
My New Black Friday Tradition
I refuse to do the traditional Black Friday shopping this year. I’ve had it with the lines, the shoving, and especially the parking lot rage.

I refuse to do the traditional Black Friday shopping this year. I’ve had it with the lines, the shoving, and especially the parking lot rage.

Moving from one country to another can be a hard thing for kids to understand. We’ve got seven books that celebrate everything that immigration entails.

The reason my aging parents’ things have made their way to my home—and the homes of my siblings—is they’re moved to a senior living apartment.

I see my little ones getting bigger day after day…and even though I suffered through postpartum depression with them…I’ve been bitten by the baby bug.

Left to my own devices, I wonder if we are being supportive of other mothers in this world. I wonder if we need to put down those devices and wake up.

There are so many reasons I should be celebrating. Making that last preschool payment should make me want to jump for joy…but I’m not.

I’d been preparing for YEARS when my daughter had her first period. You would have thought I would have been ready for the main event.

In Virginia, a new law allows police to arrest children over the age of 12 for going out on Halloween to trick-or-treat. What?

If I go back 10 years, I don’t think my husband was the man for me to marry. If I could talk to my 26-year-old self, I would tell her so many things…

Your wound is the entry point of the loss. It is agonizingly long in the beginning and then, before you know it, twenty-seven years have passed.

I refuse to do the traditional Black Friday shopping this year. I’ve had it with the lines, the shoving, and especially the parking lot rage.

Moving from one country to another can be a hard thing for kids to understand. We’ve got seven books that celebrate everything that immigration entails.

The reason my aging parents’ things have made their way to my home—and the homes of my siblings—is they’re moved to a senior living apartment.

I see my little ones getting bigger day after day…and even though I suffered through postpartum depression with them…I’ve been bitten by the baby bug.

Left to my own devices, I wonder if we are being supportive of other mothers in this world. I wonder if we need to put down those devices and wake up.

There are so many reasons I should be celebrating. Making that last preschool payment should make me want to jump for joy…but I’m not.

I’d been preparing for YEARS when my daughter had her first period. You would have thought I would have been ready for the main event.

In Virginia, a new law allows police to arrest children over the age of 12 for going out on Halloween to trick-or-treat. What?

If I go back 10 years, I don’t think my husband was the man for me to marry. If I could talk to my 26-year-old self, I would tell her so many things…

Your wound is the entry point of the loss. It is agonizingly long in the beginning and then, before you know it, twenty-seven years have passed.