By Janelle Hanchett. It’s a strange moment when you realize the system is not for your child.
When you’re living a distracted life, every minute must be accounted for. You feel like you must be checking something off the list, staring at a screen, or rushing off to the next destination.
My grandma was a mere 59-years-old when my grandpa unexpectedly died of a brain aneurysm. He had a clean bill of health on a Monday; dead on a Tuesday. She wrote her “Rules for Happiness” in 1978. To herself. She never shared them.
Talking about sex with your kids is difficult.
I know that she’s growing up, and I have to accept that growing up means more than just aging and celebrating birthdays.
I am alone in a hospital room nine months later. Dana and our unborn child were just carted away by a swarm of doctors.