My heart races as I eye the thick white envelope in our post office box. I hold my breath as I reach in and slowly pull it out. This is it. It’s real. I’m going off to college. Back when I was a kid, college letters came in two formats – thin, narrow envelopes with […]
It all started with an invitation to interview. One for him. One for me. Life is like that sometimes….you spend ages waiting for a great job opportunity to come along and then whammo! You both get interviews at the same time. Except his interview was in the Netherlands. And my interview was in San […]
Can I be honest here for a moment? Teaching my kids to tell the truth is a lot harder that I thought it would be. Why? Because I lie to my kids all the time. I bet you do to. For a long time I got away with it, back when they were clueless little monkeys […]
I am having one of those days that is going to end with me either punching someone in the face or flushing my own head down the toilet. I am a mega, mega beeyotch. Some people call these kind of days the exception. I call them Tuesday. My husband made the mistake of asking me why […]
“Don’t stare,” says my mom as she cuffs the back of my head and nudges me along through the store. I’m 6 years old. Old enough to notice that people are different, but not yet old or experienced enough to know that I’m not supposed to acknowledge that. “Don’t stare. Don’t point. Don’t call attention […]
(This is a Nomad Mom short fiction story) “Hi honey, I’m home!” Bill strides through the front door and immediately trips over the tricycle that is sitting behind it. “Dammit, Suzy, what has daddy told you about leaving your toys around the house,” he asks as he massages a knot on his leg. “Sorry daddy, […]
(This lovely guest post comes from Kristen over at Kristen in Clogland.) My parents had four children by the time they had reached 25 and I was the oldest. I look back at how they raised us girls and I can only admire them. They raised us to be honest, well-mannered girls with good morals and we […]
I want to be with you, with our graying hair and wrinkled foreheads, with our knees that scream sometimes, but still carry us through runs around the block.