Could he have another child for me?

I’d never seen you cry before, but you cried the day I told you I had breast cancer.

But those dark eyes had gazed with so much pain and sadness into my distracted green ones, and I saw her. And she saw that I saw.

I have a great network, parents, husband, friends. But really what I want to do today is tell you about my boys.

A creative fervor is upon me. I feel it in everything I do, need it with an intensity, a voraciousness. Without it, nothing feels quite right.

“It’s going to get better,” I reassure her. “It just takes time.”

I can still remember my seventeen-year-old self swearing that I’d never be like my mother or parent like her.

My children like my husband more than me.

Personal space is not an idea that many children concern themselves with, especially when it comes to invading the personal space of their parents.

When my husband suggested that we both check out of our family life for a weekend away after a work conference he would be attending in San Francisco, I was thrilled.