I set up a blue, borrowed card table and tried to steady it on the uneven dirt of Highland Park in Brooklyn, NYC. The dollar store puzzles were opened and ready for my first batch of seven-year-olds…
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…
My kids struggle with changing their undies and their sheets, much less the globe.
Two of them are currently grounded from the X-box, one of them is in the throes of The Terrible Fours, and the res…
It was a life jolt, one of the few experiences I can point to as a Game Changer. It rattled me then and it rattles me still, affecting all of the months and years in between.
Out of the country for…
Little E sings and whistles. She loses teeth and gets whiney when she's tired. She is sweet and spicy rolled into one.
She knows HIV has been in her blood since her days of living in Uganda, Africa…
When our first little person was five months old, we packed up our earthly belongings and jumped ship for the Big Red country across the water.
So began our seventeen years of international travel wi…
The ribbon of red dirt was littered with plastic bags and the gullies convinced us this should not be a road.
The houses were shacks and the creeks were sewers.
The children were as pl…
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