When the cab pulled up outside my grandparents’ house on Mirror Lake Drive, everybody walked outside to greet my brother and sister-in-law. But I ran. As fast as my little legs could carry me. And in to the arms of my brother where I burst out in to these gigantic sobs. I couldn’t stop. ...
First, they start going down to the playground at the end of the street. By themselves.
And walking the mile home from school.
I knew this week was going to be a crazy one.
I'm working on a new project or two. The first quarter of school is coming to a close for my kids.
And I was driving down to Miami with my daughter to go to a concert. One that she was really excited for. The Cud Life...
I’ve been thinking a lot about that post I wrote last week.
Don’t Stare At My Daughter.
I got a lot of feedback on it. Mostly women with daughters who were feeling the same way that I did.
Disgusted. Concerned. And powerless.
I went to the mall yesterday with my two kids. My giant 16 year-old son and his sister, my petite 14 year-old daughter.
We had just walked through the doors, and were on our way to one of those smelly teen emporiums to return a shirt, when I noticed these two men staring at us. ...
I fell in love with you last Friday night in Miami.
But don't worry. It's not what you may think. I'm not a stalker. And I'm not (too) crazy.
I'm just a 47 year-old (happily married) mother of a teenage daughter.