The green, three-wheeled taxis drove confidently into the sloping west side of the Kutupalong camp in Bangladesh. My daughter, my team and I drove passed large food distribution centers and a few el…
I don't write very much about raising teenagers, even though by this fall I will have five of them under my jurisdiction. Yeah, I know. Five is a lot. The reason for this writing hole? My lack of p…
I slipped into the quiet room filled with rocking chairs and slung my thirty gallon diaper bag off of my shoulder. The bag will shrink with each child until it resembles a lone diaper tossed under t…
Who has time to read? This busy parent does. Yes, it is wedged between after school activities and homework. It is interrupted countless times. It is done next to looming piles of I-should-be-clean…
“You have the million-dollar family,” he drawled, “one girl, one boy.” His well-intentioned assessment of our family of four felt like a small stone in my shoe. Each step brought a blistering chafe th…
This guest blogger is my childhood best friend, Andrea Esh. Chill to the core and one of my favorite people in the world. Here is her adoption story. Birth mother. To some that word strikes fear…
They walked into the restaurant alone, with no kids to corral or scrape off the floor. Jeff and Angie have agreed to meet me for lunch. I was expecting their youngest son to join us, as today was a…
The first time I looked at him, he was grayish and wasn't doing his one job very well. Our first baby needed extra oxygen and a short stay in the NICU before coming home to live with us, his under-pr…
It is the best of times to be female and it is a lousy time to be female. But mostly the best, with only a trace of lousy. As everyone attempts to define women, decide their rankings and judge t…
He turned his melty brown eyes to look at me as he confessed the saddest moment of his day. A kid in his class had done the unthinkable. They had called him a baby. I tried to pull off a …