It may seem weird to plan for no plans, but I’ve found that my days feel more spacious when there's a balance between activity time and unstructured time.

Maybe the toughest job isn't parenting, maybe it is making choices that are best for everyone—including you.

 I realized how important it is to strive for compassion when interacting with others, to use gentleness and kindness as a guide. 

He's grown through the years and he's about to step out of high school, and maybe through college doors, or maybe into the world. I'm afraid things are going to warp speed ahead.

Everything else of sentimental importance or financial worth, my mom and my uncle believed, had already been given away by my grandmother, during her lifetime.

One year ago, I was swallowed by depression after our 4-year-old was diagnosed with Type 1 Diabetes. 

When you put 800 square feet into perspective, it becomes stifling small. 

Why do parents love their kids so much?

As parents, we give everything we have to make these little people happy. Maybe we're doing too much.

Are these daily battles a sign of my failure as a mother? Is there something wrong with him, or is there something wrong with the way I interact with him?