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…
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…
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…
I'm tempted to think it is because I am an unemotional, cold-hearted jerk. Maybe you are tempted to think it is because I never carried him in my belly and my attachment is not as strong.…
The van ride was warm and bumpy but at least we had no air conditioning whatsoever. The kids fiddled with our camera, taking videos of shanties and clothes drying on bushes until the tiny to…
"Hey little brother, sneak into big brother's room. He has candy. Get some for us." What would you have done if you were around the corner from that discussion? Intervened? What a grea…
"I don't know what's more exhausting about parenting: the getting up early, or acting like you know what you're doing." -Jim Gaffigan My Sweet and I have seven kids. And because th…