But I just didn’t want to be a hockey mom. Days spent in cold, slightly smelly rinks isn’t my idea of a great weekend.
I stood staring at him. What would I change? Would I go back in time and finish that degree? Would I get rid of the extra skin and the stretch marks on my stomach, the ones I often hide?
So much of parenting is spent intently watching our children as they scream “Watch this, Mom!” before they do whatever thing it is they needed us to watch.
Vacations are funny. You spend days or even weeks counting down and anxiously looking forward to your getaway, but coming home and reuniting with routine is equally appealing by the time it’s all said and done. Sitting on the tarmac at Tampa, I was struck by the longing I felt for home and all the… Continue reading home again, home again
My heart breaks as I’m biting my tongue to try to not to rush to F’s defence; letting him cry it out when he’s done wrong and had to be disciplined; watching him try to fix things for himself.
Yesterday was hard. I felt wiped before 10 am as I tried to breathe through some tough family news and juggle work demands. When my day finally wrapped up – almost nine hours after I’d arrived in the office, I sat alone in my car decompressing. RomCom was actively preparing dinner as I stood, feeling… Continue reading the helping hand
I felt certain I’d have done anything to make time move faster.
There’s nothing I wouldn’t give to slow time down, now.