My Dearest Abigail, You are my effervescent child. Bubbling over with joy, all of life is your celebration. I crave your energy and very literally can't keep up with you at times. October 8, 2012 we welcomed you into the world here at home, in our...
My son stands up high in our treehouse, waving at me from his perch among the oaks. "Momma, come play with me!" I don't hesitate. "I'm coming! What are we playing?" His response is certain, "The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe. You are Queen...
My phone sounded loudly with the flood warning. I had been reading to my son while curled up on the couch, drinking hot cocoa together under a blanket while the rain came down loudly outside. Our imaginations, which had been whisked away with Paddington to...
The sun burned warm upon my back as I heard my five year old son's voice calling out to me from across the pool. "Mom! Watch me! I'm going to do the high dive!" I waved at him to show him I was watching. Every...
Many of my conversations with close friends these days have centered around one primary topic: What is the coming school year going to look like and - of the different options our family could pursue - which approach is best for my child? I have listened and lamented with...
My Dear Joseph David, Today you are five! A whole hand! Your excitement about turning five is contagious. "What will it be like when I am five?" you asked your Dad as you snuggled next to him at bed time. "Well, it will be a lot...
The sunset was a picturesque mixture of orange, yellow, and red hues spanning over the horizon. My husband and I stood hand-in-hand gazing at the waves of the Atlantic ocean lapping against the shore in Corolla, N.C. It was a beautiful moment of peaceful togetherness...
Dear Dad, Fathers Day comes each year and with it memories of you. Today I reflect and give thanks once again for your life and for all that you have modeled for me and taught me over the years. This letter could never be exhaustive, but...
Words have always been my business, even from the very beginning. "Stop writing on the couch," my mother would say when I was very young. "Stop writing on my important papers," she would say when I was older. But I have had no words lately. I've...
Recently I wrote about how my nine year old daughter banged her forehead into the corner of a kitchen cabinet and had to get stitches. A few days before her stitches were to come out, I mentioned that after the injury was fully healed, we...