but it completely stopped me in my tracks. I was actually embarrassed that his friends and my other family…

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